#kinda inspired by the music kids in my school

[thatthirstyweirdo]

Maybe one day I’ll go absolutely ballistic and actually make an animatic or animation with one of my characters…

#I have my baby Kolly on my mind rn #ohhh Kolly… my beloved #if you guys wouldn’t mind I would love to brainrot about her and my world’s lore from time to time #there’s so much… lord have mercy #and it’s the way the story is still incomplete after YEARSSS #well to be fair I did start it when I was a damn kid #I went through so many ideas and silly thoughts… so many scenarios I would think of while listening to music #I remember during school that’s all I would think about #how the story could progress and how all of it will connect by the end #it’s the way I have the foundation practically set and the middle of the story is empty 😔 #man… #I should probably find another media that could serve as inspiration #perhaps perhaps #I think it’s so funny how my world is basically an amalgamation of all the things I like #heh #kinda shows through how many phases I went through #hehe #thirsty thoughts

[loststolenorstrayed]

You all gotta watch Flip Flappers it’s such a fucking trip

#my post's #my post’s #that shit was my first real anime and it gave me such wild unliveuptoable expectations #magical girls going to beautifully designed weird as hell alternate universes every episode #bizarre things that I’m not sure if they are fanservice or are making fun of fanservice or both but I wouldn’t take them out #even though I kinda hate them it would ruin the absolutely insane tone #a fucking wish granting cult that genetically engineered more than half of the cast and is the antagonist #a trapped young girl with magic powers growing up to continue the cycle of abuse and control with her magic powers #lesbianism. so much lesbianism. #the most autistic pair of main characters. #mommy issues (previously elaborated on) #musings on whether your problems make you who you are #RENOWNED for having the best OP & ED ever #several genders of mad scientist #sidekick creatures with unclear levels of sapience and bizarre plot relevance #telepathic twins #lore shit dropped in your lap that you just gotta keep up with #and THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND MOST ANIME ART STYLE I HAVE EVER SEEN OR WILL EVER SEE #look maybe I’m biased because it was my first after the ghost stories dub (no kidding) but flip flappers is my favourite anime of all time #it and the shelter music video inspired a trope in my own writing that persisted all the way from middle school to 2020 #(the isolated girl trapped amid beauty. specifically in her room) #a bunch of my ocs were just Mimi #god. flip flappers is so good and so crazy. #flip flappers #anime #anime recs #GOD AND I FORGOT THE EMPHASIS PLACED ON FRIENDSHIP. IN THIS KINDA FUCKED WAY THAT SPEAKS TO ME SO MUCH #This anime. man. it’s just me this is my brain with 75% more shiny colour and frills

[xo-cori]

it’s all a game to me anyway

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: pining after athletes is never a good idea. that is, unless you’re good at getting your way.

warnings: smut (MDNI), hockey!abby, reader is lowkey a womanizer, choking, the knee thing™, thigh riding, power dynamic switcharoo, no aftercare but in a hot way

a/n: inspired by “music to watch boys to” by mother lana 🙏 if you’re a buff girl named abby anderson who plays hockey pls hit my line immediately. also read pt 2 here!!

“How’d you get in here?”

In any other scenario, her tone would’ve offended you. At least, you would’ve pretended it did. But this is a very special case; you’ve got Abby exactly where you want her, only because you know she feels the same.

It all started a few months ago during your first week of college. You’d developed a reputation around the school pretty quickly– you tend to pick girls up for a night just to leave them in the dust. It’s fulfilling, until it isn’t. Until you move onto the next, getting better and better at pretending you’d fallen head over heels just to take someone to bed. Now, just starting your second semester, you’d climbed up the social hierarchy pretty quickly, and you’ve been eyeing somebody in specific. After playing your tricks with half of her teammates, of course.

You stand in the empty locker room with her as she packs her bag. You can tell she’s fresh out of the shower and had just finished getting changed. You wonder if you could’ve sped this up by walking in a bit earlier.

“I snuck in,” you shrug. “Just noticed you never came out with your team– I wanted to say how sorry I am that you guys lost. You’re the captain, right? You could spread the message.”

Her eyes meet yours and she’s obviously unimpressed. “I could, but I won’t.” She quips.

You tilt your head. “How come?”

“Well, you’re… acquainted with most of them. Tell them yourself.” She says, setting her bag down on one of the benches so that she can face you. Her dirty blonde hair is still damp and, now that you think about it, this is the first time you’ve seen it out of that signature braid she always wears– and you’ve seen a lot of her.

It’s become a habit to show up to every game, every practice, intently watching her command her team and skate around on that ice like her life depends on it. You don’t know how hockey works. You honestly couldn’t care less, but you have more than enough reason to watch it, and you have your music to keep you company.

“Someone’s jealous.” You observe, taking a long step towards her.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t make any attempt to create some distance. She just raises her eyebrows at you. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You think I’m jealous?”

“Sounds like it.” You wrestle with a smile, not wanting to blow your one chance at this by pissing her off too much.

“Oh, really? And what’s there to be jealous of?” Abby questions, even if she has a pretty good idea what the answer will be.

“The winning team,” you take another step, “and… y’know, the fact that half of your team has had a turn with me. Not you, though. Not yet.”

The way her jaw tenses up makes your chest swell with pride. “Not yet?” She repeats. “You think I want a turn?”

“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. You like it when I watch you all practice, because you know I’m just watching you.” You tell her.

Abby knows there’s no way to argue with that, no matter how much she’d like to. She looks for you in the bleachers and, when she finds you, subconsciously makes a point of holding that eye contact. You always have both of your headphones in. You’re always looking her up and down, licking your lips like she’s nothing but a freshly prepared meal to you. Honestly, it makes her confidence skyrocket. She’s secure in her capabilities, but a little boost never hurt.

“Athletes like being watched. That’s kinda the whole point,” she replies, “doesn’t make you special.”

“But I am special.” Another step forward. At this point, you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. “I’ve gotta be. You know what I want, but you’ve never told your coach to make me fuck off.”

That’s true, too, Abby thinks. She’d never admit it, though. “Maybe I should.” She says.

“You won’t.” You grin. “Not until you get your turn, at least.”

She’s the one to take the next step forward. You can feel her breath fan across your face. She doesn’t trust her voice to speak; her hard exterior slowly crumbling under the heat of your gaze.

So, she grabs you by the throat and leans down to catch your lips between hers.

You gasp, shocked that she’d be the one to take the initiative. You weren’t even sure if she liked girls, and here she was, already shoving her tongue past your lips, which you happily accepted. Her chest presses to yours as she backs you up against one of the lockers. You opt to ignore how hard your head hit the metal, given how preoccupied you are by the way she grabs both of your wrists in her other hand and holds them above your head.

Then, she pulls back to look at you. You aren’t the one in control and you know it. Oddly enough, you kind of like it.

“Is this what you wanted?” Abby rasps, shoving her knee between your thighs and pressing up right where you needed her, causing you to let out a pleased sigh.

“Yeah,” you nod, “just didn’t think you’d be so easy.”

She finds it ironic that you of all people would call her easy, but she decides not to linger on it. Instead, she slightly tightens her grip around your throat, reveling in the way she only needs one hand to make your breath stutter. The lack of air gives you a head-rush and you find yourself grinding down onto her thigh. Normally, you wouldn’t let yourself be reduced to a submissive mess, but you’d been pining after her for months. You’d do whatever it takes to get her head between your legs.

Abby kisses you once more, totally ignoring the way your hands struggle against her grip only because you kiss her back with a fervor she’s never felt.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, “fucking yourself on my leg like a dog.”

You whine at the lack of her lips on yours. “I want you so bad, Abby– been waiting for this forever.” You admit, which is just another ego boost for her.

She lets go of your wrists and pulls your arms to wrap around her shoulders. “Go ahead, then. Make yourself cum like this.”

You’re taken aback by the demand. Is that even possible? Hell, just to impress her, you’ll make it possible.

You slowly get yourself into a rhythm, rolling your hips into hers, thighs trembling as you hold yourself up simply by her shoulders. Her muscles flex beneath your hands and it only makes you moan louder. Your head falls back against the locker once more, giving Abby an opening to dive into your neck. She kisses, licks, bites any skin available to her, leaving little marks and bruises in her path. Something for her to gawk at later when you show up to practice (because she knows you will). Her hands hold you by your waist, fingertips digging into your flesh so hard that it hurts.

It only takes another two minutes until you feel your climax boiling somewhere deep inside of you. Your legs are just barely working anymore and your hips move with an untamed rhythm, shamelessly seeking any pleasure you can get. “I’m close,” you whimper, “please, please let me–”

Before you can finish your plea, she’s grabbing onto your hips and holding you still. You groan in frustration, balling your hands into fists and whacking them against her chest. “You fucking bitch!” You whine, only made angrier by the shit-eating grin on her face (plus the way she isn’t phased at all by your punches).

“Sorry,” Abby says, moving in so close to your face that your noses are nearly touching, “just needed to vent all this frustration. You know, since I lost the big game and all.”

She presses another kiss to your lips, and you reach up to grab hold of her hair, trying to deepen it as much as possible. She doesn’t struggle at all to pull away, though. You’ve never loved and hated someone’s muscles so much.

“Let me make it better.” You breathe, trying to move one of your hands down between her legs but she quickly grabs it to restrain you. “Please, I’ll– I promise, I’ll make you forget about that stupid game.”

“That’s not a very tempting offer,” Abby sighs dramatically just to get a rise out of you, “don’t wanna be sore for practice tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose in thought. Is that an invitation? It has to be. She knows you’ll be there regardless. You stare deep into her eyes with a fury, but this only seems to amuse her.

She lets go of your hips and steps away from you. “See you then.”

You remain pressed up against the locker, lips kiss-bitten and legs shaky. You don’t even want to think about what your neck looks like. Abby grabs her bag from the bench and doesn’t even spare you another glance before walking out of the same door you came in through.

Fuck this, you think. Two can play at that game.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson smut

[pepperonidk]

i'd rather be blind || c.sc

pairing: sungcheol x reader, mingyu x reader warnings: angst, not accurate at all to korean high school culture but uh... it's fanfic word count: 1425 summary: Seungcheol would rather go blind than see you with someone else. inspired by the song I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James.

a/n: this is crossposted on my marvel account (@pepperonijem) bc i'm reading some of my old marvel fics and damn... they were kinda insane

main masterlist || taglist

“Whiskey neat. And make it a double,” Seungcheol sighed as he leaned his elbows on the wooden counter of the open bar.

The sound of Etta James’s voice flooded the background, but the only sounds he could bring himself to focus on was the blood pounding in his ears, and his heart keeping in time with it. The drink slid its way down towards him, and he snapped out of his trance only long enough to catch the drink before it spilled on the suit he rented for the evening. Seungcheol let out another deep sigh before downing the drink in one sip; the familiar burn of the alcohol settled over him and he welcomed the warmth that rose in his throat. 

He asked for another glass, ignoring the bartender’s concerned glance. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling, and let the music and chatter behind him drown the memories he no longer wanted to remember.

The grass was dewy. The sky was blue. The air was crisp. And your laugh was music. 

It was easy to spend hours outside with you. Whether you were playing tag or looking for honeysuckle flowers to snack on, it never really mattered. Not as long as you were there. Today, Seungcheol had implored you to lay on the grass beside him to find shapes among the rolling clouds.

You had indulged him for a while, and he was thankful. While you were rambling on about how clouds were actually extremely heavy, he turned to look at you. You were more radiant than the sun and he couldn’t help but stare. Somewhere among dancing elephants, ballerinas, and coffee pots, Seungcheol could also see an infinite number of days spent in your light. You turned to look at him with a gentle smile and Seungcheol felt himself blush. You chuckled softly before sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest. 

“Cheollie,” you began. “My mom said we’ve gotta stop getting stains on our clothes. She said she won’t let us be friends anymore if she has to replace another pair of grass-stained jeans.” You stood up and offered your hand out to help him up. Although he definitely didn’t need you to help him up, he took the opportunity to imagine what it would be like to have your fingers entwined in his. So he slipped his hand in yours and the two of you stood from where you were seated on the grassy hill that sat behind both of your houses. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully. He knew as well as you did that your mother’s threats were empty. She adored him, and made it evident every time he came over. As soon as you would walk through the door with him in tow, the sweet and almost sickly scent of apple pie wafted through the house to greet the two of you, which he would grin at in response. You swore Seungcheol was your mom’s favorite child, even though he was only your neighbor. But his charm never failed to get him on everyone’s good side. “I gotta go home anyway, I invited the new kid over to my house. He seemed like he needed a friend,” Seungcheol added.

Your face lit up in response. “Mingyu, right?” you questioned as the two of you walked down the hill back to Seungcheol’s house. Mingyu had transferred to your school recently and was in your advanced calculus class and although he sat behind you, you had yet to strike up a conversation with him. He mostly kept to himself, and spent most of the class with his face buried in his work, drawing small doodles in the margins to while away the minutes, and you had no desire to interrupt. “He sits behind me in calculus, which you would know if you would actually show up to class, dork.” you playfully shoved Seungcheol as the two of you reached his front porch.

Seungcheol laughed in response as he twisted the key to unlock the door. “Okay, to be fair, I don’t think I need to know how to factor derivatives to get through life,” he argued. “But anyway, do you wanna stay for a bit? Mingyu should be here soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Seungcheol was quick to open the door to reveal a nervous looking Mingyu. “Hey dude, come on in,” Seungcheol greeted, offering a comforting smile to Mingyu and gesturing into the house. “My friend is here, I hope you don’t mind.” You waved politely at the sound of your name and glanced at Mingyu long enough to notice him smiling sweetly at you, causing a blush to seep into your cheeks. This was the first time you really got to notice the twinkle in Mingyu’s  eyes, without the fluorescent lights of the classroom washing them out.

“Yeah, we have literature together, right?” Mingyu asked, walking over to shake your hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Your hair smells nice,” he blurted out before adding quickly, “at least I’ve noticed from sitting behind you, sorry that’s weird isn’t it?” His eyebrows scrunched together as he smiled apologetically, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckled shyly. “Thanks.” You and Mingyu stood in front of each other for a few seconds, lost in each other’s presence, until your bubble was popped by a cough from Seungcheol. You jumped at the sound, and Mingyu smiled at you in amusement, but Seungcheol had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Uh, I’ll go get us some snacks,” Seuncheol cleared his throat, offering a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. He stopped and stared at the fridge, looking at all of the photos of the two of you that were hung up by the souvenir magnets you’d gotten him on your trip to Japan. Polaroids of the two of you making silly faces on Seungcheol’s 13th birthday, photobooth strips of him kissing your cheek from the mall two weeks ago, and pictures of you both at the homecoming dance last year. All of those were times he wished he told you how he felt, but let the fear of rejection push him down, and he kept them up as a reminder of his feelings. Seungcheol stared at the pictures long enough to see himself be replaced by the new kid making you laugh right then.

Seungcheol’s trip down memory lane was interrupted by the painful screech of microphone feedback and he turned his head to the stage in time to see the happy couple waving right at him. He waved back and the couple shared a loving look and a quick kiss before you cleared your throat. “We just wanted to say some quick “thank you”s and then we’ll get back to the dancing, sound good?” The crowd cheered in response and she chuckled before continuing. “Well first, thank you mom, for being there for me for all of this. It was definitely stressful, but you are my rock, and you keep me sane. Thank you for showing me what love is and how to share it with others, because without it, I wouldn’t be up here now. And last, but certainly not least, thank you for the apple pie. It was delicious.” 

The crowd laughed in agreement, and Seungcheol took another sip of his whiskey. He looked over to the dessert table to see a few small tins of apple pie still left uneaten and was immediately hit with the sharp pang of wistful nostalgia, not in the least bit dulled by the alcohol. The couple continued to list off names, but he tuned their voices out. Until he heard his name.

“And finally, thank you, Seungcheol. You are really the root of all of this, and I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for being my best friend, and introducing me to my soulmate. I wouldn’t have ever gathered the courage to speak to the love of my life without you, and for that you deserve the biggest thanks.” Seungcheol plastered a sympathetic smile on his face as he met Mingyu’s eyes. “I love you, man.”

Seungcheol raised his glass in a toast while his dark eyes flickered between the two of you. He saw you look up at your now-husband with adoration in your eyes. He saw the sincerity and gratitude in Mingyu’s. He saw the solitude in your interlocked fingers. Then he decided he’d rather go blind.

taglist: @yksthings @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

#caratwritersclub #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeenweeklyarticle #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x y/n #svt x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scoups #seventeen #svt scoups #scoups smut #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol smut #svt drabbles #svt fic #svt au #svt seungcheol #kpop x reader

[babydollmarauders]

WYD NOW? — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!singer!reader

summary: in which y/n writes a song about her ex-boyfriend, 3 years after their breakup, and it gets back to him, leading to their reconnection

notes: inspired by the song WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. ending kinda sucks, but ehh i did my best. pretty sure i lost motivation for this halfway through it, but i tried to power through.

not my gif

*** JUNE 17TH, 2018 ***

“i bet, at this time in a few years, we’ll be painting the walls of our shared apartment.” my boyfriend’s whisper rings through my ears as i turn my head to look at him.

heat rises to my cheeks, Jack’s blue eyes gazing into mine.

“yeah?” i laugh, running a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower he took before coming over.

“mhm.” he hums in confirmation, his hand snaking up under the stolen shirt that adorns my body, gripping my waist and pulling me closer. “i’ll be playing hockey, and you’ll be a big pop star, my little songbird.”

i bury my face into his neck in attempt to hide the redness on the apples of my cheeks from the nickname.

“you gonna write songs about me?” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the side of my head.

“i already do.” i murmur, my lips brushing against his collarbone, causing him to shiver.

*** JULY 30TH, 2019 ***

“i don’t think i understand.” it feels like my head is underwater, my lungs burning for oxygen, but unable to receive it.

“we can still be friends, y/n. you can call me whenever.” Jack sits on my bed, gripping my hands in his hold. “the future is just, so far away and we don’t know what’ll happen.

“i don’t want my dreams to hold you back from achieving yours, y/n. you may not see it right now, but this just seems like the best option for now. and maybe, down the line, once we’re both at a stable place in our careers, if we’re both single, we can revisit us.”

my head is bobbing ‘yes’ but my heart is screaming ‘no!’

it’s like my brain understands where he’s coming from, that he’s being logical and that he’s doing this for the greater good of both of us; no matter what we’ve always thought, we’re still just kids, we were dreaming. but my heart isn’t getting that message. all my heart knows is that it’s being crushed into a thousand pieces and it feels pretty unsalvageable right now.

“are you okay?”

it’s my instinct to tell him ‘yes’. my instinct to not let him know how much he’s really hurting me. how much i want to scream that we’ll be fine. that i would give up my dream to be by his side while he accomplishes his. but i know that would just hurt him; because that isn’t what he wants.

he may be hurting me, but he’s doing it for all the right reasons. he doesn’t want me to push my dreams aside for his, because he wants to see me living them. he wants the best for me.

“yeah, i’m okay. i understand.”

*** PRESENT: SOCIAL MEDIA ***

y/nonthegram

liked by tatemcrae and 246,517 others

y/nonthegram in your faded t-shirt

that i’ve kept this long

i still hear you laughing

Load more comments

user13 NEW LYRICS??

user92 that’s what i was thinking too! seems too poetic to just be a caption

trevorzegras hey that looks familiar

user57 OH MY GOD NEW MUSIC?

user04 AHHH ANNOUNCE A NEW ALBUM PLEASE

user6 I’LL EVEN JUST TAKE A NEW SINGLE! I JUST NEED NEW MUSIC

tatemcrae my best friend writes the best captions

y/nonthegram MY best friend writes the best songs

tatemcrae says you!

user83 new love song? break-up song? both?

colecaufield what’s this 👀

y/nonthegram

liked by trevorzegras and 283,752 others

y/nonthegram surprise! ‘WYD Now?’ out tonight at midnight.

wholly written in my bedroom at 2am, this song means the absolute most to me, and i hope some of you can find comfort in it like i have <3

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user04 OH MY GOD! THANK YOU FOR BLESSING OUR EARS TONIGHT!

colecaufield so proud of you!

y/nonthegram thank you, coley ♥️

user94 since when does she know nhl players?

user63 she went to high school with some of the 2019 draft class

user72 I CAN’T WAIT OMG

user18 SHAKING, CRYING, THROWING UP! I’M SO EXCITED

_alexturcotte our little melody makin’ munchkin, making moves!

y/nonthegram oh god please don’t bring back “melody makin’ munchkin”

_alexturcotte too late

tatemcrae GO BEST FRIEND THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND

y/nonthegram LEMME KISS YOUR FACE!! MWAH!!

user55 i’m so curious to hear these lyrics 😭 how am i gonna wait 8 more hours?!

jackhughes

liked by y/nonthegram and 352,850 others

jackhughes 3/3

Load more comments

user77 hey wait, didn’t @/y/nonthegram date Jack in high school? is the new song yesterday about him?

user55 yess! it’s gotta be!

trevorzegras dizzyyy

user91 you should go listen to y/n’s new song 👀

user02 have you heard ‘WYD Now?’ ???

user36 omg he remembered to post 3/3

colecaufield same time next summer? 🫡

subbanator 🚀

y/nonthegram

liked by jackhughes and 227,951 others

y/nonthegram i’m so grateful for all the love on ‘WYD Now?’ these past couple days! thank you all! <3

here’s some photos @/tatemcrae took at our song celly night last night to celebrate the release of WYD Now? and greedy!

in celebration, i’ll be answering some questions in the comments!

Load more comments

user74 is the song fictional? or was it inspired by someone?

y/nonthegram not fictional <3

user99 is this a single off the upcoming album? or just a normal song?

y/nonthegram the album is still being written, so i can’t confirm or deny if this is a single because i’m not sure yet if it’ll be on the track list! <3

colecaufield omg y/n please come to Montreal! i love you so much! you’re my idol!

y/nonthegram hey remember that time i bumped you with my car? i think we should do that again! i’ll stomp on the gas this time!

colecaufield omg you noticed me!!

user42 at 18, where did you imagine yourself being at this age?

y/nonthegram New Jersey <3

trevorzegras where did he set the bar?

y/nonthegram above the moon

user28 if the song isn’t fictional, then who’s it about?

user96 it’s 100% about jack hughes. if you scroll way down on her page, there’s pics of her and jack in high school, but they stop when they were 18. then he moved to new jersey and now he’s playing hockey, like the song states “you finally got the job you like”. that we’re all aware of, she didn’t have any other boyfriends in high school. she and jack seemingly dated from ages 16-18 until he left for the NHL

liked by y/nonthegram

_quinnhughes 💙

user10 this song was amazing! i really related and it made me feel so seen!

user88 big question is: has jack heard the song yet?

jackhughes call me?

user98 @/user88 if he hadn’t, i’m guessing he has now

*** PRESENT: REAL LIFE ***

my heart races as the notification comes through.

i wasn’t sure if he listened to my music, or if the song would get back to him. i just needed to get my feelings down on paper, and then it turned into a song, and then i liked it too much to not release it.

the night i wrote it, i had played a small show in New York, and i could’ve sworn i saw him in the back of the venue. of course, i knew it wasn’t, but it had rattled me; bringing all my feelings for him back to the forefront of my brain.

“call him.” my head snaps up to face my best friend, her eyes soft as she looks at me from the doorway.

“i-” Tate cuts me off with a shake of her head.

“don’t make excuses, y/n. call him.” she repeats, “you deserve to be happy, and from what you’ve told me, he makes you happy.”

she doesn’t stick around; instead bidding me goodbye and heading back to my guest room to give me some privacy.

i pace my bedroom, iphone clutched in my hand. his contact is pulled up, but i can’t seem to build up the nerve to call him. though, it seems i don’t have to, because my phone begins to ring instead, Jack’s photo displaying on the screen.

“hi.” i breathe out, pressing the phone to my ear.

“hi.” he repeats. “i heard your new song. i’m so proud of you, my little songbird.”

my face heats up, blood rushing to my cheeks. i haven’t heard that nickname in almost four years.

“thank you.” my words come out a whisper, still in disbelief that i’m talking to him again.

“did you mean it?” the question causes a panic to erupt in me, swarms of butterflies erupting in my nervous system.

“did i mean what, Jacky?” i need him to say it.

“what you wrote,” he clears his throat, “in the song. did you mean it all? do you still think of me? do you really wanna try again?”

laying sprawled out on my bed, i stare up at the ceiling as i speak.

“i wouldn’t have written it if it wasn’t true.”

“oh- okay. so, uh,” he stutters, but i can hear the smile on his lips, causing the same reaction upon my own face, “where are you right now?”

“um, my apartment?” my brows thread together in confusion, but he just chuckles.

“i mean like, are you living in LA? are you home in Michigan? what state?”

“oh.” i bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment. “i live in New York, Jack.”

“really?” his voice is emotionally distant and seemingly hurt. “so close?”

“yeah.” i nod, although he can’t see me. “i’ve gone to a few of your games.”

“you did?”

“mhm.” i hum in confirmation. “i just- i didn’t wanna be the one to reach out and then have you think oddly of me or have you already be in a relationship or something. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i just didn’t wanna be seen as that clingy ex-girlfriend or anything.”

“that’s not what you are, y/n.” he sighs, “would you wanna meet up soon? catch up? i’d love to hear about your glamorous new pop star life.”

“i’d love to. although, i wouldn’t call myself a pop star, Jacky.”

“you are to me.” i blush at his words, glad he can’t see how much of a mess i am at the moment. “are you free on saturday? i have practice in the morning, but after that, maybe we could go to lunch?”

“yeah, i can do that.” i confirm.

“okay great, i’ll text you on friday to hash out details?”

“sounds great!” my cool hand rises to press against my heated face in attempt to cool myself down.

“great. i gotta go, Luke and i are going out with the guys. i’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“yeah. bye, Jack.” i wait for him to repeat a goodbye before hanging up, burying face in my pillow and letting out a muffled scream.

***

my knee bounces underneath the table of the New York City diner, my hands clasped together on the table.

Jack should be here any minute, and saying i’m nervous would be an understatement. my palms are clammy, my legs won’t stop shaking, and i’m eighty percent sure that i have no skin left on my bottom lip because i’ve chewed it all off.

the little bell above the door rings and my head snaps up to look, but it’s just a young couple with their toddler. i send a friendly smile to the tired looking mother before looking back down at my hands that won’t stop fidgeting.

i zone out, retreating back into my head and all the thoughts that have been plaguing me since we planned this meeting.

what if he doesn’t like me anymore?

what if he has a girlfriend and he’s just trying to be nice?

or worse, what if he’s just asked me here so he could tell me to leave him alone? to stop writing songs about him.

“hi.” i’m pulled out of my thoughts by Jack sliding into the booth across from me, a gentle smile on his face.

his hand snakes across the table to hold mine, and i can’t help but feel like a teenager again, back when we used to have dates like this all the time; where he would hold my hand over the table and we would laugh and joke around for hours.

“hey.” i smile back, giving his hand a small squeeze in return.

“how are you?” he questions. he brings his hand back in order to hold his menu, but his focus remains on me, not even glancing down at the menu yet.

“i’m good!” i nod. “how are you?”

“good, i’m glad. i’m good too.”

we’re interrupted by a waitress, taking a second to look over our menu’s before giving her our orders.

once she retreats, i squirm from the small talk, never having been any good at it. which Jack seems to remember.

“so, how’s the pop star life?” he smirks teasingly, and i giggle.

“not a pop star.” i remind him, shaking my head. “but it’s good. i like where i’m at right now in my career. i like having a strong fanbase but still being unknown enough that i’m not being hounded on or followed like, say, Taylor Swift.

“i’m able to just write my music and put it out, go on small tours, interact with my fans on a more personal level; it’s really nice. i don’t know if i would want it to be more than that.”

he nods in understanding, a wide grin on his face as he listens.

“i get it. and i’m really glad you’ve achieved what you wanted. i’ve always rooted for you.”

“what about you? mr. ninety-nine point season!” he blushes at my words, shaking his head and looking down at his hands, which rest on the tabletop. “how’s that?”

“it’s good! really good.” he looks back up at me, and i have to fight myself from getting lost in his eyes like i would when we were seventeen. “i love it. it’s hard, it’s a lot of work, but it’s amazing. and honestly, i’m pretty glad i’m not on a canadian team. i like that i can go out and still have a pretty normal life outside of hockey, ya know? not be stopped on the street a bunch.”

“yeah, i get it.” i tell him. “i’m so glad you’re happy though. you play great, as you always have.”

he releases a ‘thanks’ before a silence settles over us, neither of us sure what exactly to say next.

i begin to play with the paper wrapper from my straw, winding it around my finger before sliding it off and gently pulling it straight again.

“so, Cole sends me your songs.”

snap! the paper wrapper breaks in two as i look up at him.

“he does?”

“yeah. you know i don’t get on social media too much, so i don’t always know right away when you put one out, but Cole sends me all of them. just in case i miss one.” he explains.

my head bobs up and down as i try to display a level of cool, “oh.”

“that doesn’t bother you, does it?” he asks. “that i don’t always listen to them right away?”

“not at all! i didn’t really think you listened to them at all.” i confess, sinking lower into the booth. “not really your genre.”

he smiles gently, reaching forward to hold my hand tightly in his.

“y/n, you could write a children’s nursery rhyme, and i would still listen to it.”

my head tips back against the booth, joyous laughter spilling from my lips. my nose scrunches, resulting in a small snort, which cause him to laugh as well.

“you’re just saying that.” i choke out, and he shakes his head.

“no! i’m serious! i would!” Jack insists, right as the waitress arrives with our food. she sets our food in front of us, making sure we’re all set before she retreats.

a comfortable small talk takes over as we eat; discussing our friends and their accomplishments since graduation.

“you remember that time,” Jack starts through broken laughter, “that you hit Cole with your car because he said he didn’t think it would hurt?”

“yes! and i barely even tapped him, but the big baby whined that it hurt so bad, i may have crushed his NHL dreams!” my face hurts from smiling so big, but i can no longer fight it.

“and then he was fine and back to practice that afternoon! not even a bruise left on him!” he retorts.

“ever the dramatic, Cole is.” i sigh, sitting back in my seat from position slouched over the table.

“since we’re walking down memory lane, do you remember how i said that maybe down the line, we could revisit us?”

i’m sobered up now, my smile gone as i eye him. he’s playing with his bracelets, a sign of nerves from him, and i just now realize that he’s still wearing the string friendship bracelet i gave him at eighteen; just before his draft.

i swallow the lump that built in throat, nodding, “yeah.”

“you think maybe now would be a good time to do that?” he asks. “start slow; go on dates again, maybe you could come over sometime for movie night with Luke and i, come to a few more of my games, where i actually know you’re there this time. and then see where that could take us?”

butterflies swarm my stomach, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, and my teeth sink into my lower lip, biting back a smile.

“i’d love that, Jack.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

[ringsofsaturnnnn]

— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 | 𝐚. 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: it’s no secret that most people see armin as a sweet, innocent little thing. i mean, how couldn’t you? his sweeter than honey smile, bright blue eyes, and gentle voice pulls everyone in! however, what happens when you end up finding out that little mr. perfect isn’t as nice as everyone thinks he is?

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 :: fem bodied reader, porn with a plot (kinda), manipulative!armin, jealous!armin, pervy!armin, mean!armin, ooc!armin, swearing, dark content as armin is kinda manipulative, armin sorta shames you for what you wear at one point, nsfw themes - armin jacking off to you, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, slight choking, light dacryphilia (armin likes seeing you cry), fingering, virgin reader, overstim, pet names/endearing terms (honey, baby, sweet girl, etc.), slight dumbification. all characters are aged up & are in college. if i missed anything just let me know!

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: this is my first time ever writing something like this so if it sucks i’m so sorry 😭. i really hope it makes sense.. i feel like the plot just kinda fell apart but oh well. i’ve just been having extreme brainrot for armin. big thanks to my friend @oyusumi​ for beta reading like.. half of this and inspiring me to finally post.

© 2023 ringsofsaturn | please don't copy or repost my works! i have not given permission to anyone to repost my works. reblogs/comments/likes are okay!

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

your head moved back and forth to the music playing through your headphones as you looked through your notes in the notebook in front of you. you had been studying nonstop for the upcoming german test, however, it seemed like all your studying was futile. you still couldn’t understand how to pronounce, nor spell, certain words. it was just getting frustrating because it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, you still just couldn’t get it.

letting out a groan, you ripped your headphones out of your ears and started packing your notes up. you needed to get out of the library. this studying was starting to drive you nuts. as you were packing, you heard someone’s voice behind you. turning, you saw your friend eren. “oh, hey eren.” you smiled as you shoved the last notebook in your bag. 

“hey. you looked frustrated. do you need help with anything?” many people pegged eren as the stupid type who didn’t do his homework and was passing school by the skin of his teeth, which was ironic, because he was a great student. he practically had straight a’s with the occasional b+. “oh no, don’t worry about it. i was just getting frustrated while studying for the german test.” you shrugged as you swung your backpack over your shoulder and grabbed your phone.

“oh, here! let me help you,” eren sat down in the empty seat and looked at you. “well, come on.” giving him a hesitant glance, you sighed. “are you sure? i don’t want to be a bother..” he nodded and you couldn’t help but smile. “fine.” setting your bag down, you unzipped it and grabbed the notebook you were previously looking at.

unknowingly to the both of you, a certain blonde was watching you two out of the corner of his eye. he couldn’t stop the anger building inside of him. it should of been him helping you, not eren. armin was the brightest kid in school, no doubt. he was a straight a+ student who had a 4.0 gpa. sure, he spent most of his days studying, but it showed as almost every teacher favored him and wished every student was as bright as he was. 

the sound of your laughter pulled armin from his thoughts. he looked up and saw your head resting against eren’s shoulder as you laughed at something he said. gripping his pencil tightly, he looked at the blank white paper, lined with blue stripes, in front of him. he just couldn’t think. couldn’t focus. not when you entered his mind.

armin was obsessed with you.

plain and simple. there was no other way to explain it. to others, and even you, his gestures were sweet. he was a true gentleman. he held doors open for you, walked you to your next class at the expense of being late to his own, gave you his notes if you missed something, and would even offered you his jacket if certain classrooms were too cold for you.

day after day, you never left armin’s thoughts. you were always on his mind, in more ways than one. what seems like a harmless crush continued to grow and grow until it turned into a deep infatuation with you. many would call this unhealthy, but to armin, it was perfectly fine. in his eyes, how couldn’t he be obsessed with you? everything you did was just perfect.

“armin? hey, armin!” shaking his head, armin looked up and saw eren. “you okay? i’ve been calling your name for a few minutes now.” eren chuckled and sat down next to his friend. “oh? yeah, i’m fine. just spaced out.” armin responded, adding a fake laugh at the end to sound more believable. he continued to speak with eren, growing tired of the small talk. he made up an excuse so he could leave and eren nodded. “mhm, see you later.”

getting up, armin headed towards the door of the library. something on the table that you had been sitting at caught his eye. stopping and looking, he saw your phone. he glanced around and made sure no one was looking before pocketing it and heading out. 

once armin entered his room, he threw his bag to the side and immediately started examining your phone. hitting the power button, your lock screen lit up his face. it was a picture of you, armin, mikasa, and eren. he couldn’t stop the smile that toyed at the edge of his lips at the thought of you seeing his face every time you opened your phone.

he swiped up and the phone asked for a passcode. chuckling, he easily typed in the six-digit code to unlock your phone. he had seen you type the passcode in when you sat beside him at lunch one day. your face id hadn’t been working and you made a comment about nearly forgetting your passcode because you always used your face id.

the second he was in, he paused. this was wrong. he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. he needed to see what was on your phone. he needed to know that you were safe. clicking on your messages, he noticed that his conversation was pinned. his heart swelled at the thought. you had his conversation pinned. along with his, you had eren, mikasa, and the group chat all 4 of you shared pinned.

after he finished smiling about the fact that his conversation was pinned, he started reading your other messages. most of your conversations were, in his opinion, stupid. you mainly texted sasha about different recipes you had made or how she was doing on homework. your conversations with connie were basically him inappropriately flirting with you (which made armin quite upset) or telling stupid jokes back and forth. he occasionally asked you for answers to homework, which didn’t shock armin one bit. jean’s texts with you were dry and dull, nothing interesting there. 

the conversations that caught his eye were your texts with mikasa and eren. since they were your good friends, you, of course, had more interesting messages with them. eren’s texts with you were mostly about hanging out and how you two were feeling. armin couldn’t help but feel a spike of jealousy. you never texted him about your feelings, so why did you go to eren? had he not proven that he was trustworthy enough? what made armin see red was the pictures eren had been sending you. shirtless pictures, him at the gym, pictures where his pants were hanging dangerously low on his hips. he was disgusted as he scrolled through the texts. you had told him more than once that you weren’t interested, so why wasn’t eren getting the fucking hint?

having enough of eren, he went to your conversation with mikasa. he felt himself calm down as he read your texts with her. you mainly talked about your struggles with certain classes (which armin made note of so he could help you later) and your feelings. he didn’t mind you talking to mikasa about your feelings because he knew that mikasa was very important to you and would offer you good advice. 

just when he was about to be done snooping through your messages, he saw his name. scrolling up a little further, he couldn’t help but read what you said about him. his eyes quickly scanned the words, the smile on his face growing wider and wider with each passing second.

you had a crush on him?

he continued to stare at your messages with mikasa, not being able to pull his eyes away from that simple message. you, a beautiful, ethereal angel, had a crush on him? it was almost like a dream come true. armin even pinched himself a few times just to make sure he was seeing this correctly. 

shaking his head, he finally swiped up and exited your messages. he scrolled through the pages on your phone, admiring your phone theme. he remembered you ranting about how long it took you to make it look as nice as it did. he looked through all your apps, less than impressed with some of them. why the heck did you need so many apps?

just as he was about to finish his snooping and call it a day, his mind wandered to your photos. should he? scrolling over to the photo icon on your homescreen, his finger hovered over it. he knew this was wrong but.. fuck it. he already had your phone, so why not? clicking the icon, he was immediately met with all your photos. 

he gulped and regained his composure before starting to look through them. a lot of your photos were of your pets. of course they were though, you loved your pets. you had some pictures of different drinks or foods you got to have. different places you’ve visited. lots and lots of photos of you and your friends. swiping out of your camera roll, he looked at all your albums. you had.. a lot.

pets 

yummy things

fun places

friends

the album that made him smile was called “armin.” he had his own album in your phone? clicking on it, it asked for face id, much to armin’s surprise. you could lock photo albums? it obviously denied him every time he tried to use his face. he was starting to grow frustrated before it asked to enter the passcode. smiling, he typed in the code. bingo. 

the album opened up and revealed all the photos of you and armin and just armin, which gave him a satisfied smirk. eren didn’t have an album all to himself. he had finally managed to one-up eren. 

he scrolled through the hundreds of photos, smiling and laughing at a few. he could recall almost every moment that had been frozen in time in these pictures. his favorite photo was the one where you were kissing his cheek. you two happened to be underneath some mistletoe that sasha had hung in a doorway. being teased by all your friends, you kissed his cheek while historia unknowingly took a picture. 

his cheeks were flushed at the memory of your soft, warm lips against his skin. swiping out of that album, he saw one last one, hidden far behind the other albums. it was titled “n/a,” which he found odd. n/a meant not available or not applicable, which made no sense. those pictures were obviously available, so why put them in a folder entitled otherwise? clicking on it, he realized that this too was locked. sighing, he continued to be denied because of face id before being able to punch in the passcode.

when the album opened up, he jumped and turned red. this album was full of pictures of.. of you. however, not just any pictures, risky pictures. in some pictures you were in nothing but a bra and underwear. in other photos you used your hair to cover your (obviously) bare chest. he continued to scroll through these photos, his cheeks becoming embarrassingly warm. he couldn’t deny that he was extremely turned on. 

it wasn’t long before his pants felt uncomfortably tight. unbuckling his belt, he slowly pulled his jeans down to his knees and slipped his hand into his underwear, feeling how hard he was. “oh shit..” he mumbled before slipping his underwear down as well, allowing his cock to spring free.

gently rubbing his thumb over the tip, he let out a small gasp. “mmm, fuck!” he whined. he continued to use his thumb to spread pre-cum all over his tip and down the rest of his length. he couldn’t help it, it just felt so good. as he did this, armin let his thoughts wander. he imagined it was you. you sitting on your knees in front of him, teasing him with your fingers. your mouth. your tongue. 

with a quiet moan of your name, he started rubbing himself due to how uncomfortably hard he was. “oh.. oh please..” he squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to imagine you pleasuring him. bucking his hips into his fist, his moans continued to rise in volume. his cheeks were flushed as his mouth hung open ever so slightly. his pace became more and more erratic the more he pumped his length. 

opening his eyes, he clicked on a random picture in the photo album. it just happened to be a picture of you squeezing your boobs together, revealing your cleavage. it wasn’t long before he felt his stomach tighten. “m-m’ gonna cum!” he cried out, even though no one could hear him. loud whines left his soft pink lips as white ropes painted his stomach. “oh, please,” he whimpered as he slowly came down from his high. armin rubbed his sensitive tip with thumb and looked down at his stomach, watching it rise and fall with his breathing. although armin didn’t work out as frequently as eren did, he still had a decently chiseled chest and well-defined abs. a few strands of cum dripped down his abs towards his v-line.

he frowned as he looked at the picture on the phone screen. he wished he could have came on your chest, or inside of you, instead of his stomach, but for now, it would have to do. armin glanced at your phone screen one last time before he shut it off, watching as the screen turned black. he pulled his pants up before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. when he felt his feet hit the cold tile, he flipped the light switch on before heading towards his shower. he listened to the water thunder against the plastered shower floor before starting to disrobe.

once he had rid himself of all his clothes, he opened the shower door and stepped in. the warm water immediately welcomed him like a hug, which armin was grateful for. running his hands through his hair, he felt his once tense muscles start to finally relax. he knew that once he got out of the shower, he’d have a little more fun with your phone before returning it to you the next morning. 

you had spent the whole rest of the night and some of the morning worrying about your phone. “shit, shit, shit!” you cried as you tore your room apart for the umpteenth time. “where is it?!” it honestly looked like a tornado had hit your room. clothes were thrown everywhere, blankets askew, pillows piled up in a random corner, it looked like a royal trainwreck, that was for sure.

sitting on your bed, you buried your head in your hands and groaned. “FUCK!” you growled angrily. how could you have been so stupid? you could have swore you had your phone when you left.. wait. looking up and blinking, you let out yet another groan. you never grabbed your phone off the table once eren sat down. in an attempt to let out some anger, you grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and chucked it at the wall. you listened to it hit the wall before watching it fall to the ground. 

you continued to wallow in anger for a bit before deciding to get up and get ready for school. maybe it was still on the table. you highly doubted it, but you never knew, or, maybe eren grabbed it. as you came up with scenarios in your head, your tension started to ease a little bit.

as you finished putting your stuff in your locker, you saw your good friend armin walk up to you. “oh, hey armin!” you flashed him a bright smile, watching as his pale cheeks turned pink. “hi. uhm, i just wanted to uh, give this to you,” armin reached into his pocket and pulled your phone out. he held it out to you, a soft smile gracing his delicate features. “i thought you might want it back.”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little before taking it. “i’ve been looking for this everywhere! thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed. you quickly shut your locker door before giving him a big hug. he stiffened at first, but quickly melted into your embrace. armin loved your hugs. he loved your touch. he loved you.

“where was it?!” you asked as you pulled away. armin wished the hug would have lasted longer, but he didn’t complain. “oh, it was on the table you were studying at. i saw it when i went to leave. i charged it for you.” he flashed you a smile, revealing his perfect white teeth. now it was your turn to blush. you never understood how someone could be so.. so perfect. 

“i really, really appreciate that armin. you’re too sweet.” his heart felt warm and fuzzy at your compliment, however, in the back of his mind, worry consumed him. would you still think he was sweet if you figured out he had managed to share your hidden album with himself? would you still find him sweet if you knew he downloaded all your pictures to his computer hard drive so he could fuck his fist every night to it?

the sound of the bell ringing pulled him from his worry-ridden thoughts. shaking his head, he watched as you adjusted the books in your arms. “i’ll walk you to your first class.” his blonde hair covered his forehead and reached down to his eyes. “such a gentleman.” you laughed before starting to walk away. 

a few weeks had passed since armin had snooped through your phone. since then, he managed to grow closer to you, which led to you inviting him over more frequently, which in turn, made his obsession grow more and more. there were times where you left him at your place while you went and got take out food or some coffee from your favorite shared café. little did you know that he used this time to snoop through your room. he managed to find your diary, which he would read before carefully placing it back where it was. other times he would look through your dresser, staring at all your lingerie sets. oh how he wished he could just rip them off of your body, leaving pretty red marks on your oh so delicate skin. his mouth always salivated at the thought.

his most recent infatuation was giving you his hoodies. not only were they oversized on you (which he found incredibly adorable and hot at the same time), whenever you returned them they smelled like you, which drove him crazy. your scent was so incredibly intoxicating to him. to armin, your scent was a mixture of strawberries, lemon, and lavender. it wasn’t long before he became addicted. 

night after night he would buck his hips into his fist while wearing the hoodies that smelled like you. he would stare at your pictures, chanting your name like a mantra while he came all over his hand. he would go two or three rounds, falling asleep with his hand covered in his cum. 

“hey armin, can you come here for a second?” the two of you had been doing homework for the past few hours. you were wearing shorts that were way too short for you and one of armin’s hoodies that he had so graciously let you borrow. “of course, give me one second,” he quickly finished writing something down before getting up and coming to sit on the couch with you. “what’s up?”

you moved closer to him, causing a small blush to appear on armin’s cheeks. “well, i’m having trouble with this math problem. i was wondering if you could help me?” the way you looked at him through your lashes, armin could have swore he about creamed his pants right then and there. “oh uhm, uh sure!” he stuttered.

you leaned down and grabbed your textbook before setting it in his lap, allowing your hand to linger on his thigh a little longer before pulling it away. armin could have swore that you were trying to give him a heart attack. every part of his body felt like it was on fire. he was just. so. warm.

“so, where do i start?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts. shaking his head, he looked at the book. for some reason, nothing was registering to him. his eyes saw the ink on the page, but his brain couldn’t understand what it was asking. “you start with.. with..” every time armin spoke, his voice just trailed off. “armin, are you feeling alright?” he felt your palm on his forehead, sending yet another wave of heat coursing through him. “yes! i’m just fine..” he carefully grabbed your hand and put it on his thigh.

he couldn’t deny the tent in his pants, but he was praying you wouldn’t notice. “fuck.. i’m so attracted to you.” he mumbled under his breath. “what did you sa-,” within a second he had picked you up and set you in his lap, forcing you to look at him. “a-armin?!” you were taken aback by his sudden actions, but you weren’t gonna lie, you were slightly turned on. 

“how long are you gonna play stupid, huh?” he grunted. shaking your head, you just looked at him. “what do you mean?” confusion swarmed your brain. play stupid? how were you playing stupid? how did you even get to this point? all you wanted was help with a simple math problem! 

“what do you mean,” he mocked. “seriously? don’t fuck with me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “how long were you gonna sit here and fucking tease me? don’t think i didn’t notice your outfit. those shorts that are obviously too fucking short for you. your ass is practically hanging out of them. and my hoodie? i bet you don’t have anything on underneath it.” it was like armin had just flipped a switch. your once kind, innocent, friend was now basically degrading you for your choice in outfit. 

“i, i really don’t get what you mean. armin i just.. i was just trying to be cozy i really wasn’t trying to dress like a slut or anything-“ words continued to pour out of your mouth as you became painfully aware of his growing erection. “please, i’m sorry, i’ll go change..”

“no.” his voice was low, yet demanding. “you wanna dress like a slut? fine, i’ll fuck you like a slut.” your hands were starting to tremble at his words. why was he being so mean? although his rough words were turning you on, you were still soft at heart. you could feel your eyes stinging as he continued to go on, telling you how much of a whore you were. “s-stop it. stop being so mean..” your voice quivered as tears dripped down your cheeks.

you felt his hand cup your cheek as he wiped your tears. “oh honey, i’m not trying to mean. i just love you,” his voice was sickeningly sweet. “i just want you to know how mean the real world is. how if you dress like this,” he motioned to your outfit, “you’ll be called a whore. but it’s okay baby, you’re not a whore. you’re a good girl, right?” you quickly nodded, sniffling a little. “that’s what i thought.”

he wiped the new tears that had fallen down your soft cheeks before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’re my good girl, right?” he pulled back and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for a response. shaking your head, your voice trembled as you spoke. “mhm.. i’m your good girl.” an evil smile crossed armin’s face at your words. “of course you are.” 

he moved his hand from your cheek to the hem of his hoodie. gently toying with the edge, he started to pull it up. he was immediately met with your skin, which left him with a satisfied smirk. “i was right, baby. you aren’t wearing anything underneath my hoodie.” he chuckled as he pulled it completely off of you. looking away, you tried to cover yourself. “ah, ah, ah, you’re not gonna hide from me are you? i love you, so why would you hide from me?” 

his voice was like a trap. the second you heard it, you were stuck. he could always manage to get into your head. he would manipulate you, but part of you didn’t care. you craved his attention just as much as he craved yours. you needed armin just like he needed you, so why were you so scared of him in this moment?

“hey. i asked you a question pretty girl.” armin’s voice cut through your thoughts. looking at him, fear suddenly overtook you. this wasn’t your armin, was it? how.. how could it be? your armin held doors open for you. your armin walked you to class and locked pinkies with you when you were nervous. your armin gave you his jackets in cold classrooms, even if it meant he’d be freezing for the rest of the class period.

“quit. fucking. spacing. out.” armin wrapped his hand around your throat, gently squeezing to gain your attention once more. gasping, you weakly tried to pull his hand off your throat. “armin, you’re scaring me..” once the words left your mouth, his eyes softened and he immediately removed his hand. “oh honey, i’m not trying to scare you. i promise. i’m just trying to get your attention,” he brought your trembling body closer to his. “i wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

you didn’t realize how much you were shaking until armin held you against his steady body. more and more tears were slipping down your cheeks and were now wetting down his shirt. as he hugged your body closer to his, he unhooked your bra, allowing your breasts free of their constraints. “let me take care of you.” he whispered in your ear. nodding, you allowed him to carry you towards your bed.

thoughts swarmed your mind as armin gently set you down on your unmade bed. he made quick work of ridding you of your shorts and underwear. “who made you this wet baby?” he teased, watching as your cheeks turned a shade of pink. you covered your face with your hands, too embarrassed to say anything. “honey, i’m talking to you. now, answer me.” his voice was low when he spoke. 

“y-you did, armin..” your voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper. “be louder. i can’t hear you.” he remarked. shaking your head, you couldn’t bring yourself to be any louder. suddenly, he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. he got all up in your face, your noses almost touching. “fucking say it.” he growled, his hot breath fanning your face. fear coursed through your veins as you spoke quickly, afraid of upsetting him even more. “y-you did! you made me this wet, armin!” your voice was louder now, which brought a satisfied smirk to his face. “atta girl. now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

you shook your head as armin used his middle and ring fingers to gather some of your slick. you bit your tongue, trying to suppress the moan building in your throat. using his thumb, he started to rub your clit. “let me hear those pretty noises of yours, liebling.” his slow, lazy circles on your clit started to get quicker and quicker, causing you to let out a whine. “armin.. armin wait!” truth be told, you had never done this before. and by this, you meant any of this. you had never masturbated. never had sex. sure, you read stories, watched porn, and listened to your friends talk about it, but you’d never done it. 

“aw baby, what’s wrong?” he chuckled. he didn’t stop his ministrations, which caused you to whine. you tried to push him away, but it was to no avail. “i-i’ve never done this before..” you mumbled under your breath. “hm?” armin hummed as he sped his fingers up. “i-i’ve never done this!” you cried, your legs starting to shake a little. a shit-eating grin crossed armin’s features as he pulled his fingers away. it felt like you could finally catch your breath as your erratic breathing started to settle. sliding his fingers into his mouth, he sighed, satisfied. you tasted fucking heavenly. 

closing your legs, you tried to sit up, only for armin to pin you back down again. he laughed in your face, the warmth of his body radiating off of him. “oh, my sweet, sweet schatzi, you’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you? such a good fucking girl, waiting for me. you wanted me to take your virginity, didn’t you? you knew nobody else could please you like i would.” a feeling of possessiveness coursed through armin as he looked down at your features. you were made for him. now that he had you, he’d never let you go. 

you were trembling underneath armin as he slowly started kissing down your body. as he did this, he started unbuckling his belt, the noise echoing loudly in your ears. your body felt like it was on fire as armin continued to kiss your delicate skin. kicking his pants to the side, armin stopped at your plush thighs and looked up. “you look so fucking perfect like this.” he mumbled before spreading your legs. he looked at your sopping cunt, a look of hunger in his baby blue eyes. 

“i just know i’m gonna become addicted to you, more so than i already am of course..” he whispered before kissing your inner thigh. he gently nipped at the skin, causing you to squeal and try to move away from him. “stay still, damnit.” he huffed before using one of his arms to pin your waist down. he gingerly placed a kiss over the spot he bit before moving towards you dripping wet cunt. armin carefully licked a stripe up your soaking hole, relishing in the taste. it tasted like heaven to him.

he listened as you gasped at the feeling of his tongue being pressed against you. you didn’t know how to respond. it felt so weird. this was nothing like how any of your friends described it. your bare chest rose and fell as armin continued to kitten lick your cunt. his nose bumped against your clit, causing you to moan. “a-armin!” you cried as you allowed one of your hands to grasp his soft, blonde hair. he smirked before moving his mouth away. you looked down at him, his mouth covered in your essence. your cheeks felt as if they were on fire as he moved his free hand down towards your messy cunt.

you felt his fingers press against your hole, causing your eyes to widen. “w-wait!” you weren’t going to lie, you were scared. “it’s okay baby, i’ve got you. just relax.” he smiled before pushing his middle finger into you. your walls clenched around him, causing him to smirk. you were so damn tight. he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you. if you were squeezing his finger this much, just imagine how much you’d squeeze his dick.

“armin.. it feels weird..” you whimpered. “it’s okay baby. you just have to relax. you have to trust me.” he started pumping his finger in and out, trying to get you used to the feeling. the lewd noises had you gasping for air. “armin, please..” tears welled in your eyes again as you carefully bucked your hips a little. “there you go.” he cooed before carefully adding another finger. you felt your body start to relax as pleasure overtook your senses. “oh shit..” you mumbled.

armin could tell that you were finally starting to relax, which made him happy. he slowly started to speed his fingers up before leaning down and sucking on your clit. he watched as your mouth fell open and you searched for something to grab. “oh fuck! a-armin!” your legs started to shake a little, not used to this kind of pleasure. he hummed against your clit, curling his fingers to try and find that one spot inside of you. while he got you off on his fingers, he bucked his hips into the mattress, trying to give himself some sort of relief. 

“please, please,” you whispered under your breath. it wasn’t long before you felt a weird pressure building in your lower stomach. “a-armin, stop. i feel weird! please stop..” you whimpered, pulling at the sheets. your hips lifted off the bed a little as you tried to get him to slow his ministrations. he pulled away from your clit and looked at you, his fingers speeding up yet again. he had stopped grinding his hips into the mattress now to help him focus on your climax. “it’s okay, honey. you’re gonna cum. just cum on my fingers. make a mess on them.” he smirked as you gasped one last time before cumming. your legs were shaking as tears flowed down your face. you weren’t used to these feelings, this pleasure.

withdrawing his fingers from you, armin immediately brought them to his lips and started to suck on them. you were so fucking addictive. he saw that your folds were glistening with cum, making his smirk grow wider. he reinserted his fingers into you and started pumping them back in and out. you tried to push his hand away, feeling overstimulated. armin ignored you and continued to finger you. while he did this, he slowly slipped his boxers off and threw them next to his pants.

“‘m gonna fuck you real good, sweet girl, don’t you worry.” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out of you. he quickly spit in his hand and rubbed himself a few times before looking down at you. “you’re okay with this, right?” even when he was caught up in the moment, he knew how to pull himself out of that mindset and take care of you. you looked at him and nodded, a slight smile on your face. your cheeks had slight tear stains on them from crying earlier, but neither of you minded, if anything, it turned armin on more. 

he used the head of his cock to tap your clit a few times before cursing under his breath. “fuck, i forgot a condom, hold on.” he huffed. “no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it..” you flashed him a smile. armin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his features at your words. “oh sweet girl, you want it raw your first time? how sinful.” the words rolled off armin’s tongue and sent shivers down your spine. you could only shake your head as armin rutted against your soaking cunt.

“‘m gonna put it in now, schatzi. it’ll hurt at first, but you’ll be okay.” he mumbled before lining himself up with your entrance. you took a deep breath as armin started entering you. right off the bat your warm walls squeezed him, making his eyes roll back. holy fuck, you were so tight. you whimpered as he continued to push himself inside of you. he could feel your walls constricting around him, making him go insane. it felt so fucking good to be inside of you.

minutes felt like hours until he finally paused. “oh honey, i’m halfway in. you’re doing so fucking good.” at his words, you gulped. he was only halfway in?! how fucking big was he? you never got the chance to look at him before he started fucking you.. 

it almost seemed like armin could read your mind. he cupped your cheek in his hand and made you look at him. “i know i’m big, but it’s okay. you can take it. good girls like you just stay still and take it.” you just took a breath and nodded, wincing as he started pushing himself in again. it felt like you were being split in half, the pain seeming unbearable. 

time continued to pass (slowly in your opinion), before armin’s hips stilled. “that’s my girl. see, i’m inside you now. can you feel me in your tummy, love?” he cooed. his eyes looked upon you lovingly as your heart was beating erratically in your chest. he gently pushed down on your stomach, causing you to gasp. “d-don’t do that!” the pleasure that shot through you when he did it startled you. 

he chuckled and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. your kisses were just like he imagined, warm and welcoming. as you continued to kiss, he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in all at once. you broke away, gasping loudly. “a-armin!” you cried. 

“shh, shh. you’re fine. you can take it. you’re okay.” he mumbled encouraging words to you as he gripped your waist. he started thrusting in and out, the sound of skin slapping together could be heard around the room. “oh baby, you feel so fucking good. squeezing me so much.” it wasn’t long before the pain started to turn into some sort of pleasure. 

“such a greedy fuckin’ girl, hah.. can’t get enough of me? it’s like you’re sucking me back in. i don’t mind though, i’m all yours. ‘m gonna fuck you so good that you’ll never want anyone else but me.” he babbled on and on as he continued to thrust into you roughly. you just shook your head, agreeing with the blonde that was currently drilling into you. “only you. only want you. ‘m your special, sweet girl min..” you panted.

you sunk your nails into the sheets below you as you tried to ground yourself to reality. armin was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. “fuck, you’re so deep in me!” you whined. you could hear armin chuckle above you as he continued to fuck you roughly. “oh baby, you’ve gotta stop squeezing me like that.. ‘m gonna cum to soon if you keep doing— oh!” without realizing it, you had came on him.

your room smelled like sweat and sex. moans, pants, skin hitting skin, and squelching noises could be heard echoing around the four walls. “oh fuck baby.. good girl. cumming all over my fucking cock.” armin praised. you whined, your mind starting to go blank. if this would happen every time you had sex with armin, you would happily oblige.

“oh shit! sweet girl, i’m gonna cum. i gotta pull out..” armin whined, his hair sticking to his forehead. you violently shook your head. “p-please cum in me! please..” at your words, armin swore he could have came. “oh honey, you want me to come in you? want me to stuff you full of my cum the first time? you’re that addicted to me that you want me to stuff my kid into you? fucking hell sweet girl, you’d look so beautiful with my baby stuffed inside of you.” armin was mindlessly mumbling now. he was getting off on the thought of you being stuffed with his kid. 

“yes! would be so perfect with your kid in me, min! would be so perfect..” you weren’t quite sure what you were saying as you felt like you were on cloud 9. your body was stuck in a state of euphoria as you felt armin’s hips still. he whined loudly as he started cumming. 

your legs were shaking and pants escaped your parted lips as armin slowly started moving again. “wait! wait.. ‘m overstimulated!” you cried out, but he paid no mind to it. he leaned down, whispering in your ear, “i gotta make sure you’re full of my cum, sweetie. one load won’t do it. gotta breed you full, make sure you’re good and full.” you felt chills run down your spine. the intimacy of what you were doing, and him being so close, seemed to have you on edge. 

a white ring had formed at the base of his cock, your cum mixing with his. the noises you two were making were downright sinful. “holy.. ahhh..” drool was starting to drip out of your mouth as armin continued to bully your pretty pussy with his cock. he used his free hand to wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth. “you’re drooling, pretty girl.” he teased.

his words weren’t registering in your brain as you continued to slip further and further into a dumbed out state. “oh come on, don’t tell me i’ve got you dumb on my cock already,” he laughed before letting out a moan. your walls squeezed his cock just right. “we’ve only went one round, darling.” 

you mindlessly babbled some response. you were fairly sure what you said wasn’t even coherent words, but armin didn’t care. in fact, he found it quite adorable. “ah shit.. i’m not gonna last long if you keep fucking squeezing me like this, hah—“

your walls continued to squeeze and contract around him as the coil in your stomach snapped once again. you came all over him, loud moans escaping your sore throat. your legs were trembling and you could have swore that you were seeing stars. “m.. ma.. min.. oh min.. please-“ your voice was quiet, yet armin could still hear it.

“don’t worry, my love. i’m right here. ‘m gonna stuff you full of my cum, okay? you’ll be nice and full. gonna look so fucking precious with my child in you..” he hissed between clenched teeth. it only took a few more thrusts before armin came inside you again. his hips still, a sigh leaving his lips as he slowly pulled out. you had tears dripping down your cheeks, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth. 

armin watched your cum, mixed with his, drip out of your abused cunt, a satisfied smirk on his face. “oh, sweet girl, you can’t waste my cum like this.” he frowned before taking his fingers and scooping it back up and pushing it back in you. you whimpered, not being able to form words. “gonna make sure you’re bred. gotta make sure you’ll have my kid. then you’ll never leave me..”

groaning, you slowly started to open your eyes. your lower body felt like it was being ripped to shreds, the pain feeling unbearable. as you started to gain your bearings, you noticed that you were dressed again. you had on a pair of lace underwear on, along with one of armin’s t-shirts. 

what the? how did that happen? the last thing you remember was armin practically fucking your brains out. carefully turning your head, you saw armin fast asleep beside you. truth be told, you were too tired to be worried about how you got dressed again. yawning, you set your head back on your pillow, thinking about what happened.

how could your sweet, innocent armin say the things that he did last night? you coughed a little before pulling the blanket up more to cover your body. armin shifted beside you, but was still asleep. 

as you continued to think, you could feel yourself slipping right back into sleep. the last thing you thought of before losing consciousness was the fact that even the sweetest honey can turn sour..

liebling :: german. term of endearment. means dear or darling.

schatzi :: german. term of endearment. literally means “little treasure” but is also said to mean sweetheart or darling. 

#armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #armin arlert #armin aot #aot smut #armin snk #armin x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #˗ˏˋ saturn’s stories ´ˎ˗ #→˚₊·🐚 ੭* r.o.s | a. arlert

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins hcs

i'm absolutely in love with the idea of miles42 and miles1610 being twins, i'm so glad most of the fandom has basically adopted 42 lmao

some of my own twins headcanons, just random stuff to add onto other ppls hcs ive seen:

☆ 42 loves his mamí absolutely but def acts the most like his dad, and haaaates when anyone points it out. it's the most obvious when 42 gets mad, he sounds EXACTLY like his father then lol

☆ in fact, the twins polar opposite personalities is probs bc 1610 takes after his mom's temperament more, while 42 is as stoic, stubborn and slightly dorky as his dad is

☆ whenever the boys made each other cry (by accident or otherwise) they did the typical little kid thing and tried immediately comforting the other. now that they're older 1610 handles his emotions better and is mature when talking about them, but 42 is the one who comforts 1610 more often

more below ↓

☆ as well as staying on top of his academics, 42 also plays basketball and trains in a couple martial arts studios after school. 1610 is taller than 42 bc of the spider bite but 42 has always been slightly bigger and more muscular than 1610 since he's the athlete. whenever the family attends 42's boxing matches, jeff gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu from back when he attended his own brother's matches before

☆ they both got thru school p okay, not many incidents of bullying mostly bc if anyone did try, 42 would put a stop to that nonsense immediately. 42 loves his bro with his whole heart and was glad to pick a fight with anyone who gave him any trouble at all. the whole neighborhood knew it too bc the only person allowed to bully 1610 is 42 himself!

☆ in fact, 42 doesn't win the lottery to enter visions in the first place, which saddened both brothers when they found out. so because they're at separate schools now, 42 makes sure his twin knows that if any fuckery is afoot at visions that he'd be more than happy to roll up and dogwalk any fool who tries it. 1610 laughs him off but knows his bro has got his back for sure

☆ 42 likes to pretend 1610 is the nerdy one, but they are both very big anime and manga nerds. every time they hit up any bookstore, they both make a beeline for the manga section and argue over who's gonna read the newest one first (they have to share cuz those books cost some moneeyyyy, man)

☆ 1610 and 42 love their uncle to pieces, OFC. they both pick up separate traits from him, even. 42 was inspired to start martial arts and boxing from watching videos on old digital cameras that aaron hung onto thru the years. they were of a much younger aaron back in his boxing days, when his family went to his matches and recorded them from the seats. 1610 was inspired to pick up graffiti and then even started doodling in notebooks bc of aaron

☆ 1610 is def the social butterfly and easily the most popular kid on the block by virtue of how friendly and outgoing he is. 42 is more introverted and keeps a small circle of friends, but everyone is cool with him nonetheless since they fuck with his twin bro

☆ since 42 stays at home the most (lol he a homebody) he picks up cooking much better than 1610 thanks to him staying in the kitchen to help his mom make dinner while they watch telenovelas together. 42 also knows how to dance bachata and salsa much better than 1610 too

☆ both twins love physics and math but 42 is more hardware-inclined. 1610 is about software, data, and formulas. 42 is good at taking things apart, putting things together, building and engineering. he kinda takes after his uncle aaron that way, and drove his parents nuts as a lil kid when he got his hands on radios, computers, clocks, etc

☆ 1610 loves softer brighter music like JID, steve lacy, smino, frank ocean, kid cudi, post malone, and nujabes. 42 is always bumping harder shit like pop smoke, waka flocka, zillakami, three 6 mafia, benny the butcher and some oldies like paul wall, wu tang clan, biggie smalls, MF DOOM and big KRIT. they tease each other's music tastes a lot since they're polar opposites in almost every way

☆ they actually have a shared playlist where they add new music they like (probs on some e-1610 spotify or soundcloud equivalent since everything is slightly skewed on e-1610 tbh). both of them check it periodically, and 42 is the more frequent contributor

☆ they both make art but 1610 is the artsier kid for sure. 42 doodles occasionally but he's not as enthusiastic about it as his twin is. they both go around the city tagging walls whenever they have any free time, though. 1610 loves colors, expressive styles and is good at coming up with cool ways to draw text. 42's lines, accuracy and technical skill can never be beat

☆ 1610 has superpowers, sure, but his fighting skills are trash! 42 was always the scrappy one, not 1610, so he shows his twin how to properly throw punches and other useful fighting knowledge. it def comes in handy in the future

☆ jeff loves his sons to death but he often finds himself butting heads the most with 42 since they're so similar, it kinda drives them both nuts. it def gets worse once aaron starts gossiping abt what jeff used to be like when they were kids, giving 42 plenty of ammo. they love each other but their relationship is just as complicated as it is between jeff and 1610, and 42 would be lying if he said he wasn't affected by the rift between his dad and uncle himself

☆ the minute the twins turn 16, 42 goes out and gets his drivers license on the first try (computer quiz AND road test aced) and rubs it in 1610's face almost constantly. 1610 likes to throw back that there's no parking space for another car on their block, so he can't even get his own car even if he wanted to anyways

☆ whenever the boys really fight, the whole city seems to know. they squabble a lot obvi, they're brothers. but the very few times they've given each other the silent treatment like for real, everyone in the family tries to get them to make up since it's unsettling to see two peas in a pod be so hostile with each other

☆ and since they've always been attached at the hip, 1610 being enrolled into visions felt. weird. everyone thought 1610 was gonna take it the hardest but surprisingly 42 had a harder time adjusting since he always saw his bro in the hallways at school, and was so used to him knowing the latest gossip of anybody in their grade. without 1610 around as often, 42 becomes even more withdrawn than usual

rio looks up from the pot suddenly, glancing at the time. dinner was almost ready and she… hadn't seen not hide nor tail of her son this evening. he returned home from school a couple hours earlier, choosing to skip going to his boxing class to shut himself in his room.

fine. teenagers can be moody sometimes and rio would rather keep her moody son at home where she can keep an eye on him, rather than worry about what he's getting up to on the streets.

strange thing is, though... rio hadn't heard a single noise come out of that room all night. 42 usually liked to have at least some music playing, maybe video game noises out of his nintendo... oh, what was it called again? whatever, that nintendo thing he played on sometimes.

rio placed the lid on the pot and lowered the flame a bit before making her way over to her twin sons' bedroom door, hesitating a bit when she noticed no light was filtering out from the bottom either. okay... that was weird, too. neither of her sons ever went to bed before dinner. ever.

the one time rio dared to try and send her sons to bed without dinner years ago-- as punishment for fighting right there in the kitchen that time-- both twins hollered so loud they got concerned knocks on their front door from various different neighbors. never again, rio remembered thinking that time.

now, the bedroom door stands oddly quiet and completely hollow without any signs of life behind it. rio knocked anyways, hoping against hope itself that 42 didn't go ahead and sneak out of the house without her knowledge. if he did sneak out, he's grounded for 3 months, rio thinks to herself mostly as reassurance. she nervously picks at a nail and strains to hear anything behind the wood.

she thinks she hears a groan and decides to try her luck by slowly opening the door. hopefully he's not in there... y'know, doing teenage boy things, either. dios mío.

rio swings the door open to...

...a completely pitch-black room, save for the sliver of streetlight filtering in past a crack in the window curtains and casting an eerie yellow glow on anything it could touch. it is cold, and also deathly quiet.

rio is shocked.

she walks over to the right side of the room where 42's bed is pushed up against the corner, next to the windows. on that bed lies a big lump, buried under several layers of blankets. the lump stirs.

rio crosses her arms. "mijo, mi amor. are you sleeping? …pero qué te pasa, papí?"¹

42 rolls onto his back and glares sleepily at his concerned mother standing at his bedside. it's dark in the room, but rio's face is illuminated by the living room lights pouring in from the open door. she's wearing a tilted smile, but coupled with the worry lines on her forehead, it isn't fooling anyone.

42 slowly closes his eyes, chin still under the covers, and lets out the most world-weary sigh rio has ever heard coming out of someone as young as him. if it weren't coming from her own son, she might have even laughed.

she immediately sits down, lifting the cover off of 42's chin to check his temperature all over his face. he tries to wriggle away.

"maaaaaa, stop..." he grumbles, trying to pull the covers up higher over his head. "'m not sick, mamí, forreal… chill."

rio leans on a hand. "¿si no 'ta enfermó pues qué es?² what's wrong?"

42 doesn't answer for a bit and rio exhales through her nose. " 'moré, what are you doing in this pitch-black room all by yourself? no light, no music, no nothing. what's wrong? you look like you're on a death bed!"

42 finally opens his eyes again, and blinks a few times as he says, "nothing, ma. seriously, i'm just... tired. that's all. i'm fine."

"you don't look 'fine' 42, you look like 2 seconds away from flatlining."

another sigh from the boy. rio rolls her eyes and places her hand on his forehead again, then strokes his cheek.

"is it 1610? hmm?" rio asks 42. she asks so unbelievably gently, as if by only mentioning his brother's name she would shatter something in the room. a mirror or something.

42's heart clenches at the love and care his mother is showing around this particular topic. it was true, and he couldn't even deny it. having 1610 in the house less and less every week, not seeing him in the hallways at their local high school, receiving sparser and shorter replies to his texts... it was all building up in his chest and the dam was pretty close to bursting. especially now as his mom was lovingly stroking his cheek as she checked in with him. how embarassing. rio wouldn't see him cry, not right now. he closed his eyes and willed the tears away, for her sake.

miraculously, 42's voice didn't crack or waver when he said, "yeah. yeah, i miss 'im."

rio crooned something saccharine in spanish and placed a kiss on her son's forehead. she saw right through his cold tough guy act, as expected. with how much of a mama's boy 42 was, it would've been impossible not to. they spent way too much time together for her to miss how he dragged his feet getting ready for school in the mornings, how he's been skipping martial arts and basketball practice more often lately, and how unenthusiastic he's been in general.

rio chuckles as she lays her cheek on 42's forehead for a second before sitting back up. "ay, bendito. 42, you know your brother is just down a few blocks from here. why don't you go visit him soon?"

42 shuffles under the covers. he's unsure if he should even admit this, but he proceeds anyways. "uhm. he's not answering my texts lately, so." he feels strangely guilty about this, like he just snitched on his twin somehow even though he has no reason to suspect that at all.

rio sighs and looks off into the distance, bracing herself for what she's about to say. she looks back down. "yeah. i know. he doesn't answer mine, either. i was hoping he was talking to you, but... well. "

something in 42 stirs a bit. "i bet he thinks he's in some fancy private school, around rich kids, now he's too good for us," it's a weak attempt at a joke, but rio smiles down at him anyways.

"don't worry. the second he gets home this weekend, he's on house arrest. okay? he's gonna be chained to you the whoooole time. and i'm keepin' watch."

it's not much, but 42 still takes that little bit of hope and holds it gently in his mind.

"the second he walks through that door, i'm tackling him. i don't care." 42 smiles at the thought.

rio laughs, kisses his forehead again and stands up. "dinner is almost ready, by the way." she gives him a look. "you better eat with me tonight, because your brother is at school and your dad is doing overtime tonight. okay? okay."

42 sighs deeply to wake himself up a bit more as he sits up and scratches at his durag. "yeah, yeah. 'm comin', ma!"

¹ "but what is going on with you, papí?" (papí being a common term of affection for a boy in spanish, it doesn't always mean "dad" lol)

² "if you're not sick, then what is it?"

☆ until they get "too old" for halloween, the morales twins ALWAYS wear matching costumes. every year. every single year, no matter what. what they usually end up wearing changes every year and they aaaaaalways argue over it, of course. notable costumes so far: batman and superman (age 13), two ninja turtles (age 9) (im thinking mikey and donatello bc of personality but lbr rio most likely forbade either of them to be leonardo bc the twins would deadass get into a fist fight over it), tom and jerry (age 2), mario and luigi (age 7), woody and buzz (age 5), peter pan and captain hook (age 10), and-- rio's favorite-- thing 1 and thing 2 (age 4)

☆ 42 was surprisingly always very popular with the girls at school. in middle school, 1610 was the geeky one with braces and acne. 42 got off relatively easy in that regard and as a result was labeled "a heartbreaker" from the jump, which annoyed him. he has no interest in dating whatsoever and swore to never get into a relationship before graduating high school. he's got his mom and brother to take care of and he's going places after high school, damnit! 1610 on the other hand is a huge romantic and has a crush on a new person almost every year of school, easily

☆ the literal second 1610 set foot in the house after his spider bite, 42 was all over him asking a million questions since they both have that supernatural twintuition, and 42 sussed him out immediately. 1610 obviously had to come clean and tell his brother he was spiderman just like he told ganke, otherwise he was never gonna be able to change into his spider suit at home (plus they share a room, so. there's that)

1610 didn't even get to close their bedroom door all the way before his twin leaped up from his own bed and stalked over.

"óye, bro. what's up? what happened at visions?" 42 circled his brother, squinty-eyed in the exact same way their mom is when she's suspicious. 1610 dropped his bag next to his bed and plopped down on his sheets, trying to put some distance between them.

"uhhhh what're you talkin' about?" he tries casually, and immediately regrets it.

"uhhhhh what're you talkin' about?" 42 mocks. "don't play dumb with me. you KNOW what i'm talkin' about, stupid. first, you answer, like, none of my texts ever. then dad comes home sayin' you never let him talk face-to-face when he visited you a couple days ago. mamí has been texting and calling you nonstop, no answer either. you are a brand new person now, huh? qué te pasa, yo?"

1610 hunched his shoulders as he got up and slumped over to his desk. he was quietly weighing his options, nervously rearranging papers and sketches on the wooden table, wondering how he was going to break it to his brother that he was--

"lemme guess. you have superpowers now," 42 says easily. he crosses his arms triumphantly when big round amber eyes suddenly turn up to his face.

1610 searches his face for any hint of a joke. no... no way. did his brother just...?

"you're playin' with me. no way. how did you--?"

42's eyes widen. "wait, are you being deadass right now?" he threw his head back and crowed with laughter. "that was just a guess!"

1610 leaped forward and pushed his hand onto 42's mouth, shutting him up. "heeyyy hey hey hey hey shhhhh, man. damn, could you possibly be any louder? look," he took his twin by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "mom and dad can never know anything about this. okay? anything. not a word, you understand?"

42 pushes his brother off. "ok-ay man, cool it. i promise. we can shake on it, even."

wordlessly, they did their super secret handshake they came up with and perfected in the 4th grade in lieu of hooking their pinkies together. it was the morales shake, a move that binds them to secrecy and keeping promises til death. this was serious business. 1610 relaxes a bit once they're done.

"... okay. and i mean it, pencil braids. if you even breathe a word about this, or even think about--!"

"if you don't just tell me already, goddamn."

with a meaningful look thrown at his brother's way, 1610 raises an arm silently. 42 looks back expectantly.

1610 shoots a web up. he jumps up, using the web as a bungee rope to help him flip and land feet-first onto the ceiling. once his sneakers touch their ceiling, he stands up... upside-down. he stares at his brother and his brother stares back, mouth agape.

"niiiiiiice," 42 leans back and grins up at his twin brother, spiderman.

☆ 1610 is glad he has someone besides ganke to talk to about spiderman stuff, though. his brother listens way more attentively than his roommate anyways, and even tries to help sometimes esp when 1610 needs a quick distraction so he can switch from spiderman back into his regular clothes before the parents notice

☆ 42 is surprisingly cool abt his twin bro being spiderman, actually. even when they're texting 42 is careful not to imply 1610 is spiderman, and often calls stuff in to the police station if 1610 webs anyone up and lets him know. he also gets very good at bandaging up wounds quickly

☆ 42 is a hardass on the outside and contains his emotions much better than his twin, but he's kinda different around his family, since he loves them a lot. he jokes around a lot with them, esp around 1610. they also love pranking their parents, and are p creative at coming up with ways to make everyone laugh

☆ i personally picture 42's personality being sort of like huey's from the boondocks, especially around other adults. he becomes withdrawn and speaks very clearly and directly, and is very shy around strangers. some ppl mistake that as him having an attitude problem but his friends and family know better. only difference between huey and 42 is that 42 isn't nearly as woke lmfao

☆ meanwhile, 1610 becomes a motormouth around strangers and is quick to hug and kiss random family members at family reunions. as a lil kid, he'd always be the one up at the counter ordering for the both of them and chatting with the cashiers, or bus drivers, or whoever. as he gets older and used to the spiderman thing, he chats and jokes with randoms a lil less. he has to save the good material for when the mask is on

☆ 42 is a better writer than he is an artist, actually. he has notebooks filled with poetry and lyrics he scribbles down on post-it notes just to stick them in there for safekeeping. he's also been working on a sci-fi story since he was in 6th grade in absolute secrecy; he doesn't want a single soul to see it. he'd be mortified if anyone saw the nerdy shit he comes up with

☆ even tho 1610 has never fought anyone or been scrappy with anyone else, he's very good at wrestling and dodging punches thanks to his brother.

☆ 42 is the more fashion-inclined twin, even tho they're both sneakerheads. 42 just pays more attention to accessories, the fit of his clothing, how to pair the right shoes with the right jacket. 1610 throws on anything comfortable and calls it a day, and it gets even worse after he becomes spiderman. 42 clowns his brother SO HARD after he finds him wearing yellow sweatpants with an oversized red adidas hoodie and a green puffer jacket once (it was when 1610 came home from fighting a shapeshifting lizard that tried to take over cypress hills. the sweatpants were on backwards)

☆ 1610's sense of humor is geeky and he always tries too hard with his quips and jokes. he usually gets "secondhand embarrassment" chuckles from ppl. 42's style of comedy is a mix of dry humor and unintentionally being funny. this dude will say something clever with the straightest face ever and have the ENTIRE room in stitches without even meaning to

☆ just to nail home how different they are, even tho they share a room, you can tell EXACTLY which half of their room begins and ends. 1610's half is cluttered, vibrant, covered in posters and action figures, collages and trinkets on every available surface. 42's is as clean as a hospital room, and he ALWAYS makes his bed every morning. 42 has a poster or 2 hung up but he's not much for decorating in general. he's more into alphabetizing his bookshelf and looking for more efficient storage to put under his bed

☆ when jeff looks at his sons, he sees aaron and himself and sometimes it scares him. when the boys were around 12 (the Evil Year) he made SURE to sign them up for camp trips that summer and keep them close together as much as possible. he hates to see his boys drift apart at all and is the 1st one to call it out if he sees it. he just doesn't want his boys to end up like he and his brother did…

☆ … and then other times? it genuinely makes him feel a combination of irritation and also fondness bc sometimes 1610 and 42 really really remind him of aaron and himself, esp when they were young. ESPECIALLY when they argue. in every playful slap on the shoulder, every arbitrary competition started out of nowhere, every sleepy brother slowly sliding onto the other's shoulder during nighttime car rides, he sees it. he sees them, and then he sees his past. and with every little difference between the boys slowly cracking open like a chasm with each passing day, sometimes he thinks he can even see his future.

☆ 42 is cool or whatever but i also hc he's kinda… weird sometimes. it gets worse when his twin bro goes off to visions, he keeps staring at walls while sitting in dark rooms and eating at weird hours of the day. rio caught him fast asleep practically hanging off the window sill one night, and another time jeff found him having an entire conversation with a brick wall once while on patrol. 42 refuses to answer any questions

☆ after 1610 gets into visions, becomes spiderman, tells his parents abt his plans to go to princeton, etc... 42 eventually starts feeling a type of way (a jealous way…) their parents also seem to pay attention to 1610 more whenever he's home just to add insult to injury. he knows he's not supposed to, but he often finds himself thinking about the prowler gloves and schematics aaron left behind. he managed to grab them and hide them in a gym bag one day while helping his parents clear out aaron's apartment. the tech currently lives under his bed…

#mine #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #miles morales #miles g morales #BOY that sure is a lot to read huh. well. if u read all this here's a heart ♡ #can u tell i am Not Normal abt these two #esp wrt them being potential parallels to their father and uncle......... #i can scream FOREVER abt this #the morales family always has me All Up In My Feels man #also LOL @ me writing fanfic again in this post #what can i say...... i guess i can't help it lol #i just love these two they are my babies............ #also guess how many times i went and started writing “miles” for 1610 before having to backspace after realizing #yea thats right. Too Many Times #anyways hopes this like uhhh reads okay. the formatting might be weird cuz i had to copy n paste this from my notes app #but i think its cool. i hope #hope yall enjoy aallll of this lol

[wed-in-the-apocalypse]

Falling for u

I had watermelon sour patch kids while making this.

Summary: you do ice breakers and the beautiful Tara carpenter talks to you.

Warnings: shit writing first fic ever so its bound

Authors note: also idk anything about school, or how to make conversation, enjoy!

More notes: if somehow you liked this then just know I probably won't post much at all :/

BTW this is kinda inspired by first date by @persevereforahappyending

--

You sit in your usual spot in class, headphones on playing calm music.

You doodle while you wait for the lesson to start.

Then as the Professor walks in you slide your headphones to your neck and take out a notebook, flipping to a clean page and start to write down.

As the professor starts to talk about different things (again idk anything about school), in the back of the class Tara stares at you.

Unbeknownst to you she has been watching you come to class for maybe weeks now.

She's captivated by you, she doesn't know why, she's only ever seen you talk to your friends and seen you in the halls but never had the confidence to actually come up and talk to you.

Today would be different though.

She decided it was about time she spoke to you.

You always seemed so kind and quiet.

Everytime you met her eyes in the halls she would get nervous and look away, but not before you would give her a kind smile making her cheeks flush.

She was broken out of her trance when the professor announced to the students they would need to do icebreakers and pick a partner for the project, making most people groan.

But Tara however saw this as an opportunity to talk to you.

Luckily it seemed you were more interested in what you were drawing then making conversation.

So she picked up her bag and walked down to you, taking a seat next to you and tapping you on the shoulder.

"Hey,.." She was nervous, to nervous, but she knew you weren't going to start a conversation with her first judging by how you avoided everyone else. "I'm Tara"

You jumped slightly.

"Uh, Y/n"

"Sorry did I startle you?"

"No just caught me off guard" you smile, that same blinding smile she had seen before.

"Good, so um.." She trailed off, not knowing where to start. "Whats your favorite movie?"

"Knives out," you answered quickly. "I loved the mystery and the guessing who the killer was, what's yours?"

(Just pick any movie that's just my favorite)

"The babadook" she answered instantly. "Oh I hate scary movies-" "what!?, but you like knives out?" "That's a murder mystery, I hate getting scared. But what do you like most about your movie?" She opened her mouth, ready to ramble about all the reasons why you should love it, only to be cut off by the professor clapping his hands and sending everyone to their seats.

She sat back with a frown, after weeks of building the courage to talk to you she was cut off.

She made one conclusion that day, professors were evil.

(That was from first date btw)

--

When the professor finally dismissed the class Tara practically ran out the door to meet you there.

She saw you going out and pulled you by the wrist to face her.

"What the!- Tara?, what are you doing?" You exclaimed.

She let go of your wrist to rub the scar on her hand nervously, a habit she picked up after the attack.

"I um.." She trailed off not knowing how to ask you. "I uh wanted to know if-if maybe you were free on Friday?" She stumbled over her words, refusing to make eye contact with you, she thought if you didn't say yes then she could laugh it off and never speak to you again.

But before she could dive deeper into those thoughts you spoke. "Are you asking me out?" a small smile played on your lips.

"And if I did, would you say yes?" She asked hesitantly, still refusing to look into your eyes, afraid she'd get lost in them.

You broke into a full out grin, looking like a complete fool. "Then I would say yes."

This made her finally look into your eyes, she searched them for any trace of insincerity, but all she saw was adoration and hope.

She took a deep breath, composing herself to ask you correctly. "Then will you go out with me on Friday?" She hoped you wanted to.

You swallowed, trying not to smile so hard. "I'd like nothing more"

Tara let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding, and smiled. "I'll see you Friday then, how about the theater at 5?"

You nodded. "Sounds great" she smirked. "Don't be late," she leaned up to kiss you on the cheek softly, making you blush hard. "I'll see you then" then she winked and walked away, out of view.

You sighed contently.

You couldn't wait.

--

#Tara Carpenter x Reader #Tara Carpenter #Jenna Ortega #Jenna Ortega x Reader #im so good at this frfr

[myreygn]

kny modern au - characters: hashira

includes: gyomei, tengen, giyuu, sanemi, obanai, kanae, kyojuro, mitsuri, shinobu, muichiro

HUGE thanks and shout out to @giggly-squiggily and @trans-ace-lee for their contributions to this au and indulging my brainrots ♡

inspiration was taken from the german school system because that's what i grew up and am most familiar with:

ages 2-6 (flexible, not mandatory): kindergarten

ages 6-10 (grades 1-4): elementary school

ages 10/11-16/17 (grades 5-10): "secondary school", the diploma qualifies you for an education outside of university (craft sector, social sector etc)

ages 16/17-18/19 (grades 11-12): "upper school", the diploma qualifies you for university

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Himejima Gyomei (27, theology major)

grew up in a buddhist orphanage after his parents gave him up because they were ableist idiots who didn't want to raise a blind child

had a very happy childhood, has never been adopted and isn't upset about it in the slightest

went on a spiritual journey for five years after school and wrote a bestseller book about it

started going to university at age 23, helps out at the orphanage whenever he can

has a seeing-eye dog named Curry (a four year old black labrador and the only being on earth he would kill for, he got her when he returned from his journey)

can afford his own flat and lives right next to the orphanage with Curry

advocate for a more inclusive university life and very active in groups fighting for disability rights, both on and off campus

Uzui Tengen (23, music major)

was somewhat of a public figure from a very young age because the Uzui clan is one the richest, most powerful families in the country and everyone in town knows who they are

always hated his parents and moved out at 18, got a small fortune (that's rich people slang for a ton of money, source: trust me) from a cool uncle and used it to open a night club which is very popular with the locals

has no contact to his siblings (even tho he'd like to) and avoids all of his dad's properties like the plague

started going to university at age 20 because he wanted to do something with his passion

plays a bunch of instruments (piano, harp, guitar, violin, shamizen, koto and like ten different types of flute)

lives with his girlfriends in an almost-a-mansion and throws the best partys anyone has ever been to

Tomioka Giyuu (21, philosophy major)

his parents died when he was three years old and him and his sister went through foster care until she came off age and became his legal guardian, they're super close

has been studying several martial arts at Urokodaki's dojo since he was in elementary school

picked philosophy as a major because he had no idea what else to do but it's actually fun??

he mostly just sits in the back and draws stick figures but once a week he'll say something that makes everyone rethink their entire life (no one really understands what's happening inside his head but his professors are convinced he's a genius)

teaches little kids in the dojo because Urokodaki thinks it'd be good for him, he's slowly warming up to it

the type of peanut allergy where his throat closes up at the sight of them, when they were in fifth grade Sanemi almost killed him because he didn't know about it and it delayed their friendship by roughly two years

Shinazugawa Sanemi (21, physics major)

abusive pos dad got stabbed when he was ten, helped his mom raise his younger siblings and is super close with all of them

moved out at 20 when his mom encouraged him to spend more time at university, roommates with Obanai, Giyuu and Sabito

colorblind from birth and dysgraphic when it comes to handwriting, uses recording devices and laptops in class

used to get into a lot of fights in school and still works on not doing that™, most people think he's scary and a delinquent (and also a murderer because it's kinda sus that none of the family members showed up at their dad's funeral)

biker, the motorcycle has wind art on it and he mostly uses it to pick up the tons of children that somehow snuck into his friend circle and take Kanae on drives, loves bringing his guitar to play her something in the moonlight

suffered through school for the most part, a new teacher (Kagaya) in tenth grade inspired him to finish "upper school" and study physics

loves Gyomei's dog like a daughter

Kocho Kanae (21, biology major)

lives with her family and has no plans of moving out until she finishes university, helps a ton in the household

the best big sister ever, drives all of her sisters and their friends around and picks them up at 3am when they're stranded somewhere (also doesn't pretend to hate it, unlike certain other older siblings with their own vehicles)

has always been into gardening and is really getting into permaculture, puts plants wherever she can and loves flowers

most of her cooking ingredients are from her own garden, vegetarian (everything she cooks or bakes will be the best thing you ever ate)

has the voice of an angel, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho refuse to go to bed without her singing them a lullaby

christmas is her favorite time of the year, she goes all out with planning the festivities and getting everyone gifts and needs three whole days to recharge afterwards

has to wear a biteguard when she's stressed because she'll start clenching her teeth in her sleep and works really hard to keep it a secret from everyone

Iguro Obanai (21, philosophy major)

somewhat of a local legend, not by his own doing but by people just making shit up about him

grew up in a cult of which all the members were killed in a fire with him being the only survivor and a huge news story all across the country at age 12

moved to another city as soon as he was old enough to start anew but the rumors follow him everywhere (and it doesn't help that he talks to his snake)

mostly annoyed by the rumors but also likes to use them to scare people of who are being super pushy or harassing his friends (that's the first time in his life he found friends, he can and will commit atrocious crimes on their behalf)

originally enrolled in zoology, then switched majors when the professors wanted to use Kaburamaru as a test subject

spends his time in philosophy class taking a stance against whatever Giyuu says and has an entire folder filled with essays criticizing his statements

always carries headphones with him, listens to lofi because he likes it, mcr because he feels it in his soul and doom metal solely to fuck with tengen ("Screaming is not music!")

Rengoku Kyojuro (20, history major)

still lives at home with his dad and brother because he didn't want to leave Senjuro behind, spends most of his time out of the house tho and is looking for a flat right now

works parttime at a restaurant that's called Umainia and his friends have yet to figure out whether he says "Umai" all the time because he likes his food or to advertise his work place

slightly hearing impaired, has hearing aids prescribed that he just forgets to put in at all times

doesn't have a driver's license, goes by bike everywhere no matter the weather

gets close to people easily, is well beloved amongst Senjuro's friends and also makes an effort to get to know them so he can be sure Senjuro's in good hands

regularly forgets people's names but never their birthdays

collects old books and learned a bunch of old languages just to be able to read them

Kanroji Mitsuri (19, art major)

still lives at home because she wants to stay with her family and help take care of her siblings, also claims that she had invested too much time in her room to just leave it behind (her room looks like every cool fluffy fairy core room you have ever seen on pinterest, it's the coziest place on earth)

if there's a sanrio themed version of stuff she needs, she's getting it, no questions asked.

slightly allergic to dogs, she doesn't care though and cuddles with Curry all the time, she calls it confrontation therapy (it works)

animal lover in general, she even built a little terrarium in her room so Kaburamaru has a comfy spot for his naps when Obanai stays over

has kept every drawing she ever made and sometimes looks through them for inspiration, also likes to track her progress that way

there's a coffee shop across the street from her house where she has been customer of the month every month consistently for four years as well as an honorary mention ever since she was six

Kocho Shinobu (18, student)

in her last year of school and likely about to graduate with a perfect score

founder and president of the first aid club, also head of the student council and an active member on every committee the school has to offer

recently got her driver's license but keeps it a secret so she doesn't have to play chauffeur for her sisters

effectively avoids getting asked out for dates by being very scary™ (and taking jiu jitsu classes since elementary school), she's also your go to person when creepy weirdos won't leave you alone

loves cooking with her sisters and often shares her own recipes with Kanao, she also has her own little corner in Kanae's garden where she plants stuff that she uses to make her own medicine

has a lot on her plate with school and her clubs and some volunteer stuff she does here and there, so she goes to the local animal shelter once a week to cuddle and play with the cats and dogs there, it's her little safe zone to unwind and she doesn't tell anyone about it

the biggest fan of psychological thrillers you will ever meet

Tokito Muichiro (14, student)

in eighth grade and no one knows how he did it but everyone suspects that his brother took at least some of his exams in his place

he's not bad at school per se but he just can't memorize stuff, you're lucky if he knows your name after sitting next to each other for six months

is a member of the cooking club tho and absolutely thriving there, he never goes by recipe and creates the most delicious things but he won't tell anyone his secret ingredients because he can't remember them either

absolutely loves visiting his friends' houses, he's so happy seeing how their rooms reflect them

followed Yuichiro everywhere all throughout elementary school, then made his first friend in fifth grade (Tanjiro of course) and has been getting more and more independent ever since

constantly misses bus stops or takes trains in the wrong direction and is always late because of it, however he has also acquired an extensive knowledge of the town and can give you directions to pretty much everywhere

tries his very best to remember his friends' birthdays but forgets his own every year because it just kinda slips his mind that he has the same birthday as Yuichiro

#IT IS HERE #THE FIRST OF SEVERAL KNY MODERN AU POSTS #there'll be more don't worry #for now i present to you the hashira #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer modern au #kny modern au #hashira #gyomei himejima #tengen uzui #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #obanai iguro #kanae kocho #kyojuro rengoku #mitsuri kanroji #shinobu kocho #muichiro tokito #headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #kny headcanons #rey writes

[lazleylazarus]

A bunch of my monster high redesigns💀💀💀!! mostly g1-inspired

pt. 1

there were so many things I wanted to write about them but I couldn’t (im still working on it, text and pics may be edited later, there may also be mistypes)

FRANKIE!!!⚡️

even though frankie is basically the result of her father’s experiment, she doesn’t like being referred as an object and tries living her life as a normal ghoul. frankie was made to be a perfect humanoid student. though she actually isn’t perfect and constantly struggles with social adaptation issues and some of her studies (such as swimming and other disciplines that require contact with liquids), frankie also sometimes confronts other students who demonstrate their disrespect to her for being “too good” and beloved by many teachers so that she wouldn’t give others a chance to shine bright (even though that’s not 100% true). oh, and for being “just a rag doll”. however, that doesn’t stop fran from being herself. she eventually learned to ignore the bullies and even managed to become friends with a bunch of meanies thanks to her lack of social adaptation evolving into pure ghoul simplicity and kindness. as well as that, frankie sometimes shows signs of overprotection not realizing that it potentially may cause problems or may be simply annoying. loves stem subjects, handicraft, helping others sincerely and obscure media no one talks about

note: frankie herself rarely uses they/them pronouns, they’re mostly used in reports of frankenstein and his wife and official documents. frankie is ok with it unless she’s referred as “it”. that’s just how she feels

DRACULAURA!!!🦇

a little bat crybaby aristocrat who sometimes faces disrespect from others for being a human-born vampire. it’s not like a sin or something, just teens being assholes to each other. she’s mostly seen with frankie and clawdeen or clawd wolf, drac’s boyfriend. draculaura becomes very anxious when she’s not with her friends. she and clawdeen founded a club for “hermit” or “rejected” monsters (they haven’t decided on the name yet) but they were the only permanent members until they met frankie who not only became a part of the club herself but also helped to bring new monsters and even friends, which is quite ironic. draculaura is a vegetarian and her current eating habits presumably developed from the illness which almost killed her before turning into a vampire. well, more like they were caused not by the illness itself but by the cause of this disease. kinda theatre kid. loves romantic stuff, gothic lolita fashion, sweets and writing her own novels which she rarely shows to others

note: later I remembered vampires don’t tolerate crosses but I really love it how they turned out so maybe there would be unholy unconsecrated crosses which do not affect them?? they’re not demonic, they just can be used as accessories by vampires. yeah that’s it. im yet to figure it all out

CLAWDEEN!!!🌖

a sassy werewolf who appreciates fashion, art and also designs her own clothes. clawdeen is a fashionista who dreams of becoming a popular model and designer. but she’s not a typical high school hyperfeminine diva girl, she really loves sports and she may act like a tomboy. clawdeen’s biggest flaw that makes her different from other werewolves is her inability to fully transform into a wolf at her age which is seen as some kind of rare disability. clawdeen doesn’t like talking about it and rarely hangs out with other werewolves except her siblings. as an extremely loyal ghoul, she also seems to have some traumatic experience in romance. that may explain why she tends to avoid romantic interactions and looks seemingly anxious when she witnesses them or when someone flirts with her. clawdeen is secretly envy for some of her friends and elder brother being happy in relationships but she can’t do anything about it. who knows, maybe she’ll find her happiness one someday. loves fashion, art, grunge music and true crime documentaries

#monster high #mh #frankie stein #draculaura #clawdeen wolf #redesign #fanart #fan art #monster high redesign #character design #artist on tumblr

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly Track 1: Before the Beginning

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.

warnings: It's the Daisy Jones and the Six!AU, Enemies to friends to lovers, Love triangles, sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc., fake relationships, bad parents all around, era-typical misogyny and sexism, mentions of reader's looks (as being very beautiful), partially interview format, no use of YN

AN: Hi, if you're a longtime TCGU reader, please read this note from me explaining this new format. If this is your first time coming across This fic, welcome! Please enjoy my attempt at a Daisy Jones and the Six!AU with some Fleetwood Mac-messiness thrown in.

MASTERLIST🎸

Prologue 🎤

WC: 8.6K

***

STEVE: Right, so I just start talking into this microphone thing?

INTERVIEWER: Yes, but you need to introduce yourself first.

STEVE: You know who I am, we’ve known each other for—ah, okay, okay sorry. I’m Steve. Harrington, obviously. Former lead singer and guitarist of The Downsides. So, uh, where do I start?

INTERVIEWER: The beginning—tell me about how you first got involved with music.

STEVE: Right, okay, I can do that. I grew up kinda lonely. My dad was this big real estate investor but we lived in Indiana of all places, so he was always traveling. I don’t think I remember him ever being home for more than a month straight growing up… and my mom was there but she wasn’t there, ya know? She drank a lot and spent a lot of time in bed, that sort of thing.

***

1962-1972, Los Angeles California

Your childhood is a lonely one but it’s also a boring and predictable one.

Born in sun-soaked LA to a movie director father and his much younger model wife, two people who didn’t know each other well enough to either love or hate the other. They maintained a similar distance in their marriage as the one they tried to uphold in their individual relationships with you, their child.

So, your infancy was spent in a rotation of different nanny’s arms with your parents’ presence only dotting the periphery of your life. Who could blame them, after all? Infants are so contrived and boring compared to the big, wide, world of art that was Los Angeles in the 1960s.  Your parents were far too busy trying to cement their legacy in the art they created and inspired to spend too much time looking after you.

(Much later in life, you would find yourself wondering if your parents ever saw the irony  in the fact that your art ended up eclipsing their entire existence in the end and their only legacy was that of being your parents.)

As a child, however, you spent little time thinking of legacy and instead spent your time trying to feel less lonely.

***

STEVE: When I was a kid I would wonder why my parents even had me. Sorry, that’s like a total bummer thing to say during an interview. But it’s true. And you said to tell the truth. I never felt wanted by them. Until I got famous, and even then… but that’s not new,  a lot of kids grow up feeling lonely, right?

***

The employees who raised you were nice enough, but they saw you for what you were: a means to an end. A paycheck with big, sad, beautiful eyes that may beget sympathy, but they couldn’t get too close to.  The children you came to meet at your elite California private school seemed palatable enough at first, but the more you interacted with them, the more you found yourself at a loss. It was like they spoke a secret language you did not know—a language of price tags, and ever-changing hierarchies and thinly-veiled insults. One that your mother spoke perfectly, but never bothered to pass down to you.

You end up turning to books instead. The home library your father kept up for appearances’ sakes became your favorite room in the house and your teenage growth spurts were fed by any and all novels you could get your hands on from historical biographies to soapy romances, you read them all.  You loved them all, but you loved poetry the most— emotive and raw in ways you were unfamiliar with. You liked the way the syllables rolled gracefully into one another and how each word served a purpose—compact with meaning and so unlike the people around you who were so careless with their words.

As you began to age, and the meaningless mess of childhood shifted into the sharpness of adolescence, you began to write yourself. One day, somehow you had the idea of putting your poetry to music. If you could write songs good enough to be played on the radio then maybe you could earn people's adoration through your art like your parents had, you reasoned. Maybe you could even earn their adoration. You beg your parents for piano lessons, and they scoff at the thought.  “But what’s the point of having one if no one can play it?” You ask, referencing the piano in the grand foyer.

“That piano is not meant to be played,” your mother explains, slowly, “it’s meant to be admired by our guests.”

She walks away from the conversation before you can even protest.

Instead of giving up, though, you went to the library and borrowed all the books you could on music and piano playing and slowly began to teach yourself. You were not very good, at first, and both your parents made a habit of reminding you whenever they were around to hear you practicing. Luckily, they were rarely around.

***

STEVE: My parents signed me up for every single activity and extra-curricular you can think of: karate, basketball, pottery.   The one that really stuck though, was guitar lessons. Soon, that was the only thing I wanted to do it was something I was actually good at. Not something I had potential in, not something I was passable at. It was something I was good at. My dad did not like the idea of me going into music at first—he wanted me to take on a “manlier” hobby—but even he couldn’t deny that I was talented, and he sent me to this specialized music school in Indianapolis. That’s where I met Robin. That’s when I stopped feeling so alone.

ROBIN: Robin Buckley, brass, bass, and synth for The Downsides.

I met Steve when we were thirteen, I think, at this fancy music school in Indianapolis. I was there on scholarship.  I’m not going to lie, he was obnoxious, but most thirteen-year-old boys are. Even then, though, there was something about him that made everyone want to be his friend. He was also really talented. He never had to work very hard to be good at something, but he worked hard anyway. I hated him at first, but he wore me down and we eventually became best friends.

***

1978

Your music became a good outlet for all your loneliness and anger and disappointment, but it was not a cure for any of those things. You craved friendship and commonality and to be liked beyond the surface.

One day, when you were towards the end of seventeen, you decided to go exploring. You had heard Emily Cooke whispering salaciously in the girls’ bathroom at school about sneaking into the Whiskey A Go-Go to see The Six playing and an idea began to blossom.

Your home was only a walking distance from the Strip, the aptly named piece of street that was lined with clubs and musical venues, so that day, after hearing Emily’s plan you decided to try your luck at the Whiskey. You loved music, after all, and you wanted to be good at it, like the musicians that played there. Plus, there were others that shared those interests and the was a chance that some of them would be more tolerable than Emily Cooke.

You waited in line, by yourself, donning an outfit that you hoped made you look older than you were in an organic, cool way. When you made it to the doorman, you smiled trying to look more confident than pleading. His eyes raked over your body once, then twice and you resist the urge to flinch away. You had known then that you were beautiful—mostly because it was the only thing your mother valued in you— but what you hadn’t known was how far just being beautiful could get you. The doorman had let you in the club, not even questioning when your voice wavered while you had told him you were older than you actually were.

***

ROBIN:   Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Steve was my first kiss.

INTERVIEWER: Uh, Robin?

ROBIN: Oh, right…. Well, whatever, Steve Harrington was my first kiss. He was also the first person I told that I liked girls. I knew from a really early age that I didn’t find men attractive but when Steve kissed me at our high school dance I had this immediate realization and I sorta burst out, “Steve, I like girls.” It was a really great moment of self-awareness for me—growing up as a girl, they always try to put you in this box of like feminity and being whatever men wanted you to be, including an object to be looked at or pawned over. I didn’t know how being gay fit into all that, until that moment.

I don’t think it was that great of a moment for Steve, though.

STEVE: She told you about that? Well, for the record, it wasn't that I wasn't happy for her, it's just when you're a teenage boy and if your first crush admits she's a lesbian moments after you kiss her for the first time, well, it does not do your ego any favors, does it?

***

The moment you walked through that door, your life became severed in two: the before and the after. You watched, from the fringe of the crowd, as Billy Dunne crooned soulfully, and the audience sang his own words back to him.

You briefly imagine yourself on the stage, being someone that people would actually want to come see, someone that people would listen to. Someone people would love.  

***

STEVE: I always knew I wanted to be in music. It was the only thing that ever made sense. Wait, no, that’s not right… It’s the only thing that ever made life make sense. So, I started working at it, like seriously working it at, when I was 16. I bought as many records as I could, figured out what I liked, what I could do, and I practiced all the time. Like all the time. Robin did, too. I would play the guitar and sing, and she was insane on the trumpet and bass. I don’t think we ever sat down and had a conversation about whether we wanted to form a band or even what we wanted for ourselves in the future. We just always knew it was going to be the two of us, and we were going to be making music. Of course, you can’t have a band with only a guitar and a trumpet, so we had to start looking for more members.

***

1980

From that point on, your life had purpose.

You began to study everything about music—obsessively. You collected records, you played the piano until your fingers became cramped and sore or until your mother yelled at you to stop.

You filled notebook after notebook with lyrics, some good, many bad.

But you also kept your eyes on the tabloids and the gossip rags and the fashion magazines. To be a successful musician, you had to be good of course, but you also had to be well-liked. Growing up in the environment you did had given you a very unique perspective on this. Since infancy, you had seen hopeful artists-to-be approach your father for a chance, or ask your mother for advice. The most successful of them were not always the ones who had the best things to say, but those who said what they had to say in the best way.

 You practiced giving fake interviews in front of your mirror and in the shower. You stayed on top of trends and bought the best-fitting clothes. And most importantly, you tried to associate yourself with all the right people.

By the time you turned 18, you were well-known, even beyond the Strip. Photos of you standing next to the bass player/drummer/guitarist/lead singer of whatever band might have been riding a momentary wave of popularity at the time began to appear in tabloid magazines.

Most of them were men. Most of them wanted something out of you. You became a master in the art of giving just enough for them to think they had a chance with you if it meant that you could learn from them or convince them to listen to one of your songs. But every time you would even mention the idea that you wrote music, you would come hit a wall of patronizing, feigned interest followed by a grab at your chest.

Then came Jason Carver. Lead singer of the Letterman’s, Jason Carver. You dated him for a few weeks, right after you had turned 18. He was 25 and just charming enough for you to overlook his frequent condescension. Plus, he had promised that he would teach you a few chords on the guitar.

One day, you had come over to his apartment and he was getting all worked up because the band’s label was on his ass about writing a song and he couldn’t quite get it right. He needed to write a love song, something introspective and sweet but Jason could only churn out party anthems and songs meant to be played in dive bars.

Eventually, after hearing him gripe for what seemed like an eternity, you sent him off to take a shower and in the meanwhile compiled all of his shreds of half-lines and began to work filling in the gaps. Forty minutes later, you had a solid chorus and first verse to present to him for a song you thought should have been called “All At Once”. You thought that this would’ve made him happy, after all, you had gotten him one step closer to a possible song. (And maybe, you had secretly hoped, in all of his gratitude he could be swayed to give you a writing credit on the song).  Instead, he laughed at you like you were a child pretending to do an adult task and asked you to leave with a hasty promise that he would call you later that week. He never called. The hurt you felt was only a pin-prick. Six months later, you heard The Letterman’s on the radio: a new song by them called, “All At Once”. You tried to convince yourself for a moment that there would be no way that Jason could blatantly steal your song after having mocked you for even trying to write. But, boy, were you wrong. Those were, in fact, your lyrics, on the radio. Yes, the band had added another verse but, ultimately, your lyrics were all there. The same lyrics Jason had so easily dismissed six months prior.

That was when you realized if you were going to get ahead in the industry, you were going to have to play dirty, like Jason Carver.

***

 ROBIN: We met Argyle in Chicago. Once we graduated high school Steve and I started working as subs for small bands in the Midwestern circuit. Yes, it was as grim as it sounds, but it paid the bills and helped us meet people. Argyle was the drummer of some Reggae band that needed a bass player for a few weeks when their bassist got arrested on possession charges. I subbed in and was immediately super impressed by his skills. People always underestimated Argyle, to this day, because of the whole vibe he gives off, you know? But he’s smart and adaptable. Anyway, when his bassist lost his case, the band broke up indefinitely and I tried my best to convince Argyle to join Steve and me. There were two of us, we’d never played an official gig, and we didn’t even have a name, but Argyle said yes. Next was Nancy. We held open auditions for a keyboardist once Argyle was onboard. After five passable auditions, Nancy Fucking Wheeler walks in in this long skirt and bows in her hair. She had a book of Debussy sheet music for God’s sake. I almost burst out laughing when I saw her because I thought she must have been lost but then, in true Nancy Wheeler fashion she blew us all away. Ugh, was that woman talented. And gorgeous. Steve’s jaw had to be crane-lifted off the floor, it was love at first sight.

STEVE: It was not. She’s exaggerating.

1980

Ironically, you met Murray Bauman at one of your parents’ parties.

You knew he was a music producer for Starcourt Records because he kept loudly boasting to his date about it. The same Starcourt Records that the Letterman’s were signed on to.

You waited until he was two gin martinis in and standing alone admiring your father’s latest art purchase before you approached.

“Hello,” you said, brandishing a dazzling smile, your whole body angled and ready to perform this familiar dance.

“Aren’t you the producer for the Letterman’s?”

He shot you a grin that borders on swarmy and said, “why yes, I am and you look like you’re out past your bedtime.”

You didn’t react to his statement and instead marched onwards, “I loved their latest song, ‘All At Once’ right? It’s so romantic.”

“Between you and me, I’m not sure how Carver popped that one out, he’s a bit of a meathead if you catch my drift.”

He didn’t wait to see your reaction before laughing at his own joke.

“Yeah, actually, I’m not surprised to hear that considering I dated him,” your eyes flashed in a way that you hoped came off as dangerous, “and that I wrote that song.”

He regarded you for a moment before breaking out in a laugh. When he saw your expression remained unchanged, he stepped back in assessment.

“Oh shit, you’re being serious.”

You only nodded grimly.

“Okay, well that’s a new one. Usually, girls come up claiming that one of those idiots impregnated them, not this.”

He regarded you again, searching for a trace of a lie. He sighed, “So let’s say that you did write the song, which, knowing what I know about those Neanderthals, I am willing to entertain the possibility of this being at least partially true, then what does that mean? You’re going to blackmail Starcourt? Do you want money?”

You gestured vaguely behind you, sure that he must have known who your parents were. “I don’t need money.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I write music. Obviously. I want to write for your label.”

A grin broke out across his face, “Oh, boy.” He started to laugh: a deep chuckle that floated up from his belly.

“You and every other Joe Schmoe in Hollywood, sweetie.”

“But not every other Joe Schmoe wrote a song for one of your most popular bands.”

Murray regarded you again, he gave you a look you’re all too familiar with. One that says he did not expect such a fight in such an unassuming package.

“Here’s the deal,” you start, taking his brief lapse to pounce, “all I want is for you to take my demo tape and listen to it, like actually listen to it. Do that and we never have to mention this again.”

“And if I say no to your little proposition?”

You smile at his question before offering a small piece of paper, “Then here’s the business card to my lawyer he’ll be reaching out.”

This, puzzlingly, makes the man burst out laughing once again.

“Let me get this straight, you just want me to listen to your tape? That’s the grand blackmailing scheme? No record deal, no music video?”

You shake your head in response, “No, I think my music speaks for itself. I just need to get it in front of the right person.”

Murray’s still chuckling to himself as he extends his hand out signaling for you to drop the tape you are now holding in his hands.

“Fine, but you are one shitty blackmailer.”

You were signed to Startcourt Records a month later.

***

STEVE: Once Nancy joined, we were a band, and so we needed a name. I suggested the Steve Harrington experience but the girls shot me down like, right away. We ended up fighting about names for like an hour. It was actually Argyle who ended up coming up with our name. The Downsides, he had said, since we were all so negative about everything. He had said this after Robin had said I was 'all hair and no brain'. Not the best of origin stories, I guess. But we liked it and that’s how we became The Downsides.

***

NANCY: Nancy Wheeler, former keyboardist for The Downsides.

  I had been playing piano since I was eight, it was just one of those things my parents signed me up for to make me more well-rounded for college applications but I ended up loving it more than they had hoped.

I auditioned for the band on a whim, I was going to Indiana State at the time, getting my teaching degree but I loved playing the piano more than I would ever love being a teacher. To be honest, when I auditioned, I didn’t think they were going to take me, not even after I saw they had another girl in the band. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I had the talent for it, I just didn’t necessarily give off Rock and Roll vibes, but they accepted me anyway.

  I had a feeling Steve liked me from the moment we met, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him then. He’s Steve Harrington for God’s sake. Girls had posters of him up on their walls for the better part of the 80s. I just—I didn’t want people to think I got the spot because I was involved with the lead singer. I wanted people to know that I earned my place through talent. Steve was really disappointed when I turned him down, but he was always really respectful about it.

  That didn’t mean he stopped being interested or that I didn’t feel his eyes on me during every rehearsal in the summer of ‘81.  

1981

Of course, you knew that when you had been signed to Starcourt Records it wasn’t completely because of your talent.

You had started to wonder, however, if Starcourt had given you a shot because they didn't want to risk litigation or maybe because those record execs had seen your name floating around in a magazine or, more importantly, your picture.

The more you thought about it, the more insecure about your place you had felt, like an imposter among others who had earned their spots. But, after one week of rubbing shoulders with the musicians over at Starcourt, you realized that to be able to make it, you were going to have to ooze confidence, even if that confidence was fake.

***

NANCY: We started playing gigs together around the Midwest. In the beginning, we mostly played covers but eventually, we started writing our own music. I’m not a great songwriter and, to be frank, neither is Steve, so a lot of the stuff we were coming up with was pretty simple but it worked for us. We went from playing weddings to actually getting gigs that paid money. I mean it was barely enough to cover gas to get there but it was something. I guess, for the sake of transparency, there is one more thing I have to talk about while we’re talking about this time in the band’s life.

Steve and I spent a lot of time writing music together. It was great, being able to get close. I thought we were becoming friends. He was still a bit hung up, though and one night, when we were up late writing at his tiny apartment, he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

The next day, I told him that that couldn’t happen again. I gave him my reasons and he respected that but still, I could tell he was crushed. I think that between the kiss and us having this talk, he had begun to hope that something would happen between us.

I think that’s what made me and Jonathan hurt him so much more. 

1982

You didn’t necessarily like Murray when you first began to work with him but you did trust him. In the professional capacity at least. He never tried anything with you, which you appreciated although that bar was abysmally low.

You hadn’t known what to expect on your first day in the studio but you had a feeling that as far as the music was considered, you were in decent hands.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

The moment you had stepped into the studio, Murray had handed you a stack of music, all unfamiliar and definitely nothing you had written.

“What’s this?” You had asked, eyes crinkling in confusion.

“A few contenders for an EP. The team over at marketing came up with some branding concepts and this is what we landed on.”

He then pulled out a thick folder overflowing with pictures of what you assumed the studio had wanted to mold you into. It was all bubblegum and teased hair and not at all what you had envisioned.

“Wait, Murray, I don’t understand.  I have a brand, one that I've spent a lot of time curating along. This isn't me and this is definitely not my music.  You said I could sing the music that I’ve written.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Murray hummed, condescendingly, “I never said that.”

“Well, if I can’t sing my music then I just won’t sing at all.” You were the full image of a petulant child, arms crossed and lips dangerously close to a pout.

Murray feigned concern for a moment before hunching down so that he was at eye level with you.

“You signed a contract,” he spoke slowly, “Starcourt owns you, and if you don’t like it, then talk to a judge.”

He turned away from you, leaning against the mixing console. He speaks again after what seems like an eternity.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not saying it’s ethical or right, but if you want to make it in music, you got to play the game. You can’t come in here, swinging your metaphorical dick around, calling the shots when you haven’t proven you can rake in the dough.

“Sure, you’ve got talent, but who doesn’t? Right now, there’s a line of girls around the block who can sing and write and are probably better at following directions, waiting to take your spot.

"Plus, I read the songs you sent over, you have some good lines but there's not a single song worth attaching Starcourt's name to. Take this as an opportunity to learn, to be better, to actually work for something for the first time in your life. You have nothing right now, so nothing is below you, not even this pop dribble they're giving you to sing.

"I’m not saying it’s always gonna be this way, but you have to prove to them that you can play before they take you seriously, and then if you got what it takes, you can start writing your own music. Hell, if you make them enough money, they’ll let you play the fucking didgeridoo and go out in a nun’s habit… well, maybe not the habit, but the point stands. So, can we stop acting like the spoiled princess we are for just one afternoon and get to rehearsing?”

You snatched the book of songs from his outstretched hand and with a smile on your face, tore it down the middle before stomping off.

It had taken five days of Murray, along with various other executives at Starcourt, pounding on your door at the Chateau Mormont—the hotel that was your permanent residence since you had turned 18— before you had even considered setting foot in Starcourt again.

All it took was a gift basket full of Champagne and half a dozen threatening letters from their legal team.

***

NANCY: Jonathan came on as our second guitarist. I remember when he came to the audition he was this quiet, super shy kid who barely managed to make eye contact, but once he had a guitar in his hands, he had this way of coming alive. He wasn’t a showman like Steve, but he was electric when he played.

We—I never meant for things to turn out the way they did but with Jonathan, it wasn’t much of a choice. I know this sounds so cliche, but we were drawn to each other. I remember, during rehearsals, even before we really knew each other, he and I would lock eyes from across the room and I would know exactly what he was thinking.

Soon, we were sneaking around together. We were getting more and more serious, it was only a matter of time, honestly, before the others found out. Jonathan wanted to come clean early on, he could tell it was causing me so much stress, but I didn’t want to tell anyone else. Part of it, was Steve, of course, but also, what Jonathan and I had felt precious and personal and ours. I wanted to stay in this bubble we had built for ourselves.

Of course, it was Steve and Robin who eventually caught us, making out in Jonathan’s car after rehearsals one day.

To say that Steve took it hard is probably an understatement. He skipped rehearsal for five straight days and when he showed up he had this new song he had written, this ballad called, “Regret You”.

“If I never had you, then why can’t I forget you / I hate myself because I could never regret you.”

Yeah, that was an awkward one to rehearse but, to his credit, it was a great song. It was the song that got us noticed.

1982

You had spent months recording your first EP, a five-song collection the studio had decided to name “The Setlist”. It was meant to be a play on your groupie status, or at least that’s what some intern over in the marketing department had claimed, a little too proud of himself for your liking.

While you couldn't ignore the sense of accomplishment that bubbled below the surface, you mostly felt empty. 

The whole thing made you think of your father, whom you hadn't spoken to in years but had a very staunch view on artistic integrity. He despised artists who 'carelessly churned out poor imitations of real art for money'.  "To make art is as close as one can get to being god," he had explained to you once, with self-important tears in his eyes, "why would anyone sell that off? Art should mean something to the artist. Otherwise, they are a peddler of fake divinity." 

Your father had never had to worry about money a day in his life. 

That empty feeling was only exacerbated when, the Friday after you had officially finished recording, Murray had invited you to lunch with a particular proposition in mind.

“No, Murray, not gonna happen. Over my dead body and all that,” you spat from across the table.

“Listen, I don’t want to pull the contract card on you, but I will,” he warned with no real heat as he swirled his gin martini in one hand.

“Nice try,” you mirrored his pose, martini and all, “but the contract doesn't cover this, only original work. Not duets. You know that, I know that, so why don’t you try again and give me one good reason why I would even consider a duet with The Letterman’s.”

Murray gave you a look you had come to familiarize yourself with—one that was equal measures of pride and annoyance. It was the look he gave you whenever you bested him.

“How about the fact that they’re one of the hottest acts right now and being on a track with them would guarantee you a spot on the charts which is a great place to be at any point in time, but especially when you’re about to release an EP?”

Your face dropped in the way it only did when you knew Murray was right about something you didn’t want him to be right about. A look he had been starting to familiarize himself with.

"Fine, I’ll do it, but I want to spend as little time as possible with Jason. He’s a pompous ass.” “No disagreements there, sweetheart.”

The day you were scheduled to record with Jason and the rest of his band, he was an hour late. You hadn’t doubted for a moment he had done this on purpose.

When he finally had shown, he pretended not to know you, a game you had quickly caught on to, and made sure to respond with, “It’s so nice to meet you, Jackson” after he made a show of introducing himself to you which made the rest of his band and Murray guffaw.

Jason narrowed his eyes at you, his voice struggling to stay level, and said, “Watch it. We’re the ones doing you a favor here, remember?”

“I did you one first,” you responded, your eyes meeting his gaze, “remember?”

It had taken 20 minutes for his bandmates to calm him down, but eventually, the two of you got into the booth.

Your only priority had been to do your best job in as few takes as possible because you did not know how much longer you could tolerate being in Jason’s presence.

In the end, after a two-hour session, Murray had sent you both home, either happy with the finished product or at his wit’s end with the tension. Either way, three weeks later you had a duet with The Letterman’s called “It Was You” and just as Murray had predicted, it was quick to climb the charts.

You were getting noticed.

***

NANCY: Not long after Steve wrote “Regret You” we got noticed by a scout from Starcourt Records. I think at first we thought it was some sort of scheme, but it was legit. They had us record a few demos and in something like six months, they moved us to a house in Culver City.

The whole thing had felt like some sort of fever dream. I had to quit school and tell my parents. They didn’t even know I was in a band. Or seeing anybody. Needless to say, they didn’t take any of it well. When we got to LA, we did more test recordings and they even had us playing some shows at a few clubs on the strip.

Like I said: total fever dream.

But, when you’re under the thumb of a label like that, there are certain stipulations. One of the first things they told us was that they wanted to make our sound more modern and pop. We kinda

had an alternative, experimental sound back then. They said synth was going to be the new thing so they wanted Robin to learn how to play the synthesizer which meant that on certain songs, Jonathan would have to take over for bass. Also, they wanted Steve to be more of a frontman and less of a guitar player. Steve could always work a crowd, and they wanted to use that, especially with this new sound they had envisioned for us. All of this meant we needed another guitar player and, believe it or not, the label already knew who that was going to be. Eddie Munson.

***

EDDIE: Okay, here we go.

 I’m Eddie Munson, lead guitar for The Downsides.

 I  grew up trailer trash in some town that no one’s ever heard of. My mom died when I was eight and my dad was in and out of jail pretty much my entire life--well, until those royalty checks started rolling in, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

  People always use the dead mom/jailbird dad thing to either turn me into a sob story or villainize me, so I generally tend to avoid talking about it but since it's you, I'll say this: the thing I remember most about my mother is her absence and there is not a single redeeming thing about ole' Munson Sr. but I don't think they're responsible for any of the ways I've fucked up over the years. Nah, kid, that was all me.

Let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?

At the tender age of ten, I was gifted an old beat-up guitar by my uncle. Clearly, something he had picked up at the local Goodwill to try and keep me occupied and out of trouble. The neighbors hated us after. They hated us, even more, when it turned out that I could actually play.

When I was 18, Uncle Wayne got the idea that I was ready to commit to a life of indentured servitude over at the factory and that did not sit well with me, at all. I wanted to be a musician. But, instead of talking to him about it, you know, like a rational person? I just ran.

I sold my van and got a one-way ticket to LA. The metal scene was starting to pop up on the strip and music—metal—was the only thing I was good at, so I thought, ‘what the hell!’ and booked it. I slummed it for a few months and then, through some stroke of luck, I heard about a band that was auditioning for a new guitar player since their last one got hitched and quit. The Metal Gods smiled down on me the day of the audition because that same afternoon they called me back and told me they wanted me on as lead guitar.

1982

“It Was You”, your duet with The Letterman’s peaked at number 6 on Billboard’s Top 100 in October of 1982.

Suddenly, everyone wanted you to be featured in their songs. Your EP did well enough, but it didn’t even crack the top 30. That didn’t keep you from being the hot new thing on the scene and a

huge part of that was your reputation.

Of course, people knew who you were because of your groupie days, and you unintentionally built a reputation for being romantically involved with different musicians. So, when you broke out on the scene with a romantic duet, people started talking, and the tabloids began to spin stories about you and Jason being romantically linked which only caused a buzz for the song. You, of course, hated this and vehemently denied being involved with Jason to anyone who would listen. Jason, meanwhile, played it coy with the press, only fueling the rumors and your rage.

“Listen, I hate the guy as much as you do, sweetheart, but you got to respect the strategy,” Murray had said after hearing you gripe about one particularly salacious headline.

Before the year was through, you had been featured in five other duets. All with male artists. All resulting in more and more outlandish dating rumors. And all enjoying a lengthy stay on the top of the charts.

Starcourt had begun to push you to take it a step further and Brenner had asked for Murray to arrange outings between you and whatever male artist you were collaborating with. The meetings—you refused to call them dates—were always somewhere that was strategically public, somewhere where there was always at least one paparazzi with their cameras locked and ready. The pictures they would take would always make it to at least one gossip magazine, which resulted in even more publicity for the song.

Your partners—you refused to call them dates—were, at their best, cordial and business-like, one or two of them even asked for your permission before holding your hand. At their worst, though, they were handsy, entitled, and rude. None of them ever tried to ask you out on a real date and you weren't sure what that said about you.

Soon you were racking up duets and notoriety in equal measures. Radio DJs would make jokes about you every time they would play one of your songs—and they played your songs a lot. Once, while you were walking around Rodeo, a woman stopped you in the middle of the street and told you, very brazenly, that you needed to stop sleeping around so much. Before you could even tell her off, though, she proceeded to gush about how much she loved your duet with The Letterman's.

It seemed like everyone seemed to see you in a similar light though: they thought you were some sort of despicable maneater but all they wanted was more of a reason to talk about how you were a despicable maneater.

Murray had his work cut out for him, “We just need to find a way for you to have this same buzz all the time.”

***

EDDIE: Things started to pick up with Corroded Coffin. We were playing shows pretty much every night.  As I said, metal was on the rise and we were at the forefront. Eventually, record label bigwigs had no choice but to acknowledge that.

Some of them got smart and started poaching bands early on, like Starcourt. Corroded Coffin signed with them in ‘82. We thought we were hot shit after that.

There’s a certain lifestyle that goes along with that, though, you know? A reputation that you have to uphold.

I'm not trying to make excuses for myself here, trust me. I'm just...trying to explain myself.

People always love to talk shit. They'll call you all sorts of names before they see you as an actual person. Trust me, I would know. But, these interviews are an opportunity to set the record straight, to finally be seen as an actual person.

So, there I was, a nineteen-year-old kid from Bumfuck nowhere, finally making it big, finally feeling like I belonged somewhere--like for the first time I wasn't a freak whose mom died or some trailer trash high school dropout--of course, I was gonna get swept up in it all. Of course, I was going to start picking up the bad habits and doing drugs. There was no one there to tell me otherwise.

It started out as something to get us through the madness that was our schedule: between the live shows and the studio time, we needed uppers just to keep us on our feet. Then, obviously, you needed the downers so you could fucking relax because the uppers made you so tense. 

I stopped enjoying the drugs pretty early on, but at that point quitting wasn't something that I was willing to put that much effort into. 

1983

The first time someone asked for your autograph, you were at a show at Whiskey a Go Go. Murray, acting as a sort of manager, had set up a photo opp with Charles Riva, your latest duet partner. He hadn’t shown that night but you never walked away from a live show.

Two girls, not much younger than you, appeared behind you as you were ordering at the bar and tapped you on the shoulder.

“See, I told you it was her,” the shorter one, a strawberry blonde with severe bangs whispered excitedly to her friend, a taller brunette.

Before you could ask either of them exactly what they wanted, the strawberry blonde spoke again, “Can we have your autograph?”

You could only nod dumbly as they handed you a cocktail napkin and a pen. You tried to think of something meaningful to write, but in your shock, could only come up with “Best wishes, xoxo”. You didn’t even ask them their names. The best you could do was offer to buy them a drink, which they happily accepted.

You regretted the offer as soon as you registered how young they looked underneath all that makeup, an observation that made you unsettlingly sad. You were reminded of your first days on the Strip: lonely and young and wanting someone to notice you for the right reasons.

Your thoughts became too heavy to deal with at that particular moment and you abruptly excused yourself, leaving the two confused girls behind. A shame, you thought to yourself, in another life you might’ve all been friends, but no one really wants to be your friend these days. They just want to tell people they’re your friends. Walking away saves everyone the disappointment.

You needed a drink.

By the time the main act had taken the stage, your vision had started to haze at the edges as a result of the multiple drinks you had procured for yourself. You watched, half-interested as a band you’d never heard of, Corroded Coffin took the stage, your eyes tracing after each member, eyeing the things only a fellow musician would: the models of equipment they had, the way the band queued each other up.

You didn't know enough about metal yet to know whether you'd consider yourself a fan or not but even with the little familiarity you have, you can tell this band is good. Their playing is unpolished but overflowing with energy and the crowd is feeding into it, screaming the lyrics along with the lead singer.

All of it reminds you of your first show at the Strip—what seemed ages ago—and that memory summons a whole other thought entirely: the reason that you had gotten into music was to actually make music you liked, not to be a topic of discussion in a gossip magazine, getting no say in the music you created.

You don't even remember the last time you had even written a lyric.

You think to yourself that maybe you should wander backstage after the show, like you once did and talk to the band. Maybe you could pick their brains about songwriting. They clearly didn’t care about mass appeal if they were making metal music which means they were probably doing it for the art.

At the very least they probably had a decent stash of pills.

Either way, it would be worth it.

***

EDDIE: It was pretty much love, at first sight, the moment I saw her in the crowd that night at Whiskey a Go Go. I remember seeing her for the first time halfway through our set and it was like I went blind for a moment. I had completely forgotten what I was doing, I think I even missed a cue. After the show, I made a beeline for the bar where she was standing, trying to act as cool as I could but I was shitting it.

***

Once that band had wrapped up, you made your way to the dressing rooms. You maneuvered to the dressing rooms like you had dozens of times before, but the band wasn’t there.

You milled about for a bit, before growing bored and leaving wondering if maybe they had seen you coming and left.

***

EDDIE: I ordered a drink just as an excuse to get closer and it worked. She was even more beautiful up close and so, so kind. Told me she loved our show and even pointed out specific guitar solos of mine that she liked. She always had a way of making you feel special like that. Chrissy Fucking Cunningham. Even her name was perfect, not a syllable too few or too many.

I asked her for her number that night and we went on a date two days later, I could hardly keep it.

together having to wait two days to see her again. Then, after a few weeks, we were going steady, as the kids say. It was perfect. I never really had anyone to myself, you know? She was the first person that ever made me feel seen and cared about.

I remember one time; she was hanging out at my place while the band was in the studio. When I came back, she had done all my laundry. When I asked her why she had done that, she just said “I dunno, just because” then, all of a sudden there were tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something like that for me “just because".

My life had never been better--so of course, I fucked it up.

***

While you did not manage to meet Corroded Coffin, you couldn’t stop thinking about them, even days later. It was like seeing them play had awoken you from a daze you didn’t even know you had been in.

You spend a few days getting incredibly drunk by the pool after that. But no matter how much you drank or how many pretty dresses you bought yourself or how many pill you took, you could not shake the feeling.

A few mornings later, you had called Murray, “This stops now, Murray. No more duets or features or whatever else. I want to meet with Brenner. I want to do this my way.”

Murray, not used to being awake so early, gave a weak attempt at talking you down.

“No,” you urged on, “you said once I started making money, I could have a say. Well, now I’m making money and I’m tired of Starcourt just using me for that. So, I want something permanent and I want to write my own music, got it?”

“You have a contract,” Murray parroted back, half-heartedly.

“Yes, I do, and I plan to honor that contract but so help me God I will make life a living hell for you and for Brenner and any other exec that tries to get me to do another duet with Jason fucking Carver. In fact, I will find a way to lose Starcourt money if you don’t get me out of this. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Great, I’ll see you at lunch Murray.”

He signed, “See you then.”

***

EDDIE: My drug use was getting more out of hand. Chrissy hated it, but I couldn't bring myself to quit. Especially the things that I thought I needed to make it through the day.

Chrissy was a saint throughout the whole thing, until one night when she caught me in the dressing room of Whiskey with a girl who was not her. She walked away and I don’t really blame her. Out of all the regrets of my life—and trust me, kid—that was one of the biggest.

She moved out that day and refused to take my calls, moved in with one of her friends and I spent days just calling her, sending her flowers, the works.

She told me she wouldn’t budge unless I got clean. So, I checked myself into rehab. She was a good enough reason to quit. 45 days later, I checked out, clean as a motherfucking whistle.

Chrissy was gone though, I had no clue where she had disappeared to, but wherever she went, she didn’t want me to find her.

On top of that, my band was fucking pissed. I left the band for 45 days without telling anyone, right as we were finishing recording our debut album. Yeah, they weren’t happy. I was in something called “breach of contract” with the suits over at record label and they wanted to take me to court, and not the Star kind.

I definitely didn’t have lawsuit type of money back then, so it was in my best interest to work something out with Starcourt and jump back on fulfilling my contract. Problem was, Corroded Coffin didn’t want me back anymore, even though the guy they replaced me with wasn’t half as good as I was.

I thought that because my old band didn’t want me, that meant that I would be free of my contract. I was wrong. What actually happened was that my fate was then put into Starcourt’s hands and they could place me in whatever podunk production or band they wanted. They owned my ass.

And that’s how I ended up with The Downsides.

PLAY NEXT TRACK

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Eddie Munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #steve harrington #rockstar!eddie Munson #past!eddie x chrissy #nancy wheeler x jonathan byers

[stevesbipanic]

By the time Eddie had healed from his injuries he'd missed the window to graduate on time. However, due to his medical emergencies he was allowed to finish his senior year over summer school. As long as he passed he wouldn't need to repeat.

Everyone in the party was determined to help him pass.

Nancy of course tried the same approach she did with everything, structured and colour coded. Eddie did not do well with this and often felt overwhelmed by her efforts, everything felt like too much to learn.

Robin, a more inconveniental learner like Eddie told him that the thing that helped her study was music. Eddie tried this but would get to into the music he liked and too bored or annoyed with the music he didn't, both too big of a distraction to focus on his notes.

The kids being certified geniuses tried explaining things to him, but they'd go on tangents and get distracted themselves related Eddie's topics to their own interests and expertise.

By the summer, Steve and Eddie were together after pining through Eddie's hospital days. Steve jokingly suggested strip flash cards. To their credit Eddie learnt a little bit but was eventually too distracted to study for too long.

Jonathan and Argyle knew they wouldn't be much help and so helped him relax when it was all becoming too stressful with some relaxing smoke sessions.

In the end, Eddie was the one to figure out how to motivate himself. Well, kinda, he more inspired Steve's solution. Steve and Eddie had been making out on Eddie's couch when brilliance struck.

"Are you going to be a good boy for me, Stevie?"

"Oh my god, I know how to motivate you!"

"Baby we tried the strip flash cards, unfortunately your chest is far too distracting."

"No, not the strip cards, just go get your notes, trust me."

"Um, we were in the middle of something but fine."

Eddie went and got his stack of mismatched notes from everyone's study sessions and sat down at the dining table.

"Ok what's your plan, sweetheart?"

"Just do one of your problems."

Eddie worked through one of the maths problems and showed Steve once he was done.

"Correct, Eds. Here's your reward."

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a sticker that said "You're a rockstar!". Steve had been working as a part time daycare teacher since Family Video got destroyed and his kids loved stickers.

"I'm a rockstar?"

"Yep, and you'll get more for every question you get right."

By the end of the night, Eddie was covered in bright stickers, happy to have such a perfect boyfriend.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things season 4 #the party #daycare teacher steve #ficlet #steddie ficlet

[soulwillower]

rude boy [remastered] • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

hi i've decided to start off my remastered series with a reader fav :) hope yall like it! this one is much more dirty ig, so lmk if thats smth yall wannt more of.

requested: hii💕 could u do a richie smut where he kinda hates her and so does she…but the sex is good lol? i got inspired by rude boy by rihanna haha

+ @kennafild Ohhhh pleeeese, Rude Boy (Richie Tozier) 💖💖💖 it’s my favorite

warning: swearing, dirty talk, light choking, use of bitch + slut, semi-public sex, slight voyeur themes, unprotected hate sex, they are not fucking nice to each other, reader slaps richie and it awakens somethin in BOTH of them, unedited

[losers + reader are aged up to college, 20+ in this.]

remastered version: 2.8k.

♡

it's quiet as you wipe around the coffee machine, the orange light still on under the buzzing bright fluorescents. you make a note to yourself to turn it off when your manager leaves.

you sigh as the last customer walks out the front doors of the diner, a small receipt lingering where she'd sat for hours, making googly eyes across the bar counter, playing with the stupid straw of her shake. walking over, you don't even have to look at it to know there's a number scribbled on it with most likely a name, probably a heart. your stomach recoils in disgust, snatching up the paper and shoving it in the waistband of your skirt, figuring the trash was already taken out for the night.

your boss walks over to where you stand at the counter, wiping it off with a rag. “she's finally gone?” she asks and you nod, rolling your eyes. your manager chuckles with a shrug , "kid is a menace, but he sure brings in a lot of service."

it makes you huff; it gets on your nerves , but you know she's right. sadly, that menace is the very reason your tips are so high. she pulls a sweater over the uniform, sounding exhausted,  "right, well i’m gonna head out. can you and richie lock up?” she asks as you resist the urge to gag at the name of your coworker, but you nod nonetheless. “yeah, of course.”

she leaves a few minutes later and you pull at the collar of your stupid, synthetic retro diner uniform. it’s red and black and awfully cheesy.  employees are allowed to choose between a matching red skirt or black slacks - it’s an old school kitschy diner on the outskirts of derry that pays shitty. but a summer job is a summer job, and the tips weren’t awful so you can't really complain.

but the worst thing by far about working at the diner came in the form of a 6'2 nightmare with a sharp jawline and a serious nicotine addiction. richie fucking tozier.

he’s been a server here the longest and you were seen, to his chagrin, as the most responsible, so you two were trusted to close the diner together most nights. didn’t mean you got along though, not at all. he was loud, obnoxious, a slacker, and a scrawny, phony asshole. you’ve never liked him and he’s never liked you, and that's just the way it is. he is the worst part of every summer and winter break, and you can only be thankful that you never went to derry high. 

there were some pretty decent people on staff, thankfully. you liked your manager, and you like mike, who worked dish, and many of the servers were more than tolerable. but richie fucking tozier.

during shifts, richie always played music on the jukebox and serenaded loudly to every boy and girl who stepped foot in the diner as they sat at the counter and swooned. he barely did his work and got way too generous of tips - you know it’s solely because of his looks, because he is an awful server and an even worse human. but he has curly, fluffy dark hair, freckles, and a face sculpted by aphrodite. he always smelled like cologne and cigarettes, always had his shirt unbuttoned way lower than necessary, and walked with a stupid bounce in his step that some people saw as charm.

as you finish mopping up the dining area, you hear footsteps and your eyes catch richie’s beat up, lyric-scribbled red high tops. “richie! i just mopped there!” you yelp at him as you snap your head up to stare at him in anger. he just shrugs, “you missed a few spots anyways.” he says through a mouth full of chocolate milkshake.

you fight the urge to slap the glass out of his hand, “could you stack the chairs?” you ask him, trying to stay civil. last time you and richie locked up together, you'd argued so bad that he’d thrown a glass and shattered it. you’d both gotten in huge trouble.

“why can’t you?” he asks, his voice awfully teasing. you glare at him as you sit down, throwing the mop as it hits his chest. he catches it against him, the handle making a clacking noise when it hits the star of david chain on his bare chest. you scoff, why did he have to wear his uniform unbuttoned like that?

“fine, i’ll stack the chairs. you mop.” you grumble, getting up to lift the chairs. you hear a screeching noise but you refuse to look, knowing he’s sitting down and that would just fuel your fire. as you lean over one of the booths, something makes your head turn and you see richie just in time for him to snap his eyes away. your eyes widen - he was just checking you out. god damn these fucking skirts. “what are you looking at, tozier?” you spit venomously. as much as you don’t want to admit it, there was something really hot about the way he was staring.

“shut up.” he grumbles, getting up and locking the doors before walking back into the break room. once you finish out in the dining area, you walk towards the back to see him checking over the kitchen. “hey, did mike take out the trash before he clock-”

“yes, of course he did, y/n.” richie cuts you off. you cross your arms, “i’m just trying to get our job done! christ, richie, you make me so fucking mad.” you spit. he turns to look at you, his eyes bold and his cheeks splattered with pink and freckles. “i hate that i have to fucking deal with you. i should fire you.” he hisses, turning off the dishwasher and walking over to the front counter. you're hot on his heels.

“that's rich. you’re a fucking nightmare to work with! and you’re not my fucking boss!” you yell, glaring at him.  "well the chart begs to fucking differ.“ he spits, a chipped black fingernail pointing to where the employee chart lists your names, him being slightly higher than yours because of experience. you think briefly you might deck him in the face.  "we’re payed the same, you fucking bonehead!” you all but yell, stepping up to him. “and i do so much more work than you! all you do is flirt with everyone until they take pity on you and give you a tip.”

you expect him to scream back at you, but instead he looks extremely pissed while taking a step closer. “do you know how fucking jealous you sound right now, y/n?” he hisses. something makes you turn bright red in the face, but you scoff at the absurd accusation. “jealous? of who?” you all but yell, your arms flying up. it’s only now that you notice that he has you with your knees against the break table.

“of all the people i fuck.” he says, his voice calm but sinister and dangerous. you scoff again, “i hate you.” you say, leaning towards him. something about the way he looks makes you want to hit him as hard as you can but also shove him against the wall and make out with him. he chuckles as if something about what you said was funny, “i don’t hear you denying it, princess.”

you roll your eyes, turning to wipe the counter and hide your flushed face. "you're so immature. it's just not professional." 

he scoffs, converses crossing as he leans back against the dessert case, "professional? I've seen you light a cig on the burners in the back. I've seen you eat food off a customer's old plate!" he hisses, tossing the rag he was using on the floor. narrowing your eyes, you turn, "you do that shit too! everyone does." 

he rolls his doe eyes, shaking his head until something on you catches his eye. reaching quickly, he grabs the receipt from your waistband, your reaction too slow as he lifts it high above your heads, far out of reach. "richie," you protest, annoyed. maybe flustered. 

his smile is bright and teasing, "what's this, y/n?" he murmurs, reading it as he holds it up to the light. you brush hair from your face, flustered as he raises a brow, "is this your-" he looks at you, "is this your number? you were going to give me your number?" he's astounded. you panic, "no, it's - it's from- its trash." you argue. he stares at you, disbelieving. "you have the hots for me or somethin' toots? that's so cute." he's smirking.  "you know that's not true." you hiss.

"listen, i know i csn be intimidating, but if you maybe just tried a smile, y-" but angrier than ever, you shove him back in aggravation before he can finish. he stumbles back from your force, hands falling back to steady himself. "FUCK," he yells, hand shooting back up to his lips. "y/n! why isn't the coffee machine off?" he yells. you blink, huffing, "I was going to turn it off, but someone decided to be a fucking pain in the ass!" you counter. 

"well what, were you just schlepping around out here while I was closing?!" he hisses. you want to scream, "you know what? you're a fucking asshole. you can close yourself." you smile, sickeningly sweet as you lay a sarcastic hand on his arm. patting it, you move to shove past him.

his fingers are tight as he stops you, wide, angry eyes staring you down. he pulls you eye level, leaning down to you. "you're not leaving me, sweetheart." he sneers. you glare, "you can't stop me. why don't you call your girlfriend for company?" you sneer back. ripping your arm away, you turn around and hear a mutter under his breath, "jealous bitch." 

without thinking, you turn around and smack his cheek so hard it echoes in the empty diner. it's quiet for a moment, his cheek bright red and blossoming. your hand stings.

"oy vey," he whispers, large hand holding his jaw before he smirks, shrugging it off. his tongue runs over his teeth and you bite your lower lip to hide your sudden arousal. he nods curtly, laughing gently to himself in disbelief. 

"well, that was actually kind of hot, princess." he mutters, and for some reason that’s it. the princess, that’s all it takes for you to smash your lips against his forcefully.

it’s a kiss that it so rough it’s almost violent; fueled by hatred and adrenaline and something akin to attraction. it happens so quick, you're almost dizzy. he’s pushing your hips harshly into the counter behind you so that you’re sitting up on it, him immediately stepping between your legs. your hands are on his neck and they thread into his hair as your teeth clash and noses hit each other. you hated him so fucking much.

his hands move up so he’s grabbing your bare thigh with one hand, metal cool against your heated flesh and digging in. the other hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him, causing your stomach to flutter with desire. you pull away and immediately attach your lips to the column of his neck, not wanting to have to look at his awful, handsome, heart-stopping face. 

he ruts up against you and you feel the outline of his cock, making you moan against his neck. his hand slides up and under the hem of your skirt, squeezing your hip as you suck a bruise into his throat hard, teeth biting his flesh. he pulls away from you quickly, looking at you with fury. his hand grasps your neck, taking you by surprise and coaxing a moan from your lips before kissing you again.

 it knocks the wind out of you with his force but you quickly recover, dragging your hands down his chest and tracing his bulge with your fingertips. he grunts as he pulls away and looks at you. his eyes bore in to you, his lips swollen.

"you want me so bad," he smirk, "that you'll let me fuck you right here in the diner? anybody could see." he whispers in your ear, fingers softly toying with your throbbing pussy through the your underwear. 

you’re gasping but you recover your breath and shoot him a glare. “well? are you gonna fuck me or are you just going to stare at me like a goddamn airhead?” you spit. he glares at you and pulls you up by your shoulders, spinning you and bending you by the waist so your face is pressed against the cool of the counter.

“oh yeah, this is much better.” he replies snarkily as he pulls your skirt up and grinds against your ass. "so pretty without your fucking attitude." you moan quietly and you hear him undoing his belt buckle. you’re aching and you can feel excitement bubbling in your stomach, wiggling your hips slightly in need.

what you don’t expect is a harsh smack to land on your ass, making you gasp in arousal. his hands squeeze your ass and you look back to see him pumping himself, sliding your panties down your legs. your eyes widen slightly, noticing how big he is, but you groan in impatience, “can you hurry up already?” you spit.

he glares at you and shakes his head . "you're fucking pathetic. just begging to be fucked in this skirt, aren't you?" 

through your ecstacy you hum, "pathetic?" you gasp, "cute coming from you, richie. you're basically dreaming about fucking me every day. don't think I don't see you look at me." his cheeks redden as you turn back to smirk at him. his hand snacks your ass forcefully, pulling another satisfying moan to fall from your mouth. "for such a dick, I'm surprised you could even get it up. good boy." you smirk. his face contorts, jaw clenching.

brows furrowed in anger, he thrusts in all at once, making you moan so loud it burns your throat; he fills you up perfectly and you drop your head to rest on the counter as he starts to thrust. 

he’s not forgiving; he fucks into you hard and deep and you have to bite your hand to keep from moaning his name in pleasure. you wouldn't be caught dead moaning his name . you’d never hear the end of it. his hands grip your hips so tightly you know there’ll be marks tomorrow and he’s muttering swear words quietly, adding to the wetness between your legs.

 he’s hitting the perfect spot inside you and one glance behind you shows his face just as contorted in pleasure as yours is. you hate to admit it, but he’s fucking hot and the expression is perfect on him.

he’s fucking you into the front counter, your sight falling to the diner windows across from you. he pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts you can’t help but whimper his name. you can hear his smirk in his voice, even when your eyes are clenched shut. “sorry, princess, I didn't hear that.”

you groan, half in pleasure and half because you hate how good he’s making you feel. “i fucking hate you s-so much, tozier.” you say, trying to stop your moans but failing miserably. his hips are snapping into yours and you clench around him, knowing you’re about to cum embarrassingly fast.

he hums at your words tauntingly, “say anything you want, slut. but i know it's been five minutes and you’re about to cum on my cock.” he mutters the words and you moan again, your toes curling in pleasure. he thrusts deeper into you and you let out a strangled scream as you hit your peak. your fingers grasp on the edge of the counter as richie plows through your high, chasing his own.

you start to whimper, feeling overly sensitive. he chuckles darkly, “so good. you’re fine.” he mutters, his hands squeezing your ass. he thrusts a few more times before his hips stutter and he finishes inside you with a low moan. his chest is pressed on your back and you can’t seem to catch your breath, feeling limp and extremely pleasured. your legs shake.

holy shit.

he pulls out of you, making you whimper at the sensation and he pulls up your panties, rubbing the seat of your clothed core with his thumb. the stimulation makes you jolt as he pulls your skirt down. you wait, not sure what to say, but richie doesn't waste one moment.

“fuck you.” he whispers in your ear and then he gets up, pulls his pants up, and walks towards the breakroom.

you stand up, to save the last bit of dignity you have, listening to him in the other room grab his keys and jacket, and leave eventually.

 you stand there with the now burned old coffee, breathing heavily, unsure what the fuck just happened but knowing you loved it way too much.

.

tag list.  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozierr  @sft-core    @daughter-of-the-stars11  @oceandog13    @upamongthestars @fiantomartell @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @loverloserr @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffew @etaerealboyv @itlover8000

#richie tozier x reader #jewish richie tozier #richie tozier smut #losers club x reader #losers club smut #soulwillower remastered series

[ivy-diaries]

‎ ⁎ ‎ ‎ 𓍼 ‎ ‎ ๋ ‎ ◜ &.&. THE IVY INCIDENT ep 1. ◞ ‎ ... ‎ ‎

The intro plays, and Ivy appears on the screen smiling and leaning into the mic to speak. “Hello guys, welcome to my new podcast, 'The Ivy Incident!!’ This has been in the works ever since I stepped into the dive podcast studio when I came here to film the kpop daebak show with Eric so it's soo exciting to finally show you guys this project!” she laughs as the other staff there are heard clapping.

Laughing, she continues "so in this podcast, I invite my friends from the industry and we just you know, talk and share stories! It's a lot similar to Eric's but mine is more personal if you will because all these people are very very close to me and I've known them for a pretty long time! This episode is just gonna be me cuz this is like an introduction for all the first-time listeners who don't know who I am!" “So I heard Diane has some questions prepared for me, so let's get into it!” 

“let's start with the basics, yeah? Who is Ivy Jennifer James?” Diane asks her. 

“Oh we’re going back to the beginning okay! So as you’ve already mentioned, my name is ivy jennifer james. I was born in New Castle, Australia where I lived till I was five and then I moved to the US where again I lived for five years before moving to Korea when I was eleven. And in korea, i signed with bighit entertainment and when i was asked if i was ready to debut when i was 14 i think? I was like imma do it. So i debuted at 14 under both jype and bighit and the rest is history! And i'm here today hehe”

“What motivated you to pursue a career as a solo artist?”

“Hmm i think ever since i got into bighit, i've always wanted to be a soloist? I'm not really sure why but I always saw myself as a soloist for some reason. Even till now, if you ask my dad he’d say that i was born to do this” ivy laughs and continues “i think ever since i was little ive wanted to something in the field of music and performance”

“Was being a kpop idol your first choice?”

“It was actually! I mean keeping in mind that i started this since i was a literal child, it actually was my first choice. The kids at school did tease me for this but look at me now” ivy chuckles

“Who are your music inspirations?”

“That's a great question and I was literally talking to Jun about this this morning! I dont have one specific inspiration but i think i draw inspiration from any and all artists! I've been pretty inspired by the Beatles and Rolling Stone pretty recently and obviously, Taylor Swift is one of my biggest inspirations out there.” 

“Are you a sweet or savory type of person?”

“It honestly depends on my mood if i'm being honest” she laughs hard “now, im craving something savory! I'd kill for some fries right now oh man you’ve perked up my cravings now diane!!”

“What's the last song you listened to?”

Ivy laughs hard and almost tears up laughing “this is actually so funny oh my god the last song i listened to is actually a helium ingested cover of let me love you by justin bieber which yeonjun sung for me yesterday after a party we went to and let me tell you, it was soo funny!!”

“According to you, tell me 3 flaws and 3 qualities about yourself”

“Ooh, three qualities of mine would be, one, I think I'm kind I guess? Second, I'm somewhat responsible, and third and finally, I think I'm a human sized golden retriever because I'm very bubbly and very smiley smiley most of the time! And three flaws of mine are, one, i’m a big overthinker, i just rethink about every single choice or word of mine a little too much. Second, my moods are based on the weather…”

Ivy laughs at the look on Diane's face “yea.. My mood everyday kinda depends on how good the weather is.. That's why I'm not as fond of the rain because it makes me kind of depressed and I just shut myself off most of the time. Third, im a bit of a perfectionist so i expect any and all things to be a little too perfect.. If its not what i expect it to be, i just leave that and will not ever touch on it again and i know i should change these things and i am trying so.. yeah “

“okay, something similar but three things you like and three things you dislike”

 “I don't like these types of questions!!” she laughs “it makes me think too much to give an answer!! But anyways… hmm three things i like are, one, my husband” she giggles as a small blush is seen on her cheek “well it's true!! I wouldn't have married him if I didn't like him would I?” she giggles “second, i really love what i do so, my career and third, my loved ones! I love my friends and family because they've stuck with me through thick and thin and I'm really grateful for that!” she smiles and gives the camera a little hand heart

“three things i hate are.. Hmm lets see… one, people who do not value privacy. I've said this multiple times and i'll say this again but I do love my fans.. I love them a lot and I wouldn't be here without them. But there are some people who claim that they are fans but do unhinged stuff to get close to me. And like that's why I've sued some people for not valuing my privacy. I got hate for it but honestly I don't care when the privacy and the lives of the people i love are at stake."

"Second, coming back to a slightly normal side, I absolutely hate the smell of fish. I don't know if it's cuz im vegetarian but I always throw up whenever I smell it and third, coming back to a more serious side, I hate the fact that most people on the internet feel like it's their right to comment on us as celebrities or idols or as performers. It's so irritating that they don't even feel sorry for what they say. They don't know how much we over think it and it slowly becomes an insecurity that takes years to wear off.”

“Okay this is your second to last question and the question is, For listeners who may not have heard your music before, can you recommend a few songs that best represent your sound and artistic vision?”

“That is a really good question, oh my god! So I think my discography is quite diverse and I have a lot of songs for different kinds of people who like different things. So the top three songs that i’d recommend to people are, one, vengeance as its called. There's no explanation for that song but I loved making it and loved singing it so that's the first song and second, I have a song called lovers in the night  that i co wrote with seori which I absolutely loved and we had a great time writing the song. And third I think is, my whole album called “for us.”  which i wrote with yeonjun and its songs dedicated for each other and hence called for us!”

“Okay… last question, can you give us any hints of the upcoming guests you have here?” Diane asks, smiling knowingly. Ivy giggles and wiggles her fingers across the camera

“Well I guess I can.. But most of my friends have not given me exact dates of their free schedule so even i’m not really sure on whos coming” she laughs at herself “so that's all i can tell you now because that's just all i know so” she just shrugs as she smiles.

“That's it for this episode and I hope you guys enjoyed this. I'm so excited for all the things we have in store for you guys and I hope you look forward to it!! So this has been ivy so far and thank you for listening to the ivy incident! Have a good day or good night bye!!”

⋆ ivy taglist ˒ @stealanity @alixnsuperstxr @riikiblr @skz-libby @escapetheash (lmk if u wanna be added or removed)

⋆ priya says ˒ so this is not proofread so read at ur own risk lol <33 but if you've come this far,, please reblog with the bow emoji (🎀) so I know that readers are interactive and writers get the credit they deserve!! so lmk who you want to see on ivys podcast and any feedback tbh!! Happy reading!!

#‎ ‎ ⋆⠀⠀ʬ.ʬ.⠀⠀٬⠀⠀(⠀⠀&.⠀⠀)⠀...⠀podc. #huh yunjin #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop oc #kpop soloist #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin fluff #yunjin huh #jennifer huh #choi yeonjun x reader #huh yunjin x you #fictional idol oc #fictional idol community #fictional kpop oc #fictional idol group #fictional kpop community #kpopidol #kpop fanfic #kpop girls #kpop icons #kpop #kpop incorrect quotes #kpop moodboard #kpop layouts #kpop gg #kpop podcast

[90s-2000s-barbie]

hi!! I love your room - can you tell me what's the story of it? did it take a long time to put together or is it actually from childhood? ty!

Hi! Thank you very much! Glad u like it. Great questions actually. Well I’ve been a collector basically since I was a kid cause I kept a lot of childhood favorites throughout the years but started thrift in 2009 my freshman year in high school. So at first me and my sister shared that green room when we were super little (it was baby pink at the time) then when we got a little older, my parents gave me this smaller room, and my sister got our old jointed room.

I’ve always been an angst music girl and kept my toys and collection around random places or packed away. Well when my sister moved out of my parents. I got her old room, that iconic room you all have seen. As I always loved my toys and childhood and yeah, I love Metallica and I love the Backstreet Boys too! I just was always super self conscious about it. Finally one day, I just said fuck it! I like whatever I like and I don’t care. I packed all my band merch away and decided to do what I wanted to do is when I did a whole redecoration of both rooms. I did this in 2016. It was the height of my Tumblr famous 90s2000sgirl Blog. Before I deleted all my content everywhere and went on a short hiatus. Those photos It’s definitely not from childhood though people get confused a lot and think it is.

The inspiration was not only just my childhood and collections but how I DREAMED of me and my sisters joint room back when we were small and shared this room together how we would have wanted it. Like how would these little girls wanted this room but thought it was impossible. lol so my parents made me keep the 2 beds and at first I was irritated but then I kinda used it to my advantage cause I had soo many cool Bedding stuffed animals and our old Canopy. Also my best friend use to stay the night all the time so really it ended up coming in handy anyways so that’s why I had the 2 beds. I hated it at the time but they wanted them after I moved out. lol I use to get questions about it all the time but that’s why.

I have a room tour on my youtube channel From that same time I did the redecorating. I use to get lots of questions about a room tour so I did a cheesy video on close ups telling where I got some of my stuff and how much I paid. Though I decorated in 2016, everything is from 90s-2000s. It took me quite a few hours to put everything up but I had it all up within one day but sometimes when I’d look at the shelves, I’d watch tv and move a few pieces around. Sometimes things look fine till ur really sitting there looking back and it looks goofy. lol another thing about my room, I had a lot more stuff too! Even posters I’d swap toys and posters out all the time! My rooms were always changing. No one would hardly notice but I just have so much and not much space. Though I loved this room, I will admit it’s so nice to be in a full house now. I just don’t share photos anymore.

Thanks so much for the ask! hope you have a beautiful day! 🩷😄

[camp-vamps-radio-b1tch]

Gonna make headcannons for my favorite characters because WHY NOT! >o<

Alejandro

He was born in Spain and lived there for about 5 years before moving to Canada

He has a 3 year age gap with José (he’s 19) and a 9 year age gap with Carlos (he’s 25)

Alejandro gets mad easily if he’s annoyed because of José. When he was younger If kids at school annoyed him he would express their anger, but soon he realized that kids didn’t like that about him, so when he moved he just got silently upset and would just ignore them if he got angry at them.

When Alejandro was 10, Carlos turned 19 and moved out to go pursue his soccer career

Since Spain Schools are so much different from Canadian schools (I mean in Spain the get to go home to eat lunch) Alejandro didn’t like the schools in Canada (he’s used to the schedule now)

Alejandro likes to put eyeliner on (sometimes mascara) and he has like this whole skin routine too

Alejandro straightens his hair almost every day, but when it gets wet it curls up. (His hair is more wavy then curly though)

Obviously he likes Carlos more than José. And since José never really liked him, Alejandro wanted to make sure that Carlos liked him. So whenever he did something that would upset Carlos, Alejandro got really upset at himself

Alejandro speaks Spanish to his parents most of the time, but talks to his brothers in English.

José beats Alejandro in pretty much everything, so he hates when he loses to other people. When he was younger he would get upset and almost cry, but now he just gets mad.

Alejandro listens to a good amount of Spanish music. Idk who he listens to exactly (despite me being Latina lol) but I feel like he’s listen to Selena

Alejandro doesn’t have many genuine friends. He’s using them all in some way. But he gets closer to Tyler and Lindsay. They annoy him sometimes but he starts to actually enjoy their company

Duncan

Duncan said he has brothers at one point in the show (so I gave him two) Duncan is the middle child. He has a decently big age gaps between his brothers too (idk how many years exactly but yeah)

His older brother (Dexter) was what inspired Duncan’s punk fashion and demeanor.

Dexter was a troublemaker as well, which influenced Duncan. When Dexter realized that he toned down what he did more, because he didn’t want Duncan to go too far down this rabbit hole of like crime and stuff (it didn’t work. Duncan is like worse actually)

Duncan is a major dog person. He loved his dog and cried when he ran away (he like never cried as a kid)

He got Scruffy when he was 13

Pretty much his whole family is disappointed in him (and Dexter) because of how much they act up.

The whole family went crazy when Duncan got sent to Juvie

Duncan knows that most of his family doesn’t like him, and that his dad doesn’t like him that much either.

His dad actually favors his younger brother (haven’t decided on a name yet) because he a good kid and doesn’t cause trouble and Duncan sees that. He doesn’t hold a grudge against his brother though because he understands why.

He loves giving nicknames to people (especially people he likes)

Probably a Mama’s boy

He collects lighters, and when they run out of fluid he puts them in a drawer. He has like a shit ton.

I’m a Duncan smokes kinda gal

Duncan steals clothes like a lot because he doesn’t have any money lmao

Physically he’s pretty weak. I mean he can throw a punch but can’t take one

He wears those over the ear headphones and covers them in stickers

DJ and Geoff are his best friends, but Duncan never pressures DJ into anything too crazy because he knows that DJ isn’t like him when it comes to crazy stuff (whether that be like smoking or vandalism)

He actually really likes hanging out and talking to Gwen. And why he does find her attractive, sometimes he kinda regrets dating her (SORRY I DONT SHIP GWUNCAN)

He doesn’t mind being friends with Zoey because he can drop his tough guy act a bit and she won’t judge (actually he can do that with DJ and Geoff too)

Since I’m a Malcan shipper lol I like to think that Mal and Duncan didn’t talk that much (bc Duncan didn’t recognize him at first in All Stars) but they interacted a few times. They both found the other attractive and kissed like once.

Sometimes he hangs out with Heather. It’s like a like-hate friendship where they genuinely hate each other sometimes but when the time is right they hang out together and have fun

Mal

(I did some research on DID so I hope the fronting stuff his accurate)

He was created by Mike when he was very young, protecting Mike from physical harm and abuse

Since he would front and get exposed to violent acts, he quickly learned how to fight back, which is why he’s so violent

He holds a lot of Mike’s trauma

He does not trust anyone, and he doesn’t care about anyone

Sometimes when Mike stressed about stuff that involved his parents, Mal would front. Usually during that time, Mal would find things to do that were kinda violent

As Mike got older, Mal started getting more violent. Mike didn’t like that

Mal found hurting his abusers very satisfying, so eventually violence in general became fun for him

Not so much Mal, but Mike’s closet is full of all kinds of different clothes for all his alters. Mal’s clothes are more dark and grungey

The reason Mike got sent to jail was for assault. Who he assaulted idk but neither Mike or Mal liked them.

Mal fronted pretty much the entire time in juvie because Mal thought that Mike couldn’t handle some of the people in there, and because Mal had gotten them there in the first place.

Once Mike realized what Mal did in juvie, and everything he did before he pushed Mal into his subconscious as he did not want Mal to front anymore. That made Mal extremely upset but he found himself not being able to front anymore

The reason he’s just straight up evil in All-Stars is because he was concealed for so long and felt that it was unfair and had bottled up anger

All the alters knew that Mike needed to leave his house, so Mal also tried to win the Million for all of them, because no matter what happened, he was created by Mike to protect him. Of course Mal was his own person but that in a way was a part of his purpose

Okay! Yippie! This took like 3 hours to write everything so if you read all this ily <33

I love these little goobers so much GRAAA

I might add things every once in a while based off other peoples headcannons so yeah just thought id say that lol

Maybe if I come up with enough I’ll like reblog this and list some more :3

#total drama #total drama island #total drama world tour #total drama all stars #total drama headcanons #td alejandro #alejandro total drama #alejandro burromuerto #duncan total drama #td duncan #mal total drama #td mal #Alejandro total drama headcannons #Duncan total drama headcannons #mal total drama headcannons #headcanon #idk why this took THREE hours but it did