#sucks the energy right out of ur toes

[urhoneycombwitch]

imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill. 

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days. 

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place. 

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you. 

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite. 

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge. 

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs). 

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue. 

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties. 

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.) 

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course. 

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you. 

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school. 

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before… 

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend. 

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event. 

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room. 

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh. 

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space. 

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts. 

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise. 

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals. 

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily. 

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form. 

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are. 

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda. 

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes. 

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak. 

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet. 

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm. 

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel. 

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.  

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours. 

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here. 

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?” 

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position. 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds. 

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude. 

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him. 

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there. 

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours. 

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone. 

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you. 

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you. 

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside. 

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks. 

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year. 

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in. 

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

[br4tphobia]

twinnem!! give me the top three times ony everrrrrr made his girl squirt!! like…….the top 3 most toe curling body jiggling eye rolling times hes made his boo buss it the FUCK open

AAA hey mama twwinnnn !!!! 🤭🤭 — omg its giving squirt contest ???!?!??! (scold me if this isnt to ur liking . 😞😞😞)

minors dni pls 😭

#1 .. your first time, telling him you never squirted 🤷🏾‍♀️

"are you serious.?" his tone is in disbelief, shocked by your words. "yes onyann!" — "You wanna try it? itll feel good, baby." "fuck it, sure.." next thing you know you find yourself exposed infront of your boyfriend, legs held up as he fingers you. “cmon mama.. you got it..” his voice is hushed in your ears, kissing and sucking on your neck. squirming around his fingers roughly abusing your walls, the pad of his thumb brushing on your clit every few flick of his wrist. he was determined to complete his task, nothing else was on his mind. your whimpers n moans are louder by the second, something overwhelming n heavy coming. the feeling of your pussy getting wetter and fluttering around his fingers, your body gets weaker, not being able to hold your legs up like onyan had warned you. slowly lowering your legs, his lips leave yours with his other hand wrapped on your neck, “hold em, baby.” he warns you with a light squeeze. — “f-fuck im sorry papa..!” more and more aching thrusts to your poor pussy that overwhelming feeling approaching you again, knowing what you hopefully thought was gonna happen “papa..papaa!” gripping on his biceps when you finally break. “there you go mama, doesnt that feel good?” cooing in your ear with a couple slaps to your wet cunt blocking your juices splashing on his abdomen a few times. “yes.. oh my god..” “told you.”

#2 ony punishing you for actin out 🤭

“lost that attitude.” his tone is warningly, swiping n typing whatever on his phone. “shut up talkin to me. pissin me the fuck off..” — “bet” you smack your lips with a roll to your eyes. “youre going to do..?” waiting for a response from the man paying no attention to you, all was heard was pure silence which was loud. “just keep that same energy.” meanwhile… “shittt .. im sorry papa!” your voice cracks at his mean pace — “shut that shit up mama.” your head was pushed into the mattress, your pussy aches fro m multiple orgasms in a row but it feels so good, face down your ass up, drool seeping out the corner of your moth, hair being pulled to go deeper in your guts, clawing at the sheets, not being able to do anything but curse n moan while he destroy yo shit. a harsh slap goes to your ass, ripples displaying from constantly being pushed back into his lower abdomen. due to loss of balance you lean off the bed a bit, “aht, where you goin?” — “nowhere baby, oh my godd” whining at his words, regretting your actions. he grabs you by your next to hold you in place, more and more fast, harsh stinging strokes piercing your insides he triggers that one spot. “slow down oya— fuuck!” silent screams leaving you breathless as you gush all over his dick, his pelvis glistening from your liquified orgasm. “mhm~..shit..” stroking you deep to spark more out of you. “might js forgive you for that..but you can give me one more, right?” “wait baby fuck.. shitshitshit” another slap to your ass, cursing n whining at the pleasurable pain. “i asked you a question, answer.” “yes! i can papa..” “thats what i like to hear.”

#3 a lil intimate moment with ony pounding up into you while u ridin 😋

“just like that mama..fuck you ride this dick so good..” moaning n groaning all up in eachothers ear, his hands gripping on you ass with your arms wrapped around his neck. your breasts bouncing beautifully in his face, taking one into his mouth. your nipple leaving the warm wetness soon with the pressure put on your back. his arms wrapped around your waist causing your breath to hitch,, “relax..let papa feel on his pretty girl, yeah?” “mm.. kay.” mumbled through you being lost in the pleasure. onyan tightens his arms around you and starts bucking his hips up, “baby! mphh!” burying your face in the crook of his neck to lower your pornographic sounds, “let me hear you, princess.” the instinct to lift your head up just like he asked took over, your loud moans filling his ears. “papa im gonna—“ cut off my your explosive orgasm. still being fucked through it roughly, dripping onto the silk sheets on the mattress, covering the both of you in your own juices. “makin’ a mess for me?” “m’sorry baby…” , “nono it ain nothing new, so why apologize?” “boy..”

#˗ˏˋ꒰ val you got a message ! 🫂 ꒱ #onyankopon #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankapon #onyankopon smut #attack on titan #snk smut #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #﹕🪽・vals drabbles ! ・✩ #⟢﹒💙﹕mama twin val !

[princessbrunette]

boxer rafe is making me feral like

i think when you guys first start to have sex, he wants it to be slow and vanilla for you. not that he hates slow and vanilla, but he doesn’t wanna be too harsh and scare you.

then one night, after a bad practice

reader just tells him to take his anger out on her

ughhh ur so real :(( and he literally cannot resist like, it flips a switch in him bc you’re just standing there looking so soft and sweet like his good little housewife, slip dress, silk robe, tits basically falling out of it, basically asking for it. you’ve got that sweet concerned look on your face, gently approaching, painted toes padding across the sleek wooden floor to reach him and cup his face, asking him what happened.

and he’s all banged up, new bruises, some he hasn’t even noticed yet that he’ll be feeling in the morning hard, and he’s still panting— just staring down at you.

“rafe… what do you need?” there’s a seriousness to your tone, that look on your face — the wide eyed one that inhabits you when you really wanna be helpful.

“i dont…i…” he tries to move around you, shaking out his arms. he had so much energy, and nowhere to put it.

“if you need me rafe…” you whisper, and it captures his attention. he swivels, looking at you as if begging you to continue. “if you need me you can use me. anyway you want. just wanna help you. wanna make you feel better.” you sound so shy like you didn’t know him, hands trembly but pupils dilated so wide he didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before.

“yeah?” he breathes, stepping towards you cautiously. he crowds your space and you’re sucking on your bottom lip, needy as ever.

“yeah. take it out on me.”

he thinks he can control himself, maybe he can fuck you like he always does and it’ll calm him down — that’s what he thinks at least when he starts to kiss you. but it’s rafe, and in a matter of seconds you’re pinned to the wall with his tongue down your throat and his big strong hands groping your tits through your silk slip.

“th’s what you want, right? think you’re a big girl now huh — gonna make me feel all better?” he’s manhandling you, speaking between kisses with a tense jaw. this was the rafe you knew was inside. this was the rafe you knew could fuck you like an animal.

#anon #boxer!rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble

[discardpile]

Eat shit Fu Xi, fuck your shepherd's timing.

I'm not your piece of shit halftime show.

Does the piss you provoke help your third eye see better, NIGGER?

Don't feed me your buulshit while keeping me in the dark, nigger.

I would catch less greif and misery from you if I got a dui 24 years ago and was sucking the Baker's dick to pay off the court sentence after I already did my time and paid my dues in jail, nigger.

Go curse your own shit miserable schadenfreude faggot.

You obviously aren't compelling me to compliment you.

Who fucking raised you, insult dependent Nigger.

Whatever time this was posted,

It's now 3 am, "child."

We're you trying to crucify me while I slept, nigger?

(No, you aren't me. meathead. auto-correct/auto-fuck-up nigger)

Were you thinking that attack to the tops of my feet was going to make me "get up" for you, like your fucking impotent dick in your hand trying to force me up and out of bed?

Were you trying to one-up me, dog whisperer?

Too bad nobody sees you crucifyung yourself spelling-bee chump-pee-on.

You look pretty juvenile, foolish, and stupid to me.

At least you've shut the fuck up and gone away now.

Did abusing words out of me "save your soul" NIGGER?

Is it like a "bridge" between earth and the heaven, imbecile?

That you need to piss words out of me, to "save your soul"?

Dumbass.

How many times have you burned that bridge with me before, nigger?

What was that? Nigger? You need to point your heel instead of your toe? Are you a faggot inverted and dropped on your head?

Or just some Mormon retard that prays with your arms folded like a cartoon genie, trying to force entanglement with a parallel dimension of existence so your bullshit immaturity can make ripples in a pond for the sake of your immature will.

Do you think that you're going to entangle with me and that it's going to give you a vessel to cling to, because you know heaven isn't where you are going when you fucking die, sinner.

Mormon Apostate. Locked out of heaven.

Is that a message? Is your right hand a fag, or the left one? Ladies first, nigger. For "confirmation".

I don't see a black person at this time. I see an ignorant Lawless faggot, fallen-from-grace demon that takes other's feelings into consideration, zero% of the Time, NIGGER.

I'd love to have cameras in your home to see what you're doing in real-time, and who you're texting/talking to or lurking over their activity on the internet, hitting refresh on Ur current browser history isp addresses, that satiates your "needs" NIGGER.

Try going to ground someday instead of trying to force an energy transfer to arc like electricity jumping between a spark-plug gap, voodoo retard.

[zevexsii]

Miinsy here! :p, Could you do an Idv request of Joseph, Andrew, And Antonio ( separately ) have a very curvy/thicc fem! s/o? (sfw & nsfw ( or slight!nsfw if ur too uncomfy with it!))

nsfw is completely fine hun! these might be a bit short, sorry :( i tried to focus on the prompt but then it became more generalized :sob:

andrew, joseph, and antonio with a curvy fem s/o

cut for length and nsfw content!

andrew kreiss (sfw)

hooooo boy. andrew already thinks you’re an angel. he isn’t picky about body types and puts more stock in personality; he has a hard enough time believing people are being genuinely kind to him and actually want him around.

you’re skinnier? great! you’re chubbier? poggers!! you’re somewhere between the two? wonderful! he loves you no matter what and would give you the world, if you weren’t his world already.

cuddle him!! andrew already yearns to be held, but now he’s got the perfect pillow. 

andrew has a lot of suppressed emotions, he never really had the space or tools to deal with the results of the abuse that’s been inflicted upon him his entire life, so he suffers from oddly terrifying nightmares that he can’t quite place. the best method he’s found to combat his night terrors is going to sleep in your arms with his face buried in the safety of your shoulder/upper chest and knowing that you’ll be there to comfort him should he wake with shaking hands and a pounding heart.

if you run your fingers through his hair or rub his back, he’s falling asleep immediately. i don’t make the rules. 

kiss !! his !! forehead !! andrew is super insecure. we been knew. he has firsthand experience with how shitty the world can be, and no matter how much affection you give him in the beginning, doubt will still linger. reassure him that you think he’s perfect. tell him how much he means to you. you wouldn’t want to replace him, right?

whenever andrew gets up normally or one of y’all have a match he does Not want to get up. his exact thought process is “hnnf. wifey soft.”

then he’s fully conscious and blushes for a solid hour afterwards /hj. 

andrew kreiss (nsfw)

andrew is generally touch starved, which could easily slip into hypersexaulization, which just makes him all the more frantic. but not in a horrible way?

well that, and he’s got a hard time controlling the thoughts that run rampant through his brain when you stretch out a certain way or the collar of your top shifts just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the soft skin below.

top him. andrew was unsurprisingly a virgin when he came to the manor and has barely any knowledge of sex, so you’re going to have to go easy on him, too. as he gets more comfortable he might be a soft dom every now and then.

he’s so whiny underneath you; every slight touch makes him whine and subconsciously curl his toes. every bit of loose praise that falls from your lips pushing him closer to the edge. 

andrew clings to you the entire time; you make him feel so safe; wanted. needed, even. when you ride him he’s gasping for breath between unhinged mewls and whines, gripping your hips with his calloused hands as tightly as he can while you unravel him. 

sit on his face. do it. he’s obsessed with how soft your thighs are, and being surrounded by you makes him feel like he’s in heaven. 

andrew takes any opportunity he can to bury his face in your breasts; another soft, safe place. 

he loves you sm hon. it’s so precious i can’t take it nsdfsdkjf.

joseph desaulniers (sfw)

peepaw  joseph is absolutely enamored with you, dear. 

smooth french compliments send the blood right to your cheeks, giving joseph a rather insufferable smirk for the rest of the day. 

to get back at him, wear his clothes. it’ll make him short circuit. 

joseph isn’t incredibly cuddly all of the time, he has more spontaneous moods where he craves the feeling of you in his arms, or even your arms around him! he may put up a little bit of a huffy front when you ask to hold him, but he loves it <3

these moods end in cuddle sessions that last for hours and joseph whining if you have to leave.

“chérie.. are you sure you have to leave now? please... stay a little longer.”

joseph desaulniers (nsfw)

he’s the perfect mix of gentle and tantalizingly rough. he’ll get rough at first; only thinking about how he can coax those delicious sounds out of you as he slams into you from behind. he mellows out just a few minutes before he cums; this is an act of love, after all. 

so damn handsy. and joseph knows exactly how to use his hands, too. 

he’ll praise you as he fucks you; telling you how good it feels to be inside of you while he drags his nails up your thighs and marking the side of your neck like no tomorrow.

suck him off and let some of his cum drip out of your mouth and onto your chest; it’ll burn the image into his brain for days.

antonio paganini (sfw)

very chill about everything. antonio’s had his fair share of partners, albeit most of them were one night stands; he tended to focus more on his musical career than romantic pursuits.

his main focus is definitely not on anyone’s physical form, unless he’s in a match with them.

antonio loves the way you look though! don’t get me wrong.

likes to take bubble baths with you :) 

antonio paganini (nsfw)

has soft dom energy but enjoys tying you up or restraining you with his hair. 

enjoys leaving marks all over your chest and hips; especially if someone has managed to pull out his possessive side recently. 

he’ll hum in content when he sees you writhing and whimpering underneath him; he’s also got quite the size kink.

you’re going to have to be patient and settle for antonio’s long fingers before he can reward you; he wants you completely undone before he can sink his cock into you. 

#idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #idv x reader #idv smut #identity v x reader #identity v smut #antonio paganini x reader #andrew kreiss x reader #andrew kreiss headcanons #idv violinist #idv gravekeeper #violinist x reader #photographer x reader #joseph desaulniers x reader #joseph desaulnier #joseph desaulnier x reader #idv photographer #joseph x reader #joseph desaulnier headcanons #gravekeeper x reader

[transexualpirate]

“Perfect.”

When he first told Dean, he looked so small and helpless, almost guilty, like he expected Dean to just smack him right in the spot for daring to bring it up. Maybe that's what convinced Dean to participate. Or maybe it was the warmth that painted his cheeks when he imagined Cas smiling brightly at his kid and his... and Dean coming together to make something for him. "Father's Day, huh? Sure. Yeah, why not?" Jack smiled as bright as Cas did in his head.

so uhhhh aparently it’s father’s day in the usa? so i wrote a little something for @dadstielweek​ i hope this is okay <3 also thank you @creepyeyesandfrogs​ for the inspiration ur the best!!!

Summary: Dean and Jack have plans for Cas on father’s day. They also have some unresolved issues.

Warnings: Miscommunication, self worth issues, J*hn Winchester, brief mentions of self destructive tendencies (nothing explicit), brief mentions of sexual themes between Dean and Cas (also not explicit), background Saileen.

also, english is not my native language and i mess up sometimes! i’d much appreciate it if you warn me about any possible mistakes.

"Damn, kid, those are some bright colors you used." it was meant as a jab, but Jack only smiled proudly

"Thank you" he replied "I thought I might be using too much yellow, so his name is written in pink. See?"

Dean did. He stared at the card for a few more seconds. It read "Dad: I feel so safe with you! You always took good care of me and you hold me so gently when I can't sleep. Your the best dad ever!" in yellow, with blue doodles of bees and hearts around it, and "I love you, Castiel" in light pink at the bottom. It wasn't a work of art, but he clearly had fun doing it with some old colorful markers he found around the bunker. It was funny to Dean that a 5'8'' man had done it.

Not a man, he corrected himself. A kid. It was easier to see it in days like these.

"Yeah, it's real pretty, alright. But, uh, just a note-" Jack looked up then, his eyes wide. Dean tried not to be offended about how obvious it was that he was waiting for Dean to back down at any moment "You wrote 'your'. As in, 'your bag', 'your drink', 'your pen', you know. It's 'you're'. Like, 'you are'. You're. You're the best dad ever. Okay?"

"Oh." he looked down again. Stayed silent for a few seconds. Dean imagined he was processing this new information. Then he brought up the yellow marker and fixed it. "There. Is that it?"

"Yup. Looks perfect, kid. Cas is gonna love it."

Jack looked like someone had just told him he could eat all the candy he wanted. Dean found himself chuckling softly at him, then turned back to the cake he was decorating. He was pretty anxious himself. He knew he wasn't the best cook out there, and art also wasn't his strong spot, but he figured that writing "Happy Father's Day" wouldn't be so hard. Jack insisted in some skittles on top of it, too, because "Cas loves colorful things and he even ate some of Jack's last week and seemed to like it!". Dean wasn't so sure. He knew Cas had a weird relationship with food. He didn't need it, and hardly found any he genuinely liked. So he might not eat it at all. Or he might eat it just to make Dean feel good.

But there was something else he had in mind. Something he and Jack had picked in town last week. It was sappy and simple and exactly the kind of thing he never though they’d get to experience.

In the kitchen counter, close to the coffee machine, there was a porcelain mug wrapped with a colorful ribbon. And on it was written “BEST DAD EVER”.

Coffee was something that Cas liked. Especially when it had plenty of sugar. The mug was silly, the kind of thing you’d find at the dollar store, but it made Dean smile just thinking about it. Cas could drink from it everyday. 

Jack followed his gaze and stared at it with a smile. Then he turned to Dean, and to the cake, and seemed to understand something.

“You know he’ll love it too, right?” Dean smiled, but it wasn’t natural anymore. He wasn’t surprised when Jack didn’t buy it. “No, I’m serious. He likes chantilly. He likes chocolate cake. He likes skittles. He loves you. Why wouldn’t he like it?”

 It wasn’t planned at all. It just came out. Easy like that.

He likes all those things. He loves you.

Dean sucked in a breath but before he could reply Jack was staring back at the mug. It seemed like he was already thinking about something else. He was like that, sometimes. Too much energy, a bit like an actual child would have, and not enough place to put it. It wasn’t uncommon for him to lose his train of thought mid sentence. It’s like his own brain was a bit too fast for him.

Dean was like that too, sometimes.

He silently wondered if he should scold him for that, like his own father did to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, He nudged Jack’s shoulder softly. “Go on. Use plenty of chantilly, ‘kay? You’re right, he likes it.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He hopped to the fridge and got the rest of the chantilly Dean used for the cake. Gently placed the ribbon a little lower on the mug so he could pour something inside it. Turned to the kitchen cabinet and picked up a spoon, and, before Dean, he raised his index finger.

And the coffee machine started working.

Magically.

“Jack!” Dean hissed. He didn’t want to deal with that right now. “Jack, please. Don’t-”

“It’s okay!” he seemed excited “I got it.” he brought a spoonful of chantilly, and the mug floated and stood right in front of him, gravity be damned. “It’s easier this way, I can just-” he held the chantilly container with one hand, the spoon with the other, and the mug was hovering in front of him. There was no way he couldn’t see how that was dangerous.

“Jack, come on,” Dean stopped decorating the cake and reached for the mug “just put it d-”

“Whoa, guys?”

Too many things happened too fast. Sam walked through the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes lazily. Dean flinched. Hard. He thought Cas had discovered them. Jack also flinched, his eyes wide and scared, like he’d been found doing something he shouldn’t be doing. The coffee machine stopped working. The mug fell.

It shattered on the floor, before them.

“Oh, shit.” Sam said, wise as ever.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Come on! Look at it! Goddammit, kid, why did you have to- Come on!”

“Guys? Uh, sorry-” 

“I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I thought- I thought Cas had- I got scared, I’m sorry, Dean, I can fix this, let me just-” he gestured to it, clearly intending to use his powers again, but Dean stopped him, gripping his wrist forcefully with just a little too much strength.

“No. You’ve done enough.” Dean said, his voice cold. He wasn’t sure how exactly things could get worse, but he didn’t want to find out either. Jack struggled to get away from his hold with wobbling lips.

“Dean-” Sam placed a careful hand on his brother’s shoulder “what’s going on?”

“It’s father’s day.” Dean said “We baked a cake and bought Cas a stupid mug but now-” he sighed “the kid used his creepy ass powers and now it’s broken.”

That was like someone had slapped Jack in the face. He finally managed to get his arm free and stepped back like it had burned him. He clutched his wrist, and cried.

“I’m s-sorry...” he managed between sobs.

Dean stared.

He was crying. Outright bawling his eyes out like it was all he knew how to do. If Cas hadn’t slept in Dean’s room (conveniently far away from the kitchen, it was all thought out, that’s definetely the only reason he was there) exhausted from last night’s activities (angels don’t need sleep, per se, but they do benefit from it every now and then if they’re low on grace and already tired from... uh, hunting) he probably would have woken up.

“Oh, shit.” Dean said, for once, somewhat wise.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I shouldn’t have used th-them. It’s my fault! I didn’t- I didn’t mean-!” he stepped back again, like he was scared anyone would hurt him (or he would hurt anyone).

Dean’s heart dropped to his toes and he wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Shit, kid. No, it’s- Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have yelled like that. Fuck. Sam, a little help here?”

Sam stared at them for a second, his eyebrows knitted together. 

Dean got mad and went a bit too far. That’s happened before.

It happened a lot with John.

But Dean would always chime in and fix John’s messes for him.

Sam turned around, brought a shovel and a broom and in two swift movements cleaned the remains of the mug while Dean stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

And then he left the kitchen.

“What the fuck. Sam, what the- Sam!” but, obviously, Sam didn’t turn around. It wasn’t that he didnt care. He did. So much. He was scared that if he let them there things would only get worse. But he trusted them- he had to.

Dean and Jack needed to have this conversation by themselves.

Jack. The Jack that was pressed up against the wall crying desperately like there’s no tomorrow. Dean wanted to cry too.

“Kid. Jack. Jack, I’m sorry. Hey, listen to me.” he took a careful step but Jack didn’t even seem to notice. He was clutching his own wrist so hard Dean was scared he was going to break the skin. 

He raised his hand and slowly reached for his wrist. Jack flinched again and looked up to Dean like he was surprised that he was so close. Slowly, like he was trying to approach a wild animal, Dean held the kid’s hand and opened it, forcing him to let go.

“There we go. Careful, kiddo. You were hurting yourself.”

Jack scoffed, or tried to, but as he hadn’t stopped crying yet it sounded a little like a scared cat. “Right. Like I d-don’t deserve it.”

“No.” Dean’s voice was suddenly rough again “No, you don’t. Kid- Jack, look at me.”

Jack didn’t want to, but Dean reached for his chin softly and, carefully, as if the Nephilim was made of glass, he brought his face up.

“I-I ruined it, Dean. I broke the mug.”

“Yeah.” his voice was soft again “You did. But it’s okay. You didn’t do it on purpose. You got scared. You shouldn’t have been so careless, but you didn’t mean to do it. I know you didn’t. Okay? You just have to be more careful next time. It’s fine. You’re fine, okay? I’m... I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jack stared at him. His lips were slightly parted and his face was still tear stained. Dean ran his thumbs through his cheekbones, drying his tears softly. Jack let him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have... Used them. My- my creepy powers.”

“No, Jack, it’s okay. Those powers, they’re not creepy, okay? They’ve helped so many people before. They’ve saved us. And they’re a part of you, and you’re not creepy, okay? You’re not. I’m sorry I said that. I was wrong. And I shouldn’t have- Shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack looked like he was waiting for the punchline. He studied Dean’s face, and eventually he stuttered out “It’s... It’s okay, Dean.”

“We both fucked up, huh?” he chuckled softly, and Jack did so too.

“Yeah. I guess- I guess we did.”

“Well, I’m the adult. I can’t let this happen again. I’m not going to. Okay? I’ll be more careful too. I just- I lost it, Jack. I’m so, so sorry. I hope you know how wrong I was. You’re not bad, Jack. You didn’t do this on purpose. You were just trying to be faster. It’s okay. You made a small mistake. It’s no biggie. I need to keep it cool next time, okay?”

“No! No, there won’t be a next time, Dean. I’ll be more careful, I promise!”

Dean smiled. “I know, Jack, I know you will. But you’re four. You’re gonna make silly mistakes like this. Your job is to try a little more everyday. Okay?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically. “I will. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will, little guy. I will, too, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“I promise, too.” Jack smiled at that. Dean swept his hair from his face, leaned in and kissed the kid’s forehead. He beamed. And then he stopped. Dean glanced at his face.

“But, Dean... It’s, it’s broken, now. We only have the cake and the card.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll love them, Jack.”

“Yeah, but... It’s... It’s Cas, Dean. He deserves better.”

Dean contemplated for a second. And then he smiled. Jack tilted his head in a very Cas-like fashion.

“I have an idea.”

Cas turned around in Dean’s bed, hoping to find the man laying next to him. He didn’t. 

It wasn’t unnexpected, you see, Dean woke up early everyday. Cas wasn’t used to sleeping, but when he did, he slept in late. He only needs his four hours after all. But honestly, Cas couldn’t help but wonder if there was some shame in there.

He glanced around the room and decided it would be best if he got dressed. He got up, groaning softly, then retrieved his underwear and pants from Dean’s desk. His shirt was on the ground. Tie and trenchcoat were perched on a chair. His cellphone was on his pocket. He thought about going out, maybe make Jack some breakfast, but it was still early and the kid was probably asleep. So he decided to go back to bed (without his trenchcoat, mind you, not even he is that formal).

Immediately as he laid down there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” he slurred out, still sleepy.

Whoever was on the other side hesitated. “Are you... Decent?”

Cas couldn’t stop his smile. “Yeah, Dean, I’m decent.”

“No, like... Jack- Jack is here, Cas.”

There was a laugh on the other side. “Dude?” Sam whispered. Cas decided to pretend he didn’t hear him.

“Come in, Dean. Unless you want me to put on my shoes as well.”

The door opened and the first thing Cas noticed is that Dean’s whole face was red as a tomato. The second thing was that he was holding a cake covered in chantilly and skittles and the third is that he was followed by Jack and Sam.

Oh, no, did he forget anyone’s birthday?

But they didn’t sing. Instead, Jack jumped on the bed, holding something colorful. Sam was right behind him, holding a wooden platform and placing it on the bed. It was like a support so nothing would fall. Dean put the cake on the platform and Jack placed something too.

Cas blinked.

“Uh, wh-what’s... Did I... Miss something?”

“It’s Father’s Day!!” Jack beamed. Cas couldn’t help but mirror his smile. But he was still a bit confused.

“O-okay, so...?” Jack leaped at him, involving him in a hug.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad!”

Oh. Oh! “Jack!”

“Kid’s super excited. It’s your first Father’s day without an apocalypse, after all. So, we... Yeah. We did something.” Dean tried to explain. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Cas stared at him like he’d personally brought him the moon.

“They did something for you, too, Cas. Look!” Sam pointed at the colorful package at the improvised table. He noticed, then, that it wasn’t a package. 

It was a mug involved by a colorful ribbon. The one he usually used. It used to be white and bland. But now, there was a blue tie doodled on it, and in Dean’s unmistakable handwriting it was written “WORLD’S BEST DAD”. It was filled with coffee and chantilly, just the way he likes it.

Cas held it in his hands and couldn’t stop the tears flooding his face. 

For a second, Jack panicked. His eyes widened and he looked between Cas and Dean questioningly. Dean reached a hand to his shoulder and whispered “I think he likes it, Champ.”

“But- But he’s crying?”

Cas sniffed loudly, then. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t expect it. World’s best dad, him? “They’re... T-they’re tears of joy, Jack.”

Sam giggled sofly. He brought his cellphone up and started recording. He was happy he did, because just at that moment, Dean leaned down and kissed him wholeheartedly.

Like, on the lips. Full on romantic kiss. The type they show on TV. 

If Jack was surprised, he didn’t show it. But he was happy, that was clear. Sam, however, cheered them on. “Oh, fucking finally!”

Dean showed the camera his middle finger. Jack tilted his head again, and Sam zoomed in on him, mumbling something about “like father, like son”. When they broke apart, their pupils blown and panting softly, Dean cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Cas was at loss for words.

Jack seemed to remember something, then, and shoved his card on Cas’ face with no mercy. “Oh, oh! I also made a card! And Dean baked the cake! We painted the mug together. He taught me how to draw a tie. Do you like it?” 

“Liked it? Jack, I love it. Look at it! You drew a bee, too! It’s so pretty.” he sighed contented while Dean tried to steal Sam’s phone only to find he had already sent the video to Eileen. Jack stared at him with childlike wonder, and Cas was almost scared for a moment because of how happy he was. But it was okay. He was allowed to be happy. He deserved it. “I love it. Thank you, so much. All of you. It’s perfect- you’re perfect.” he turned to Dean, with Sam’s hand on his shoulder as he cooed childishly. “I love you, Dean.” And then he turned to Jack, the kid smiling in blissful, childish naivety. “And I love you, son.”

“See?” Dean grinned, nudging Jack playfully “I told you he’d love it.”

#dadstiel #oh my GOD it's his son!!!! #is his baby!!! his child!!!!! #hes a DAD #dad castiel #castiel winchester #destiel #jack kline #jack winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam leahy #eileen leahy #saileen #destiel and saileen #dadstiel week #father's day #supernatural #spn #castiel supernatural #fic #mine #spn fic #destiel fluff #dean and jack #dean and jack bonding #miscommunication #angst #hurt and comfort #destiel fluffy

[juminly]

Nights Like These

Summary: A nice cozy movie night with timeskip! Iwaizumi Hajime.  Tags: Mostly Fluff & Smut towards the end. Warning: Smut starts after the “♥♥♥” and includes fingering and cockwarming.

–♥– 

Hajime knew that you loved mac and cheese. He had enough skills to be able to be able to whip up something nice and yummy for you after you've had such a long day and especially since you haven’t had an actual “date” in so long. Living on his own in the US for a few years did have its perks and this was one of them: he was a grown ass man who knew his way well enough in the kitchen to be able to cook for you. Sighing loudly, dark orbs stared for a few seconds at the smart watch strapped to his wrist then back at the pot in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing you more than anything. Being the athletic trainer of the national Japanese team was no ordinary feat and it took up a lot of his time and energy. But, that didn't mean that it would take up the time that you deserved, the time that you both needed. Being always so hyper-focused on his own work, his thoughts tended to drift off quite often to you, just thinking about the last few phone calls you had, the last few texts you sent him and the things you've done in your last few dates. He missed the way you sighed when he played with your hair... God, he loved playing with your hair, twirling your curls in his fingers. It wasn't even the agreed time for your date but he was anxious to see you. He wouldn't admit it to you though, not even to himself. The loud and strong thrumming of his heart in his chest was a big reminder of how much he loved you. He was smitten. No, ever worse! or better? He couldn't even think straight anymore, he was whipped for you and... Ring! Ring! Ring! Three rings. That's your own way of letting him know that it was you and he just absolutely loved it when you did that. If it were anyone else at the door, he wouldn't have been rushing towards it the way he had and flung it open just to see your face.

"Princess." The corner of his lips just curled up out of their own volition, didn't even ask for permission but they didn't even have to. You were here and he wouldn't have it any other way. Why was he acting and feeling like such a schoolboy? He didn't even care. What he cared about was why you were still not throwing your arms around him. "Come here, you." Leaning forward, he took your hand in his and pulled you in for a hug, squeezing his arms tightly around your waist, supporting your weight as you literally balanced yourself on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him back. He nuzzled your neck only for a brief moment, leaving a gentle kiss there and before you murmured in a wondering tone. "Cheesy?" He couldn't help but stiffen for a brief moment. Did you figure out what he had prepared for you? Or even worse, Hajime would be completely mortified if you thought he was cheesy or corny at any point and you didn't like it. Not that he was a man of many words but he always made sure that any word coming out of his mouth meant something. At least when it came to you. He didn't give two fucks when it came to the guys, they could all whimper and cry for all he cared. Nobody meant more to him than you. The click of your tongue snapped him out of his racing thoughts and that giggle... that same glorious and marvellous sound that made him turn his head the first time you met, that time when your eyes locked and he knew that he had to talk to you, even if one of the players on the team had to be used as a wingman just to be able to get a word in with you. "Babe-" You laughed softly. "What's going on in that head of yours? Are you daydreaming about me when I'm in your arms?" With a long sigh, you mumbled and seemed a bit disgruntled, which obviously made the furrow between Hajime's eyebrows even deeper. "If that's the case, then I can just leave. Is daydreaming about me better than real me?" He knew you were joking but how dare you use that pouty tone on him?

"I won't answer your first question. You'll have to wait and see for yourself. But-" Pressing his hand on the small of your back, his other hand inched down to grip you by the waist as his lips hovered against your own, his breath fanning over your lips, tickling them lightly just as a tingling sensation arose in both your chests. "Do you really think I would call you over if I didn't want you right where you are right now?" Closing the distance between you, he loses himself in the little taste of sweetness he could get from a chaste gentle kiss of your lips. It was hard for him to even contain himself or exercise any form of control when he's around you. "Right here in my arms." He murmurs softly before going back in for another kiss, a little bit deeper, a tiny bit more passionate as he molds your lips together, sucking on your bottom one before breaking away once again. Gazing down on you as you both try to catch your breath from the small loving exchange, Hajime stared down at your cheeks that were now painted with the most adorable blush, his heart swelling with giddiness that he was the one responsible for such a reaction from you. "Come on, we're watching The Princess Bride tonight and I better not hear any objections from you." He smiled as he saw yet another giggle from you, even as you rolled your eyes and told him that you've already seen it a thousand times before and you didn't even know why he wanted to watch it with you. Silencing you with a small peck, his usual frown was still on that handsome face of his but his gaze was soft and endearing. "I want to know more about the things that you love so you'll have to humour me for tonight, baby girl."

Kissing your cheek, his hand finds yours and he guides you to the living room, pulling you away from the kitchen since he knew that was the destination you had in mind. You always wanted to give him a hand when it came to literally anything but when it came to your dates or your time together, Hajime wanted to show that he wanted to do things for you. It was simply his love language. A language that was created since he met you. "Thanks for coming over. I know it was last minute but the guys' practice match got postponed so I decided to cut them some slack." - he chuckled before meeting your eyes that were now crinkling with laughter - "Not that I don't plan on kicking their ass later anyway. Gotta make sure they are in top shape and remember who's the one making the rules." Once he ensured that you were seated, he threw you a glance of warning over his shoulder as he walked out to the kitchen. "You better sit tight princess while I go get the food. I'll be right back." He winked at you and chuckled at the way you squirmed slightly and busied yourself with the remote control as he prepared your dinner for you. Hajime had his own way of showing his love and spoiling you. The man wanted to make sure that he followed through. Making you feel special, trying to show but a sliver of how he truly felt about you. Sighing loudly and after ensuring that the pasta was thoroughly cooked, he meticulously dumped it in a bowl, big enough to fit 6 servings of mac and cheese and brought two plates along with him to the living room.

As "The Princess Bride" began playing, you both dug into your food and being the humble fellow that he was, Hajime didn't dare comment on the food but he did find it quite... acceptable, to say the least. On the other hand, the look on your face when you saw what he had cooked for you was worth all the effort. He didn't use the basic Kraft Dinner mac and cheese, even though it was basically your favourite. However, he just wanted to do just a little bit extra for you, add his own touch : a four cheese mac and cheese with the finest pasta from a local Italian shop that he always ate at and even took you to a few times. The first few bites etched an expression of pure bliss on your face and that drew a shit eating grin on his face, one that you didn't even get the chance to see as you were too busy filling in your plate with a second serving. While you munched on your food and whispered about your favourite scenes from time to time, Hajime tried his best to keep his attention on the movie but you were much more entertaining that it was while you recited almost every single line that resounded from the TV. He wished he could turn it off and just watch you act out the movie and tell him about everything you love about it, he wouldn't have minded that at all.

He chuckled under his breath at the look of amazement on your face when you both managed to finish and lick clean all the contents of the pot. He just let you believe that you ate more than him - just for shits and giggles - when he was also devouring whatever he could from the food (about 4.5 servings - the man works out A LOT, okay? Don't judge-). Nobody could blame him, it was fucking delicious and he was proud that you loved something that he made with his own two hands. Taking a short clean-up/bathroom break, Hajime cozied up on the couch, checking all the stupid emojis and texts he received from the Olympic team. How did they even know that he was on a date with you? The texts and emojis on the group chat ranged from: "Ya betta get it on tonight, Iwa-chan~ Ya frown too much cause ya don't get laid enough!" - Atsumu, the wannabe Shittykawa. "WAT R U GOING TO BE DOING ON UR DATE? WILL IT BE FUN? MAYBE I CAN COME!? I LUV UR GF" - Hinata, the sweet sunshine boy bordering on annoying but too pure to be so, Hajime had to admit that he had a soft spot for him and the rowdy wing spiker who followed up with a text of his own. "WE'RE COMING OVER IN 1H TO HANG OUT WITH U! WE MISS HER SO MUCH!", Bokuto's follow-up did nothing but make the trainer's blood boil with imminent rage. If those two dimwits dared to even ring the bell of his condo, Japan can say goodbye to their favourite chaotic duo.

Putting in an Airpod in his left ear, Hajime began recording the most graphically violent threat he could muster on the group chat and stuttering mid-way through the voice note. Yes, Hajime Iwaizumi stuttered out of surprise and YOU were the only one who could catch this man off-guard as you walked back into the living room wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts. He barely managed a quick "I gotta go", clicked send without looking at the screen, blinked and gawked at you with a baffled frown.  "What happened to your clothes?" "Well~ Things did get a little messy in the kitchen and while I...-" You cleared your throat and bit your bottom lip, definitely not trying to turn him on. Sarcasm alert. "-kinda made things worse so I borrowed one of your T-shirts. I hope you don't mind." He simply shook his head, mumbling a husky "It's fine, what's mine is yours" and patted the seat next to him. His frown only grew deeper when you walked closer to him but made no sign of actually sitting down. Looking up at you, he could see the bright flush spreading across your cheeks when you pointed to his lap. "Is that seat taken?"

His eyebrow perked up in amusement along with a mirthful smirk, your bottom lip remaining a prisoner between your teeth. "Be my guest. Who am I to refuse a request from my princess." He chuckled as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into his lap and you squirmed in embarrassment, the feeling of your well-defined butt rubbing against him, those supple cheeks that his crotch was getting well acquainted with. The accidental groan that escaped his lips was a definite warning to stop what you were doing or continue at your own risk.

"If you keep wiggling your ass on me like that, you're gonna have to own up to your actions, sweetheart." His rough baritone was telling of the growing desire he had for you. He hadn't seen you in so long and he was starved for your touch, as if the soft brush of his calloused fingers on your thighs was no indication to his underlying intentions. He knew how sensitive you were and he was not above taking advantage of that fact, the slight shiver that ran over your body only urged on him, wanting to coax even more of these delicious reactions from you. 

♥♥♥ "Iwa-" Before you could even finish calling his name, his lips were on yours, nipping at your bottom one and sucking deeply before licking his way into your mouth, tasting the freshness of mint from his mouthwash as he entangled his tongue with your own, groaning loudly into your mouth. Breaking only for a moment, he demanded your attention as his fingers began to meander up your inner thighs, wasting no time to slide his index and middle over your panties, a clear wet spot forming and drenching the fabric slowly..

"If this is what you've wanted all along, you should've just said so, you naughty princess." Pushing your panties aside with his other hand, he deftly parted your folds and circled his fingers over your entrance, gathering up your slickness before lathering over your slit, barely grazing your swelling clit that desperately needed his attention. Seeing how you held your breath and stiffened in his embrace made him only want to do even more to you. This is not the type of quality time he had in mind but he was definitely not going to object to it. "Baby girl..." He crooned huskily as one of his hands rubbed up and down one of your thighs, making sure that your legs remained parted so that he could finger you good enough, prep you for what he had in mind. Before capturing your lips once again, he licked the seams of your lips, demanding that your eyes meet his own as he murmured against you. "You call me by my name, baby. You're royalty to me, after all." He smiled softly as you responded in kind, calling out his name and pulling him in a deep kiss, your hips slowly beginning to rut against his fingers that had yet to turn things up a notch. "Hajime..." You whimpered shakily against his lips, his warm breath fanning over your wet lips as his thumb rolled over your sensitive bud, moving clockwise and counter-clockwise, fast and slow with just the right amount of pressure to leave you with fighting to catch your breath. With two fingers right at your entrance, he watches you with avid interest, humming in satisfaction every time a moan escapes your lips, his own hips grinding involuntarily against your behind as his own erection begins to harden under your squirming figure.

"Hajime, I want you inside me... Please, stop teasing me!" You squeal while your nails dug into his shoulders, gripping those thick muscles tightly, while his own body tensed, betraying the composure that he desperately tried to maintain. His large biceps flexing as he squeezes his arms around you even tighter, trying to cease the negligible movement of your body that is driving him insane.

"Shush, baby. I'll treat you good. Just relax." Finally plunging in his fingers inside you, he swallows your moans with a searing kiss while you cried out into his mouth, his thick digits thrusting in and out of you and curling into you, your inner walls clamping down on them and sucking him in. With every roll of your hips, he met you with a thrust of his own, his fingers knuckle-deep, reaching that sweet stop that has you keening, so damn close to falling apart.

Your lips parted with a loud wet noise, his chest heaving with bated breath, his state reflecting your own but it didn't change the fact that you were feeling even needier when he cruelly removed his fingers from your core. Your frustrated whine didn't elicit any reaction from him but, contrary to his exterior, he could feel his body bursting with heat and it became unbearable. He exhaled loudly, patting your thigh and growling in your ear. "Get up and take your clothes off, baby girl. I'm not getting inside you until you do."

Hurriedly taking off his shirt in one smooth go and just in time to watch you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt, pulling it up in a rush, exposing more and more of your smooth skin. Fuck... he wanted to mark you all up but the twitching of his cock straining against his pants urged him to do so later. There were more pressing matters to attend to and right now, he just wanted to drink you all in. Licking his lips with a desire only you could sate, the darkness of his unquenchable thirst swimming in his orbs almost too much to handle, yet you still kept your gazes locked as you unclipped your bra, letting it fall to the floor while he fumbled with his belt, unzipping his pants and freeing his aching length with a loud hiss. The way you squeezed your legs together didn't go unnoticed and he knew that he left you hanging. "Come here, baby." As you inched closer to him, Hajime placed one large hand on either side of your hips, guiding you before him as you placed one knee on the couch and then another to straddle him, giving him a glimpse of your dripping core that was so ready for the taking while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he latched on to the crook of your neck, sucking on your soft skin deeply while sweet moans tumbled so easily from your quivering lips. "I've had enough, Hajime. I promise... Just please... I want you inside me." You pleaded as his warm hands settled on your butt, fondling your soft cheeks while he angled you right on top of his cock, groaning against your neck. "You're so perfect. I fucking missed you so much." With his fingertips digging into your soft flesh, he eases you onto his cock, sheathing himself fully inside you as you sink onto him, both of you moaning in harmony as your cunt clamped down on every single inch of him that you could take.

For a few moments, both of you remained silent, your forehead pressed against his bare shoulders and his own lying on the crown of your head. The silence of the room was filled with your heavy breathing as you allowed the fullness of your bodies, the fullness of your hearts washed over you and enveloped you completely. Neither of you wanted to move or even dared to, even though your instincts screamed to grind against one another and chase the release that you both wanted. But it wasn't what you really needed. This moment, the intimacy, this... love. "W-what about the movie?" You breathed out shakily against his arm, giggling softly while you began nibbling on the hardness of his bicep. He knew that you weren't even mildly concerned with the movie which made him chuckle out a deep laugh that rumbled in his chest. You... You never failed to those stupid butterflies flutter in his stomach with your cute little acts of possession.

He wore your love bites with pride and didn't mind that they were in a place that was even more visible than his neck. He licked a long strip on the column of your throat, decorating it with nips of his own, marks of his love and yearning for you while his hands sought your breasts, kneading them with tenderness. Even if words betrayed him most of the time, he trusted his actions to speak for him. "There's nothing better than watching you, princess."

–♥– 

Please feel free to leave comments/feedback!💜  Masterlist

Tagging @shhhlikeme @hqissodelicate @cleverlittlevixen (I hope you enjoy your movie night with your boo :*) 💜 

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fanfic #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #hq x reader smut #iwaizumi x reader smut #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu kinktober #haikyū!! smut #hq!! smut #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu writers #hajime iwaizumi #hq!! fluff #iwaizumi x reader fluff

[kiriluvbot]

lvr boy

todoroki has a rough day, and sero attempts to make him feel better. both boys figure out that distractions aren’t always the answer to emotional distress.

—

han !!: hey shou i saw u leave dinner early are u ok?

shou <3: yeah, just a bit drained. sorry i left without saying anything.

han !!: hun u don’t need to apologize, i jus wanna make sure ur doin ok !!

han !!: is there anything i can do?

shou <3: come over ?

han !!: u bet, On my way!

han !!: ive got an idea to cheer u up bb

and that’s how hanta sero got to be hanging from his tape on the rafters directly outside shouto todoroki’s room, over his balcony.

han !!: i’m outside <3

don’t ask him how the physics works; he doesn’t know either. hanta imagined what it must be like to be the fictional american hero, spiderman, and tried to stick his tape from the most secure place on the roof and dangled downward, getting into position as fast as he could so he’d be ready when shouto peeled open the door leading to his balcony.

except he hadn’t exactly said he would be on the balcony.

and it’s cold outside. hanta shivers as a rush of wind sends him waving like a flag outside shouto’s room. he feels more and more ridiculous the longer he sits—dangles?— here, with all the blood rushing to his head. what's taking shouto so long?

inside, shouto is peering into the hall, looking for a familiar head of dark hair. he’s tired. he needs hanta to be able to properly recharge. he misses hanta. he sort of wants to cry, sort of wants to melt into the floor, sort of wants hanta to sweep him up and make him forget everything else in the world.

he frowns when he finds no one outside his door. “hanta?”

where is he?

shouto glances over his shoulder, at the doors leading to his balcony, at the thick curtains blocking out the moonlight.

surely not...

but it’s hanta, and he had said he’d be outside. hanta comes up with the craziest ideas sometimes. but how could he have gotten out there?

shouto shakes his head once, crosses the room with apprehension. pulling back the curtain, shouto nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of hanta sero outside his door, hanging upside down with a tight grip on his tape, the widest, goofiest smile on his face.

shouto slides open the door, the rush of cool wind sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. even being this close to hanta makes him stand up a little taller, already absorbing energy to start recharging. he’s a magnet. hanta is a ball of pure, unhinged light and love. hanta is a source of comfort, a place to come home to. shouto can’t stop his growing smile as it mirrors hanta’s own.

“there you are,” shouto breathes. that overwhelming weight that just kept building through the day starts to lay off, little by little.

“how’s this for a surprise?” hanta’s waving a bit in the wind. his cheeks, nose, and ears are dusted pink. inky black hair waves with him, curling at the ends. his eyes are dark pools full of stars, full of adoration, full of mischief.

shouto could—should—kiss him.

“i’m always surprised with you, hanta,” shouto says, laughing lightly as he steps out of his room, bare feet on the wood of the balcony. they’re close to eye level, and shouto raises his hands, almost unsure, and presses them to hanta’s grinning cheeks.

“gotta keep my boy on his toes, you know?” hanta tries to lean in the closer shouto gets like a moth to a flame, curious eyes searching shouto’s face for any tells of fatigue, of sickness, of sadness. he only finds sleepy awe. “gotta change things up every now and then.”

the two toned boy plants a ghost of a kiss to hanta’s forehead. it’s not enough. “this must be a spiderman thing,” shouto muses. “i know how much you like that guy.”

“naturally. he’s the coolest,” hanta giggles at that, and shouto’s fractured heart starts to mend. his cracked facade from spending the whole day strung out, anxious for nothing, begins to crumble at his feet. hanta has a knack for pulling shouto completely apart, for piecing him wholly together, for taking the pressure off shouto’s shoulders, even if it’s just for a little while.

“i remember the movie we watched together,” shouto hums, thumbs grazing over hanta’s cheekbones. “there was a scene similar to this, right?”

hanta’s skin burns under his fingers. shouto watches his adam’s apple dip as he swallows. “something like it, yeah.”

shouto meets his eye, recognizes that mischievous look flickering over his features. he chases the light, takes in every single detail of hanta’s face, every detail he has memorized like constellations at this point, every detail he wants to place a kiss to, every detail he never gets tired of.

then, shouto gets on his tippy toes and tilts forward, holding hanta’s face, and kisses his lover boy, slow and sweet. it’s strange kissing someone upside down, but hanta kisses him back like he’s been anxiously waiting for it to come, like he’ll never get enough.

it’s not enough.

when shouto pulls back, hanta is smiling again, dizzy and red faced. in a single, fluid movement, hanta flips and releases the hold on his tape. he lands, steady on his feet in front of shouto, wind blown hair framing his face like a priceless painting. his grin, his pure, radiating joy and goodness outshines the moon, as if the sun instead resides inside his chest.

he’s too good for me.

hanta’s eyes widen as shouto takes his reddening hands and kisses those, too. kisses his palms. his knuckles. shouto has always loved hanta’s hands; clever and sneaky hands, sure and gentle hands.

he knows the patterns of hanta’s hands like the back of his own, knows the life lines, the callouses, the old scar between his middle and pointer finger knuckles. he knows the pattern of all his moles and freckles and the way they creep up his arms, up his neck, down his chest like a fairy danced to their favorite song over his skin.

after a sharp intake of breath, hanta asks, “are you alright, shou?”

not really. i’m asking for a distraction. do you think a distraction will make it all go away? all this pressure on my chest?

the sincerity of his voice causes shouto to stop in his tracks.

i didn't sleep well at all. i had a nightmare about failing the hero course. i was late to class.

he looks up, blue and gray falling on gravitational black.

i got a 60 on our history test today and i locked myself in the bathroom for three minutes trying to remind myself it’s just one single test.

hanta’s smile is dipping.

bakugo was yelling more than usual. aizawa and iida both told me i was off my game. i spilled my drink in my lap at lunch.

he grips shouto’s fingers and pulls him closer. always closer.

i had to cancel my plans with my mom this friday to retake the test i bombed. i cried after we got off the phone.

shouto has to tilt his head up. hanta sure has gotten tall.

he feels childish trying to explain why literally nothing had gone his way today, why every small thing made him want to curl up and cry for hours. “just—today was a bit overwhelming. everything going wrong and getting too loud, you know? but i’m feeling better.”

now that you’re here.

when hanta leans into his space again, shouto unconsciously warms up the air around them.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

my coffee spilled over the edge of the cup this morning and hurt my fingers and i had to sit on the floor for six and a half minutes trying to suck the tears back into my eyes.

“not really,” shouto answers. it’s not a lie.

“you’re sure?”

his breath is warm on shouto’s face, eyes wide and sincere.

“i’m sure.”

if we talk about it i’m almost certain i’ll cry again.

hanta seems to buy it. his lip ticks upward just a notch. that curiosity turns sly as he releases shouto from his hold, as his hands dance up and over the shorter boy’s shoulders, over his shoulder blades, down his spine.

“totally sure?”

the space between is no space and too much all at once. it’s not enough.

“absolutely sure.” just kiss me already, you maniac.

finally, finally, hanta’s lips find his own, right side up and certain. stars explode in shouto’s chest, behind his eyes. supernova as his fingers dip into hanta’s hair, as he melts under the attention and contact, on his tippy toes.

all too soon, hanta pulls back, humming all the while. shouto nearly pouts at the loss until hanta dips down, those searching hands taking shouto’s thighs.

oh.

the smaller boy squeaks, though he’ll always deny it later, as hanta picks him up and wraps shouto’s legs around his waist.

oh.

he’s… carrying him.

this is new.

“we’re goin’ inside,” is the only explanation hanta offers. his head whips back up in a flurry of glittering hair and a puckish grin. always glittering. always grinning.

shouto holds on tightly, arms around around hanta’s shoulders. he keeps his mouth shut for fear of saying something completely stupid. hanta is talking, though shouto’s been too focused on the muscles of his back beneath his hands to really know what he said. his chin presses into shouto’s collar. shouto wishes it were his lips instead. god.

still holding on to shouto, with those goddamn hands on shouto’s thighs—i’m gonna die—hanta shuts the door and closes the curtain like he’s seen shouto do a thousand times during his nightly shut in routine. shouto considers asking to be let down but—but his hands on his thighs—i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, this is where it ends—

hanta’s shampoo smells like grapefruit. his hair brushes shouto’s cheek. he wants to bury his face in it, wants to move it to the side and explore every freckle dusting his smooth skin, wants to kiss every single place he can reach—good god, he’s gonna die.

then, incredibly, horribly, boldly, hanta sits at the edge of shouto’s bed. he readjusts so shouto is sitting properly in his lap, legs still wrapped around his waist. those goddamn hands slide down the sides of shouto’s thighs, over the fabric of his pajama shorts, just barely grazing exposed skin, like hanta knows. shouto lifts his head from the crook in hanta’s neck to finally get a good look at him in this soft lighting.

hanta’s cheeks are still painted pink.

there’s so much contact. broad shoulders beneath his hands. solid chest if he drags his hands down. narrow waist if he goes even further, strong abs from swinging through the air and keeping his balance. his hands on shouto’s thighs.

any and all rational thoughts shouto may have had exit stage right.

“this okay?” he asks.

shouto responds with a single nod of his head. he’s distracted, alright.

that’s a good enough answer for hanta. the raven haired boy pressed forward once again, closing the gap, aiming for shouto’s lips but landing right next to them. shouto can feel his smile against his skin. his chest is tight, his fingers subconsciously twisting the ends of hanta’s wavy hair.

everything slows down.

“there’s a dimple here when you smile, you know?” hanta murmurs, a cold pointer finger tapping the spot just to the left of his mouth. he kisses that spot. it’s horribly and surprisingly tender, plucking shouto’s weakened heart strings. “have i ever told you how much i love that dimple?”

“i don’t think so.” his head tilts back.

his lips dip beneath shouto’s jaw. “what about this? surely i’ve told you how much i love this.” his kiss is warm, his laughter tickling as he says, “the freckles here look like the little dipper.”

shouto’s eyes flutter closed as lips press under his ear.

“the little dipper, hm?”

hanta hums and shouto can feel it vibrate through his chest. he pulls back a bit, brings shouto’s scarred hero-in-training hands up to his lips and kisses all ten fingers, all ten knuckles, slowly, making sure not to skip a single one.

“and your hands,” hanta murmurs, thumb rubbing circles on the soft part of shouto’s palm. “i love how capable and powerful they are, how you can create and destroy, how you still choose to be gentle.” a kiss touches down on his right palm, a strike through his heart. the sweetness makes shouto’s teeth ache.

there’s a smirk in his voice when hanta speaks again. “and these,” he says, breath startling warm and close to shouto’s collarbones, peeking out of his t-shirt. fingers dip into the fabric, pulling down just a bit. shouto sucks in a breath as lips land true on the bone. “always wanted to kiss you here, you know?”

what took you so long to do it?!

the part of shouto’s brain that was working to create coherent thoughts is in system shut down mode. he basks under the attention, under the light, under the worship of hanta sero, of his boyfriend, of his best friend. he basks and he melts, completely unsure of how to take it, how to accept it.

“and this—“ there’s a small birthmark at the very base of shouto’s neck hanta has wanted to kiss since they were first years. so he does. “love this here.”

every single bit of you, shouto todoroki.

there’s a pause that makes shouto open his eyes and search for hanta.

the taller boy could carry on all night, reaching out for every small inch of shouto todoroki that he’s in love with and explaining exactly why he loves each minuscule detail of it, but he pauses.

shouto’s brows dip, hesitant.

hanta came here to make sure he was okay.

he holds the gaze of the boy in his lap, of the boy he’s loved since he was fifteen, of the boy he’ll love until he passes on from this world to the next. there’s a blurry daze in his blue and gray eyes, but an ever deeper exhaustion pulls at all his edges. hanta can sweep shouto off his feet left and right, tell him all these lovely things and kiss him until he can’t see straight, but those things are merely temporary distractions.

i’m alright, i promise.

he tilts his head, and his smile is almost sad.

you’re not alright, i saw it in the way you tapped your foot in class, the way you pressed your icy fingers into your forehead, the way you avoided your table at lunch. i saw it in the way you were completely silent during practice, the way you wouldn’t engage in banter with bakugo, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still at dinner. i saw it in the way you left early, in the hectic, cracked state you were in when i got here, when you opened the door.

“hanta?” his voice cracks. shouto thinks, i don't deserve this affection. this appreciation. not from someone as good as you. you deserve—someone who isn’t ready to sob when you tell him you love something about him. hanta—

hanta presses his hand flat against shouto’s chest—no, his heart. he sees the way shouto chews on the inside of his cheek, the way his multicolored lashes flutter.

“i love you here, shouto,” hanta says. “when everything is too much and too loud. when you feel like nothing is going your way, when a split coffee cup feels like the end of the world.”

shouto’s lip purses, blinking furiously. his hands twist into the front of hanta’s shirt as the smaller boy falls forward, collapsing onto hanta’s shoulder with little grace.

“‘m sorry,” is the only thing shouto can muster.

hanta wraps an arm around him, pulls him as close as they can get. his lips press to shouto’s temple, to the stray strands of ruby locks there. “you don’t need to apologize, shou.” his shirt collar is wet. “sometimes… sometimes you just need to talk, you know? you need to let it out instead of leaving it unchecked.”

shouto’s heart pounds against hanta’s chest.

“you asked for a distraction. i should be saying sorry for getting all sappy,” hanta kisses his temple again, feels shouto’s shoulders begin to shake.

shouto laughs at that, small and weak and breathless. i needed to hear it. more than i thought i did. more than you know.

in truth, today isn’t the only awful day the two toned boy has had recently. it’s been every single day, one after the other, but he refused to acknowledge how tired and just plain sad he felt. he thought that if he pulled hanta into his bedroom and closed his eyes, it would go away with time.

and then the coffee burnt his fingers this morning.

that was the final shove. the final push to send shouto hurtling over the edge, stressed and strung out and overwhelmed. he just needs a break. a healthy, peaceful break that doesn’t involve reaching too far or doing something he might regret. he needs to plug in and recharge, to lay it all out on the table and sort through his troubles, to piece himself back together and get back to normal.

hanta hugs him tighter.

and now his resolve and control is cracking and spilling out, through his veins and his bones, through his heart and his eyes. he holds onto hanta like his life depends on it, letting it all out, finally giving in, finally letting go. distraction wasn’t the answer; he could only forget for so long, as more things piled on until it crushed him.

sometimes the world is too much, too loud.

shouto cries into hanta’s shoulder until there's nothing left. until he feels at peace. until he falls asleep in hanta’s arms.

he dreams of hanta with cherry blossoms in his hair, that same glittering grin on his face.

—

*drops this and runs a thousand miles in the other direction”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825064

#seroroki #seroroki writing #seroroki brainrot #seroroki for the win #minor angst #very minor angst #hurt/comfort #minor hurt tho #more like todoroki’s just super overwhelmed #comfort #comfort but it’s sero trying to distract todoroki instead of letting him work out his feelings #they come around in the end tho #hanta sero #sero is so soft so kind #sero is a good boyfriend #todoroki shouto #i finally started spelling it shouto instead of shoto cause that just seems right even though it really doesn’t matter #todoroki thinks distractions work for solving all his problems #light angst? this isnt angst? i dont think? idk #spiderman sero #two idiots in love #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha rarepair #rarepair #rarepairship #hop on my seroroki bandwagon folks #do you think this is enough tags

[reversecreek]

ziggy strutting up to me like this gif as i hold up a crucifix n say begone begone vile beast BEGONE from my vicinity i will NOT buy u a happy meal wretched little boy...... some live action rp to start this off..... and SCENE. takes my bow. his pinterest is here n his playlist is here.

* dylan minnette, cis male + he/him  | you know ziggy benson, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of his life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to hand crushed by a mallet by 100 gecs like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole glitching televisions impaled by remotes, nonchalantly texting the babes as a stove fire ravages your kitchen & cartoons turned up so loud it fries your eardrums thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 24th, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY;

from the second ziggy ws born he didnt stop screaming. within the first hours of his life he gave his father an ear splitting headache tht prompted him to say “that uncooked chicken’s fucking demonic” n joke abt popping “it” in the oven to roast. when this understandably received disgusted glances frm the nursing staff he ws all like “jeez alright alright i’m kiddin i’m kiddin can’t a guy have a joke around here?” n i feel like that sets up their dynamic so nice n sweetly <3 (sarcasm) (lips pursed)

frm day one he ws just honestly a rly hyperactive child. when he laughed he’d shriek it out at the absolute top of his lungs bc he’d just get this huge giddy surge of energy all the way to the very tips of his toes n it’d hit him like a shock from a fork in a plug socket. their parenting style ws rly just lazy tbh.... they didn’t have much time for disciplining him. ziggy’s mum wld halfheartedly be like “ziggy quiet now....” n then go bk to nuking whatever vegetables she’d defrosted until they tasted like dinosaur bones..... this wld not make any difference in ziggy’s behaviour

his father rly just took the stance that it ws ziggy’s mum’s job to discipline him or raise him in general which is. 🔪 please enter the 20th century sir.... get ur noggin sorted..... needless to say he wsn’t much involved in ziggy’s life n honestly generally jst didn’t like him. ziggy was a responsibility he didn’t want (accidental prregnancy) n in his literal words once said (blatantly while ziggy ws watching cartoons on the sofa) tht ziggy just “harshes my fucking vibe a lil bit”. 

he wound up leaving when ziggy was six ish.... ziggy watched thru a crack in the blinds as his mum tried to grab at his jacket to make him stay as he lugged out his suitcase..... she even tried to physically cling onto him so he cldn’t get in his ride bt the door wound up slamming n she sat on her knees watching the lights pull out the drive n even long after they were gone. ziggy didn’t rly kno what to do abt this (emotions hd never been smthn he particularly understood, his own or how to handle other people’s) so after watching her fr 5 minutes he went out n gently shook her shoulder n was like. mom come inside u look weird out here. FKGHSFHGSFHKGFHKSGSFGHK. this was him trying to show love <3

ziggy’s mum is like.... rly relationship dependent. she gets all her self worth n validation frm whtever man she’s dating.... so she went on this like.... wild rampage of jst. dating a very large string of men. they ranged frm dreadfully boring to downright awful n were always below her standards. ziggy quite literally hated. all of them. every last one. even one that tried to b nice to him by offering to help him do his math homework when he ws 13 (bc ziggy was struggling a lot w this) n in response ziggy loudly barked until the man gt scared n stumbled backwards into a dining chair on his way out of the room. KGHFHKSJHFJGSHKFG

while him n his mum hv a kind of strained situation (there’s a great deal of resentment from her end n kind of. blaming him fr “driving his father away” n it’s never spoken abt bt it’s very much Present in their relationship n honestly ziggy kind of resents her too fr bringing some of the men into their lives tht she did) there is. love there...... sometimes she’ll like. reach out to cup the back of his head n he’ll duck his head away n be like wtf are u doing checking me for lice? n she’ll jst smile like :)...... knowing that’s how he loves. KHSFGKJGHKSFGFHKGSHF. ugh we love men who know how to process their emotions yesssss king give us nothing <3

(abuse n violence tw) idk i won’t go into it too much bt even tho ziggy’s constantly like 🙄 when his mum shows him affection he wld quite literally. kill fr her n almost did one time.......... narrowly avoided getting charged w assault when one of her bfs was drunk n evil n he went into protective mode.... idk he. has gone thru a lot n seen a lot n so has his mum. they look after each other the best they kno how despite the negatives in their relationship.... it’s complex <3

literally got in trouble so. often. at school. he ws always hyperactive (undiagnosed adhd n also probably not helped by the fact he ws jst allowed to eat sm junk food w 459729457952 sugar percentage all hours of the day) bt when his dad left n like. dealing w acting out so severely at home where his mum’s bfs were concerned it rly escalated..... i jst think he ws like. literally a terror. probably got suspended so many times. maybe even was permanently expelled before he cld get his diploma honestly. set off a firework in school hallway. smthn absolutely reckless n stupid.

hs hd a bunch of jobs mostly in the service industry...... usually ends up getting fired.... worked at mcdonald’s fr a while n then one day he went in rly high n ate three cheeseburgers in front of a weeping child who hd ordered one.... promptly gt fired bt he ws like yo fuck this place i’m quitting n threw off his apron n was like who’s with me??? who’s joining the union??????? to the rest of the staff n they were all mostly like >_> <_< before security approached to forcibly remove him n he grabbed a cookie n crammed it into his mouth in rebellion mid frantic n frankly possessed escape.....

in terms of wht’s going on to this day w his living situation i honestly think he still lives w his mum. i can just see this. KHGFSKGHSFGKSFGH. in like. a ramshackle bungalow in delphinus heights.... having said tht she probably isn’t. there tht often nw she’s dating her latest man (jonas, somehow always sweaty no matter the weather, wears too many gold rings n smells like shoe cleaner) who owns a car dealership n thinks he’s a kingpin for it. still home sometimes tho.

PERSONALITY:

ziggy spends his days working shifts at an ice cream parlour (one he got fired from once bc he broke in high n ate sm ice cream he was lay on the floor in the bk pants unbuttoned stomach bulging sm calling himself garfield saying he had too much lasagna. they hired him bk tho bc he has a harem of middle aged women who lust after him n it brings customers....) or like. cruising parties...... setting off fireworks.... skateboarding...... breaking into abandoned buildings.... filming stupid jackass type tricks....... playing guitar hero...... getting drunk at the arcade..... sometimes busking fr cash in a tossed dwn hat (very badly) (thinks he’s sick at it however)........ or alternatively...... fucking chicks aha...... fuck.......... not exclusive to chicks tho just had to sound despicable bt :smirk: he’s bi Baby.... 

i won’t lie he’s kind of an asshole................ never rly was taught properly how to empathise with ppl so like he struggles w that....... sometimes he’ll say smthn tht’s genuinely just quite mean n doesn’t need to be said but he doesn’t rly realise it’s like bad. n he’s like. what’s the deal haha why are u mad...... 

fuckboy. genuinely jst. rly summarises it well. insatiable. sleeps around wildly. will say he’ll call u back n then will not call u back. lies like oh babe i’m moving to france tomorrow fuckkkkkkkkk sucks so bad that we can only have one night but let’s make it special yeah? tits? n then they’ll see him casually skating past them on the street a week later n be like well clearly he’s not in france. ziggy doesn’t care.

calls himself a “genius inventor” bc he once gutted a vintage analog television n made it into a fish tank. it literally leaked water a bit. still convinced he is a literal visionary never seen before never done again. he’s like i’m on the brink of greatness. i’m the next einstein.

has a bit of a god complex where he thinks he’s the sexiest person in any given room n it’s kind of funny bc like dylan minnette’s sexy to me bt tht isn’t a widespread opinion n ur being a bit bold ziggy...... regardless has confidence thru the roof tht isn’t rly deterred by anything or anyone.....

dyes his hair 49729572459752 colours every colour under the sun. sometimes all at once jst different patches. wears lots of tie dye tshirts n basketball shorts even tho he doesn’t play basketball. rly colourful sneakers. just lots of loud colours tbh. often wears a paper clip in his ear as an earring. pierced it himself. someone probably recorded him doing it fr his insta story. probably was drunk.

drives a vespa around tht is baby blue with pastel yellow polka dots. it has lots of tin cans attached to the back by string like on those cars when u just got married. he did not just get married. u can hear him arriving frm over a street away.

almost never pays fr anything bt is always like “yo it’s my treat” n then either dine n dashes or u have to pay

his idea of romance is nuking a hot pocket as breakfast in bed n then complaining he’s hungry n eating half

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

fuckboy antics: he’s insatiable. rabid. notorious. mayb they fkd n he didn’t call........ jst completely ghosted........ mayb they were genuinely into him n he honestly built up kind of false pretences abt them having a connection n then jst dipped..... cld  b good fr angst n drama <3 someone please egg his house he deserves it <3

high skl heathens: locals tht were equally chaotic in hs..... just picture him having this group of misfits tht were like so loud n always getting up to no good doing god knows what god knows where.... probably gt arrested together breaking into an old abandoned hospital one time........... rly just doing the absolute most at all times............. probably so loud........... drinking n smoking far too much.....

an attempted teenage relationship: i’m like. tentative to even put this one bc i just feel like ziggy wld be a shit bf. KJHGFSHGFHGSFHGFKGHFKSG. but. maybe it ended in drama.....i’d say this wld probably be a girl bc in hs he probably ws less open w his sexuality... maybe ziggy cheated on her or she cheated on him................ angst........ strife.... we love it we love it........ i crash my car into the bridge... i don’t care... i love it... sudden icona pop moment me stood on stage singing karaoke.... it’s just gone 7am as i write this so i apologise if this is losing any. coherency. smiles so sexy....

last adolescent plot i swear: i picture when ziggy was expelled he somehow amassed a large group to protest w signs outside the school fr him to be accepted back. it didn’t work. he threw a party when he received news he hadn’t got back in anyway. maybe ur muse was involved or helped organise this or was violently opposed.

enemies: ppl who just. don’t like ziggy bc like honestly that’s so fair n valid. KJHGFKGHKSFGHSGKHSFHG..... mayb he like. exploded their mailbox one time when they were younger. mayb he skated over their toes. mayb he fucked their bitch aha fuck................. (joking btw) (don’t condone misogyny) (hashtag feminism). cld be fun to play around w

fwb: probably hs a few of these......... mayb they’re cool w things being no strings attached n lax n at ease w ziggy being the mess tht he is in general..... mayb they want more bt ziggy cannot provide...... mayb they literally don’t get on at all n this is their only mutual ground n they keep coming bk to each other.... :smirk:..... whatever u Farncy....

maybe ziggy’s mum dated ur muse’s dad at one point???? we can discuss this if u think it fits..... cld be fun to play around w............

coworkers: past or present r fun..... mayb they were like WTFFF is this guy fking ONNN at a past job (he’s had a few in the food service industry so pretty open in tht area)... mayb they work w him at the ice cream parlour now..... cn discuss the dynamic probably wld be dependent on the muse involved fr like. how he’d act n stuff.... :yum:

#irvingintro #abuse tw #violence tw #believe tht's all....

[themattgirl]

Hii!!! Idk if ur taking requests but if u r can u do one where the reader is like really sick or injured and Harry takes care of her??? And u can make a scenario outta that...Like eternal fluff??

Notes: Harry and Y/N are a couple, but they don’t live together. Y/N’s stepfather is an alcoholic who tends to violence when drunk. It’s not the first time he hurts her, but it’s the first time for Harry to know&see it.

Harry was woken by the loud ringing of the doorbell. Instead of getting out of bed to open it, he decides to ignore it and close his eyes again. He tries to fall back asleep, but the ringing just won’t stop. He stretches an arm out to take his phone from the nightstand, presses the home button and sighs as he sees what time it is.

Who the hell is on the door at fucking two in the morning, he thinks as he eventually gets up and strolls to the front door, because it might be important if someone bothers to make the way to him at this hour.

“Y/N?” Harry is surprised as he looks at the person standing there, “What are you doing here?”

He eyes her top to toe, “What happened? Wait, come in first.�� He gently wraps his fingers around his girlfriend’s wrist, pulling her into the house, across the corridor and up the stairs until they reach the bathroom. He makes her sit down on the edge of the bathtub and kneels down in front of her after taking out the first aid kit and placing it on the floor next to him.

“What’s got you bleeding like this, huh?” he asks as he takes out everything he needs. When he doesn’t receive an answer to his question he looks up at her. Her face clearly reveals that she’s not ready to talk yet, so he says, “I’ll take care of you first, then you tell me, yeah?”

Not waiting for a response he takes the antiseptic and warns her that “it might burn a little” before he cleans the wound on her forearm. Y/N hisses at the stinging pain, so Harry blows cold air on it making it less hurtful for her. “Sorry, but it needs to be clean. Bacteria and all that.” he explains as if Y/N had complained about it. He continues wiping the blood away, being particularly gentle near the injury itself.

“I’m almost done,” he keeps telling her in attempt to ease her, “You’re doing great, holding so still f’me. It’ll be over before you know it. Just don’t look at it, look at me. You can play with my hair with your other hand. I know you like that, do it.”

Y/N feels like a little child because of his words, but does as he says nonetheless. And it helps, it really does. Wrapping a curl around her finger and letting it go again to see it jump back into place makes her pay less attention to the pain and focusing on something way better instead.

“See? That was it,” he tells her and throws the bloodied cotton into the bin. “Now I just have to bandage it. Hold your arm up like this, would you?” he positions it so that he can easily do the job.

Harry uses his soft and soothing voice as he speaks - the one he uses when he talks to little kids - making it impossible for Y/N not to act like one. She just nods with big eyes looking down at him.

“Good girl,” he smiles at her and puts a plaster over the scar and begins to roll the bandage around her arm.

Once he has finished the task, he places a little peck onto the covered wound and stands up. He puts everything back in place and takes Y/N’s hands in his, indicating her to get on her feet too, and so she does.

“Now we’ll take you to bed and you can talk if you want.”

As they snuggle up under the thick covers - Y/N pressed to his chest - she finally finds her words again.

“I actually didn’t come here for you to take care of my arm, Harry,” she tells him with a quiet voice.

As much as Harry wants to give her the time she needs, he wants to know “What happened?” much more.

“I came here to ask you something,” she ignores his question, but Harry didn’t really mind because now he’s curious.

“Ask me, then.”

Y/N draws a little heart on his chest with her finger before she speaks, “Can I move in here?”

This has him surprised, definitely. They had talked about it a while ago. Harry had suggested it, but Y/N wanted to stay with her diseased mother and her stepfather. Well, actually just her mother, but they came in double pack and she couldn’t do anything about it. Y/N never really liked him, she thought he radiates bad energy, but she tried to at least be kind to him, even though he wasn’t. But now it’s just disgusting to live with him and honestly, she doesn’t know why she’s still there even after her mother had passed away two weeks ago.

“Yeah, of course! Definitely, I’d love that. But how come the change of mind?” Harry wonders.

“There’s nothing holding me there now that my mom is–“ she is cut off by him and she’s glad about it, even though she usually hates being interrupted. This time, it was more than okay.

“Yes, right. You can definitely move in. We can get your stuff in the next few days.”

“Uhm, yeah. . . Actually, I don’t want to go back there anymore,” she says, still tracing up and down his chest and not looking at him.

“Oh. Did something happen? Wait– The scar is from your stepdad, right?” Harry didn’t need a confirmation before asking the next question, “What did he do?”

Before she can change her mind, Y/N tells him what happened. “He was drunk again and saying really not-nice things about mom. You know I can always control my temper, but not when it’s about her. Especially not now. So I kind of yelled at him, and I was very rude. Then he took an empty beer bottle and hit me with it and it broke at some point. But let’s not talk about that right now. So, can you pick–” she tries to change the topic, but was immediately interrupted by Harry. Again. This time, she didn’t like it, but she still let him speak.

“Woah, no, wait. He hit you more than once? So your arm’s not the only part of your body that’s injured,“ he says it more like a conclusion than a question.

“It’s not that bad, really. It’s just–“

“Show me!” Harry interrupts Y/N. This seems to be the new type of conversation they’re gonna have.

“Baby, it’s nothing.” She hopes the nickname will do better than the poor argument.

Harry, though, is not so easily soothed - at least not if it’s about his girl’s health - and pulls her up and onto his lap, making her straddle him. He lifts her shirt up and over her head, revealing skin covered in blue and purple. Harry gasps in shock at the sight and a quiet Oh my God escapes his mouth as he realises something. “That’s why you never wanted to take your shirt off when we had sex.”

He starts running his fingertips gently from one bruise to the other. To the other. At first he thinks You should’ve told me and Why didn’t you tell me? but it quickly changed into “I’m so stupid. I should’ve asked you about it. I should’ve known something was wrong. As a good boyfriend, I mean. But maybe I’m not. God, how didn’t I see you were suffering so much? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I–“

Harry wanted to ask her how she wants to move in with him, the person that can’t even protect her like a proper boyfriend would. But the selfish part of him - the part that wanted to have her by his side, all to himself, even though he isn’t the best boyfriend she could’ve chosen, he’d try to be – was bigger and stopped him from doing it. He was afraid if he’d ask she’d change her mind and he would have to continue living in this big house all alone. And maybe even in this big world, if she was to break up with him.

“Hey, hey, no. Stop. Don’t blame yourself for something that a cruel person did and a coward didn’t tell. This is absolutely not your fault and I will not let you call my boyfriend stupid. I did everything to hide it from you, you could’ve never figured it out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she hesitates before letting out the next words, “I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” he asks incredulously. “You know what’s embarrassing? A man that can’t control himself to the point where he hurts innocent girls, that’s embarrassing.”

Harry’s anger starts to grow bigger and bigger until Y/N’s little delicate hands cup his face tenderly, thumbs softly stroking his cheek. Y/N really knows how to take care of Harry’s feelings and control them.

“Listen, baby. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, I’m done with this. All I want is to be with you. I don’t want to worry about him, I wanna worry about where to fit all my stuff. And which side of the bed is gonna be mine. And how early I have to wake up so I can make you proper breakfast because I know you never do that on your own. Can we please just concentrate on that kinda stuff? No more negativity, yes?”

Harry was so furious about his girlfriend’s stepfather, still is. But he has to admit, hearing those words from Y/N makes the butterflies in his chest go wild. He tries to suppress it - no I’m angry! - but a smile takes over his face, replacing the frown. To hide it he takes one of her hands that are still resting on his cheeks in his to move it closer to his mouth so he can press a kiss on her knuckles. “No more negativity,” he agrees with Y/N.

For a few minutes they just stay like this. Y/N on Harry’s lap, looking into each other’s eyes. The only sound in the room are their steady breaths that started matching.

“So. . .,” Y/N stretches the word. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Harry needs no more than that to have his hands on her back, pulling her as close as possible, chests pressing against each other as he connects his lips with hers. First her upper lip, then the bottom, sucking and biting it until his tongue finally finds hers.

•

•

•

“Did I wake you?” Y/N asks Harry half an hour later.

They took their previous position in again. Lying in the middle of the bed, Y/N’s head resting on Harry’s chest, Harry’s arms wrapped around his Y/N. This time, naked.

“No, don’t worry about it, baby,” Harry lies. Y/N would’ve believed him, if only she didn’t know him so well.

“Of course I did.” She gives him a light slap on the chest.

Harry chuckles. Y/N feels it under her head, how his chest moves. “Why do you ask if you already know the answer?”

“I was gonna apologies if you would’ve said yes.”

“Apologies then!”

Y/N lifts her head a bit so she can face Harry. “You didn’t say yes, so no.”

“What if I wasn’t lying? Maybe I wasn’t asleep.”

“Huh,” Y/N rises an eyebrow. “What would you possibly be doing at 2 am, hm?”

“Masturbating.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she hits him again, this time a little harder. “Harry!”

“What?” Harry asks amused.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Oh, don’t you act all innocent now when you literally just led us to sex half an hour ago.”

Y/N buries her face in the crook of Harry’s neck to hide her rosy cheeks of embarrassment. “Stop,” she stretches the word.

Harry laughs. He finds it truly endearing how shy Y/N gets whenever he picks at her naughtiness. How adorable, he thinks.

Actually, to Harry everything Y/N does - if it’s dancing in the kitchen with just his t-shirt on or making a phone call or even just sleeping - is adorable. Even when they’re watching a movie together and Y/N is so concentrated while staring at the screen, Harry just can’t take his eyes off of her. Sometimes he wonders what he ever did in his whole life that was so good that God thinks he deserves having her as his girlfriend, or in his surroundings at all. Especially, when he made a mistake that he was well aware of.

“Did you?” Y/N asks quietly and pulls him out of his dreaming.

“What?” Harry asks back in confusion, already having forgotten what they were talking about from all his thinking of how much of a blessing his girlfriend actually is.

“Masturbate, I mean,” she clarifies even quieter so that it’s harder for Harry to hear even though she speaks right below his ear. He has to remember what their conversation was about to make out what she just said.

Eventually, it comes back to his mind and he laughs a little. Can she be any cuter? “No,” he answers her question.

“Oh,” is all she lets out, sounding a little. . . disappointed?

Yes, obviously she can be cuter.

“Why’re you so sad about it?” Harry teases, knowing damn well what he is doing to Y/N.

“‘M not!” she denies a little too loud to sound honest.

“Yes, you are. You wanted me to say yes so you can imagine me lying in bed stroking myself. Or,” his eyes widen as realisation hits him, “you already did imagine it.”

Instead of saying something back, Y/N starts kissing Harry’s neck, even nibbling a little.

“Y/N (Y/M/N) Y/L/N! When did you become so dirty-minded?” he asks in surprise, positive surprise.

“Since you started fucking it into me,” she whispers into his ear and gently bites down on his earlobe.

Oh my God. Harry’s mouth is wide open. He is shocked and so turned on. He’s never seen her like this. And if Y/N is honest, she is quite surprised herself.

“That’s so hot,” Harry quietly says more to himself, but Y/N hears it and smirks before sucking a love bite below his ear.

“We just had sex,” he reminds her, already short of breath.

“Well, I could go for one more round. Or ten, you don’t?”

Not waiting for his response, she moves her hand down his chest, over his defined stomach and grabs his half-hard dick.

“Of course.”

“Then kiss me, you fool!”

Harry doesn’t need to hear that twice, so he grabs her face and places his lips on hers.

Y/N runs her thumb over the slit of his cock, making his dick twitch.

“Should maturbate more often if it gets you like this,” he says before reconnecting their lips.

“Don’t need to. I live here now,” she speaks in between kisses. “You can just fuck me instead.”

“Oh, fuck,” Harry whispers and has her straddling him in just seconds.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles filth #harry styles drabble #harry styles x reader #harry styles request #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry chats #fluff writing #fluff prompts #smut writing #smut prompts #smut #fluff

[richietoaster]

Review/Reaction of IT Chapter Two

Let’s just start right off the bat and let me just say that Bill Hader better get a fucking award for his performance.

Alright. Here we go y’all. im trying to stay in order with what happened but so much happened in the movie that my brain is just all over the place so excuse me while i try to form words

UNDER THE CUT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS

• first opening scene is a fucking LOT okay like i sobbed my eyes out and it was just not cool. adrian and his boyfriend? CUTE AF. Him getting brutally beat up and then killed by Pennywise while Don just watches? NOT CUTE AF

• Mike is a precious boy and I love him so. He cares about his friends so much holy shit. they all get mad at him for lying to them tho.But he only did it to protect them. Mike knew some SHIT(tm) our boy is so smart?? I’m glad they kept to his original storyline

• Older Bill gave himself so much shit this film and i just felt so bad. like we know it isnt ur fault okay?? We know you loved your brother, stop putting yourself down. also?? him becoming protective over dean? please stop my aching heart. 

• Jessica Chastain owns my whole heart and she can kick my ass anyday. She plays Bev so well and captures young bev’s personality so well. her scene with mrs kersh was very weird. i knew the second she ran naked in the hall i’d be seeing some weird fucking shit okay 

• Jay Ryan could kick me and I would personally thank him like?? wow what a man. He immediately recognizes bev when he first sees her and im just?? im happy. so many hidden new kids on the block reference and it had me fucking rolling in my grave

• JAMES FUCKING RANSONE MY DUDE OH LORD okay listen. he gives off young eddie’s panic and chaotic energy so perfectly i felt like i was watching him as an adult, who just never grew up. I think thats what he was going for honestly. He played eddie SO FUCKING WELL 

• I’m so sad about stan. THats all you need to know okay. I’ll talk about his letter later on in this. Stan deserved better. that’s all. 

• if you are not a fan of vomit you’re not gonna enjoy richie tozier. literally any time something bad happens hes just like ah shit here we go again *vomits* and honestly? that made me laugh. like hes just like oh shit something is happening let.. let me just.. no no its fine guys ill catch up.. EHBWFIJHDFSIJ no okay but bill hader stole the fucking show. his acting was phenomenal and,, again,, i’ll add more onto that later. 

• richie scares the shit out of dean. because he thinks hes pennywise. but can you blame him? the kid just. stared at him all creepy and shit. but its so funny. the losers make fun of him bc he doesnt know his own lines from his acts and richies just like “I dont write my own material” and eddies just like “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT” dead. goodbye.

• Young losers were still my favorite part honestly. Eddie kept bouncing that stupid ball in stan’s face in the clubhouse and i was waiting for him to get punched in the face tbh. That didn’t even seem like eddie, that was Jack’s energy bursting through the seams lmfao

• young eddie runs into a fucking box and shrieks and if that isn’t me idk ewhdfiajksjdoi 

• THE FUCKING. HAMMOCK. SCENE. okay listen to me. thats gay. hammocks are now gay. gays only. gay interacts only. the bickering between reddie had me in TEARS. eddie kept kicking at his face and just?? casually??? lays on him when richie wont move?? 

• stan’s fucking shower cap ehfdiujasdiosa and then richie being like “nobodys afraid of spiders stanley okay” and eddie slowly removes his because he cares what richie thinks more than spiders ok

• a flashback from after they defeated IT in the first move with reddie “eddie youve been gone for 24 hours your face is most likely on a milk carton by now” “shut up richie” 

• yong Richie has me weak af this whole movie, like always. just getting on Eddie’s case. HE PINES SO HARD OH Y GOD Like wow my sweet boy is so fucking in love ouch. which?? BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT??

• THE ARCADE SCENE?? he checks out the kid standing next to him and tries to get him to hang out more and then the other kid tells him to stop being weird because he’s not gay, too, and then uses the F slur. richie was just so hurt. paul bunyun scene happens after that and hes just like “I just shit my pants” and i cried. 

• pennywise screaming “lets play truth or dare, you wouldnt pick truth! you dont want them to know your secret” gave off the same energy as eddie’s leper blowjob scene from the book. same energy. do with that as you will. 

• they had some flashbacks that included pennywise and im not sure if this was before or after they had defeated IT in the first movie but i interpreted it as after and if thats the case... hes supposed to be dead. but now thinking back on it, it was probably just more scenes before they put pennywise to rest for 27 years. 

• young richie went to the kissing bridge after that and we ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THERE. fucking.. r + e :((( although we don’t see him carving the E. but reddie is canon so suck toes antis

• stephen king pretty much being like “I know u and ur endings really do suck” to bill when he comes to buy his bike was so fucking funny. it almost felt like a self insert lmfao. ALSO HIM MAKING BILL PAY 300 BUCKS FOR THE BIKE BC HE KNEW HE COULD AFFORD IT? iconic. 

• richie and eddie opening the door to the dog had me laughing. pennywise was just mocking them at that point. they’d be such good dog dads and now im sad

• i was really confused because they added part of stan’s bar mitzvah?? like it wasn’t even the same from the first movie. like they should’ve just put the deleted scene in from ch. 1 and then added that part. thats one of my very few complaints. im slowly hiding them in here. 

• henry bowers was kinda irrelevant in this honestly but thank you eddie for stabbing him and richie for killing him for trying to kill mike yall heroes 

• BEVS BLOOD SCENE ?? CORRESPONDING WITH BENS BURIED ALIVE SCENE? poetic cinema. 10/10

• the big fight really disappointed me in all honesty. but i think thats because andy said he cut so much from there. i expect it to be better with the director’s cut

• eddie saving richie and then immediately being stabbed by pennywise’s claw? IM DEPRESSED.

• “Rich! rich, i did it! i think i killed him!” Our boy was so happy with himself :( 

• eddie’s last words WERE NOT “i fucked your mom”. he was talking to richie and you can hear them talking while the rest are preparing to end pennywise. so im hoping we get that as a deleted scene. 

• richie goes back to help finish pennywise but when he goes to check on eddie.. he’s dead. ://// and bev is like “richie, come on, honey.. im sorry” and richie does not want to believe him. he grabs and hugs eddie so tight i swear i could feel that hug from the audience. 

• another thing im disappointed in and am sliding in is some of the animations? Like. fucking weird. but okay. luckily i didn’t care too much.  

• THE SOB that richie lets out when he holds eddie really hurt my fucking soul jesus christ just kill me

• the losers try cheering him up after and like. thats their friend too but you can just totally tell he’s crying in a different type of grief. THAT WAS HIS FIRST FUCKING LOVE. 

• they all remember after and thats really important to me okay

• stan writes letters and its spoken outloud while the other losers get little montages of what theyre doing with their life after the battle. Richie goes back to the kissing bridge and recarves- YES RECARVES AND YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE THE E BEFORE HE DOES- he recarves the E and while doing it, stan’s voice says “be proud of who you are” and im fucking cry ibg okay

• in the end, i give this movie a 7/10 rating. although some of the animations were weird and some of the flashbacks had pennywise in it (like hes supposed to be currently dead but ok... maybe nightmares??) the actors were PHENOMENAL and the chemistry between older richie and older eddie made me so happy. my ship is canon. but im still sad about stan and eddies death. 

• ignoring canon in 3.. 2.. 1.. now 

#it chapter 2 #it chapter two spoilers #IT CHAPTER TWO #it chapter 2 spoilers #IT SPOILERS #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #stanley uris

[prettylittlebrownskingyal]

🎂☆ Jason Todd Birthday Week ☆ Aug 16th - JASON’S BIRTHDAY

Dickface Grayson: what do u want for ur bday baby bro?

RedNerd: a big booty hoe

Spawn: same

Wiffle: sksks DAMIAN

The family group chat is usually rather annoying. No one sleeps and no one has boundaries or tact so there’s always three hundred messages and long ass tangents (courtesy of Tim, Damian and sometimes Duke) for Jason to read over his morning coffee.

It’s a big thorn in his ass.

But it’s routine. He’s grown to expect it like he anticipates sunrise, it’s become one of those things on his mental checklist that he can never forget. Those morons keep finding more and more opportunities to weasel their way into his life and it’s so goddamn irritating that he loves it.

Which is why the lack of notifications he wakes up to makes his skin itch in an unscratchable way. His first instinct is to assume something’s wrong because there’s nothing beside that one question from Dick. But as he replies, Damian and Stephanie’s responses follow immediately— he finds relief in knowing their fine but his confusion grows.

He realizes he’s bored.

He has a three day stretch of no plans and he’s so freaking bored he kind of wants to claw his eyes out.

Dickface Grayson: i told y’all asking him wouldn’t work

Dickface Grayson: i. told. y’all.

Timbits: stop with the y’alls

Wiffle: y? cuz it reminds u of connor?

Timbits: fuck off

Wiffle: bite me

Babs: I say, we go with the original plan

Duke☀️: but how are we going to get him to go willingly go to a party?

Spawn: we could knock him out

Timbits: NO

Spawn: and just carry him there

Timbits: Damian I swear to GOD

Dickface Grayson: why can’t we do the surprise party

Wiffle: cuz he’d hate it

Wiffle: and he’d kill us

🐥Cass: let’s just get him a cupcake and call it a day

Spawn: i second that

Spawn: or we could get him an escort

Babs: DAMIAN

Spawn: put it on father’s card

Timbits: as much as I would LOVE to see that

Timbits: we can’t

🐥Cass: add it to the list for next yr dames

Babs: I have work to do, you guys plzzz come up with something.

Dickface Grayson: good luck babs

Dickface Grayson: I say party

Wiffle: i’m going with Cass and the cupcake

🐥Cass: ^^

Dickface Grayson: Damian I see you typing. Don’t say it.

Timbits: he’s Jason guys. he doesn’t want the attention of having to blow out a candle and listen to us butcher happy bday

Timbits: we need something he’d like

Wiffle: let’s just give him his presents

Wiffle: they’re all books anyway

🐥Cass: books and cupcakes

Spawn: no that’s stupid

🐥Cass: ur stupid

Spawn: ur stupider

Wiffle: Tim’s stupidest

Timbits: blocked

Dickface Grayson: CHILDREN

Dickface Grayson: babs will murder us if we don’t come up with something

Timbits: I mean…. she’ll muder you

Spawn: muder

🐥Cass: muder

Wiffle: STUPIDEST

Jason calls Alfred, texts Bruce and leaves a long winded voicemail for Barbra. She replies with three smiley face emojis and then a voice note of her reminding him that his has three days off for his birthday specifically for resting, to stop worrying about everybody else. She’s stern and sure and he knows it’s pointless to argue.

Alfred had been vague too and Bruce hadn’t replied— with all his sources dry, Jason’s left pouting in his apartment, bored out of his mind. He keeps opening and closing his apps to see if there’s been updates.

There isn’t.

RedNerd: why are you guys so AWOL

Timbits: we’re giving u a break hbd loser

RedNerd: shady

Timbits:🙃

Timbits: i’m disowning Steph

RedNerd: i’m on her side whatever it is

Timbits: traitor

RedNerd: 🙃

Jason sighs languidly. He flicks his phone to the side and watches it bounce off the couch. There’s a full five seconds in which he allows himself to release his boredom in a long, guttural groan and then he’s diving after it to check the screen. It’s not broken. He resolutes himself to reading as all else fails.

Timbits: Jay’s getting antsy

Dickface Grayson: ughh

Wiffle: what r we gonna do?

Spawn: yk

Wiffle: Damian

Spawn: shut up Brown, I was going to say that Duke had an idea.

Wiffle: oh

Wiffle: what’s ur idea sunshine?

Duke☀️: I never volunteered

Wiffle: I’m starting to like the escort thing so plz

Duke☀️: fine

Duke☀️: I’ll invite him to the manor to play PUBG

Duke☀️: no party

Duke☀️: and then we do family dinner and have Alfred make a cake

Dickface Grayson: that’s simple enough

Wiffle: and Alfie makes the cake he’ll have no choice but to accept it

Babs: good work team

Duke☀️: team?

Babs: Good Work Sunshine ☀️💛💛

He’s cleaning his kitchen for the third time when his phone vibrates. A plate is almost dropped in his haste to get to it.

Duke☀️: PUBG. Pizza. Manor?

RedNerd: yessss

The manor’s dead silent when he steps into the threshold. Alfred slips out of the kitchen to bid him a quick hello, hands him two boxes of pizza (one extra cheese and the other sausage and peppers) and shoos him up the stairs.

“You look like shit,” is what Duke says in greeting. He already has the controllers and television set up. Jason feels a little like he’s found bliss.

“I’m losing it, man. No patrol and shit for three days? I’m going to die. Again.”

“Yeah cuz I’m about to kick your ass. Hand me my pizza and sit down.”

“It’s on, sunshine.”

Dickface Grayson: Duke has him in the den. we’re jist gonna ease in one by one. Alfred’ll bring the cake, we’ll do presents and then it’s done

Wiffle: sounds good chief

Timbits: is my pizza here?

Spawn: no one ordered for you

Duke☀️: yh it’s in the kitchen.

Timbits: right, expect me first.

They play four rounds until Jason’s spent most of his pent up energy on killing opponents. Duke gets better every time he plays and he works well with Jason’s style. It reminds him that they should team up more for patrol.

Damian slinks in on his toes right as they start the fifth. He’s got a box of pizza balanced in one hand and Alfred the cat tucked under the other.

“Todd,” is all he says before plopping down on the opposing sofa.

Tim wanders in after, barefooted and rumpled. He opens his mouth to say something, spots Damian and snaps it shut. He makes a noise that reminds Jason of a busted engine. He doesn’t know what that’s about, he doesn’t want to know either.

“Timbo, take this.” He passes him the controller and yanks his skinny frame down with one arm. “Play for me so I can eat.”

“Cheating,” Duke intones.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want to.” They all visibly stiffen at the words. He continues, speaking quickly around a mouthful of pizza. “And also. You guys have been really weird all day. What have you been up to?”

The response is a three tiered chorus of, “Nothing.”

“The group chat was dead quiet.”

Tim is stuttering something out when Damian drops a “I wish it was,” under his breath.

Nobody says anything. He chews, swallows and waits for them to fill the silence.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you guys have another group chat?”

“No.”

“Why would we?”

“Yes.”

Jason’s braces himself to be as offended as he possibly can when three things happen in the space of a minute.

Tim throws a slice of pizza at Damian while Duke ducks between the cushions. The ensuing fight is so loud Jason can’t hear himself think.

Dick and Cass come stumbling through the doors with Stephanie tailing behind them— their all singing “happy birthday.” Alfred— bless him— is following along with a small sponge cake adorned with lit candles. He makes it one foot into the room before there’s a loud splatter, a scream and shouted curse.

There’s a controller in the cake.

Dick and Steph are on the ground trying to pull a shocked Damian and Tim apart while Duke sinks further between the upholstery.

“Jason,” Cass crosses around the disaster zone. She offers him a hand and gives him a firm shake. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” He’s still stunned, gaping down at her like a confused goldfish.

“These are for you.”

It’s a pile of hard copy classics secured by a gold ribbon. A tiny bite size cupcake sits on top.

“Thanks Cass. I really appreciate it.”

She hums, casts a glare at Damian and sways out of the room.

“Well,” Alfred snaps. “I’m going to clean this buttercream off of me while you all fix this ...mess. Master Jason, it appears I owe you a cake.”

“It’s fine, Alfie.”

Dick slams his fist to the floor, fuming. “ It’s not.”

“It’s ok—“

“Jay we’ve been trying to plan something special for you all day. This was the best we could do— just us, just a cake and some presents— and we found a way to screw it up.”

“That’s what the other group chat was for.”

Tim chimes in, rolling out of the chokehold Damian has him in.

He sees the guilt hanging around the dropped corners of their mouths like anchors. So that’s why they were so unattached, they were just being annoying amongst themselves.

“This is….it’s great actually. That,” he points to Damian on the ground. “Was quality entertainment. Duke is still a PUBG genius, which it was nice to be reminded of and this—,” he raises the books and cupcake. “—is really all I need.”

He and Dick split half of Damian’s pizza out of sheer spite. Bruce comes in at some point to let them know Alfred’s making another cake and then he somehow gets sucked into a game of Super Mario. Later, they’ll all gather around in the kitchen to force feed Jason cake and watch him open presents. It’ll be quiet and intimate and just right for him.

He’s not bored to death anymore.

Tomorrow, he’ll wake up to four hundred messages in the group chat and the world will right itself.

Wiffle: We’re all going to remember what we’re getting Damian for his bday next yr, right?

Duke☀️: lessons in decorum

Timbits: tickets to the Crayola Experience?

Timbits: tickets to Sesame Street live?

Wiffle: no

Wiffle: a trip to Home Depot to get him a big ass hoe

#no editing we die like mne #jtbdayweek #jtbw19 #lilbrowngyal writes #not an imagine #fic #i kinda hate this #but i did it last night so i was a difference person down #jason todd #duke thomas #dick grayson #damian wayne #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #tim drake #cass cain #haha i hate myself

[absolute-barbarism]

Stoic Smart A is unconscious (concussion, gunshot, whatever, your call) and Protective Brute B needs to get him to safety, bridal style.

hell YES here we go:

He said he would be fine.

It was a rough neighborhood A and B lived in. Not that they weren’t both accustomed to it, but they checked in with each other often and tried not to go out alone to minimize the risk they burdened by slumming it in this shit town. So when A mentioned going to the drug store alone for the cold medicine B needed, there was of course a protest. A had shrugged off his weak cough-laden argument and countered that they’d be even more of a target if B was stumbling around with “rob me, I’m too sick to fight back” written on his feverish pink cheeks. And B was too sick to argue back either.

But he wasn’t too sick to lay awake worrying for every minute that passed with A gone. The drug store was in a particularly dangerous area, and though A had enough wits about him to stay out of trouble, anything could happen in a town like this. Five minutes passed. B texted, “u on ur way?” without a reply. He reminded his anxiously racing heart that A probably hadn’t even checked out yet and lay still in bed, his phone clutched tight in his hand.

Ten minutes passed. A would have texted back by now, there was no question. With dread coiling in his stomach, he called A’s number. Every unanswered ring brought him closer to nausea.

Voicemail. He thought he was going to puke. Cold with fear, B leapt—rather, awkwardly tumbled—out of bed and threw on a shirt and sweats, then headed out the door. No one on the street paid him any mind—sick or not, he still towered above most people with enviable muscle mass. He wasn’t one to pick a fight with just for fun. Dizzied by the lights and traffic, B almost felt relieved to finally be inside the drug store, only for that relief to dwindle when he realized he didn’t see A anywhere. Nausea crept into his throbbing head again. He hurried out and turned into the alleyway, then took barely half a step when he saw it.

Brutalized, that was the only way to describe it. A had been brutalized. He lay passed out on the ground, covered head to toe in alarmingly purple bruises, dirt, and blood, and missing everything he left with, even his coat. Worst to look at it was the cut on his neck where B knew his assailants had pulled a knife on him. Judging from the blood under his fingernails, he called their bluff and fought back. And lost.

Crushing the rage that welled inside of him and screamed for vengeance, he scooped A up into his arms as carefully as he could. He had to get him home, where it was safe.

One step. Two. He stumbled.

Of all the times to be sick…The hospital was closer, but there was no way they could foot the bill, nor could they trust the quacks that worked in this area. B sucked in a deep breath and took another step. He could do this. Right foot, left foot, right foot…

By the time he finally made it back with A, once again receiving nobody’s attention along the way thanks to the intimidating fury ablaze in his eyes, he only had the energy left to lock the door behind him, lay A down on the old couch, then promptly collapse onto the floor next to him. His breathing ragged, B closed his eyes and promised himself just a five minute rest before he would get up to treat A’s wounds.

What kind of world did they live in where A got hurt trying to help someone else recover? His head was spinning too much to ruminate on it, but he held onto one clear thought like a mantra, the only thing keeping his own self conscious.

I don’t care how sick I am. I don’t care how exhausted I am. I’ll protect you, no matter what.

He thought again, exhaustion dissipating his anger, I’ll protect you. One of these days, I’m gonna get us out of here.

#gotta love tumblr mobile #speaking of unconscious #i am barely conscious #goodNIGHT ladies and germs #whump #asks #thank you! #prompts #the whumpy adventures of A&B #illness/injury #hurt/comfort

[dandelionpath]

I’m not sure what to classify this as but like the closest I got to the astral travel I want to achieve was like 👌 (if you can’t see emojis it’s the pinch emoji) like I was meditating and I move starting with the tips of my fingers n toes while physically meditating, I Like was able to change my position astrally more drastically than usual and the voice in my head altered somewhat (like I mean one’s thinking voice lmao) to be more like what I presume the voice of my astral form would be? (1/?)

(2/?) it was pretty cool but like before I could do much else all my muscles like seized up or moved at the same time again and it like brought me back to step 0 >~(3/?) closer and closer and eventually be able to on my own that’d be pretty cool lmao. I’ve technically been able to astral travel before but not in the way I want to specifically, like I have a pocket universe thing where I keep my astral space and thoughtforms (I have one son thoughtform that I joke is basically Jesus cuz he’s like my manager for it and he’s great at his job lmao) and I go there to a beach near my original astral space sometimes to feel the sand and surroundings but it’s (4/?) kinda like I’m there but only remotely? Like it’s like a phantom presence of sorts I guess. I can only get little glimpses of surroundings when I do that rip :( sometimes I can sense and even visualize stuff better though and those times are great lmao but I haven’t yet been able to find what might determine any differences, it seems mostly random >~(5/5) if that would be okay. Thank you again for your help and stuff, and I like reading about your experiences in your posts! Thank you again for your help :D 

FIRST OF ALL, I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SUCH A RIDICULOUSLY LONG TIME TO ANSWER YOU OML?????? I had a whole humongous answer written up and then my computer just chucked it out the window so I procrastinated a lot in writing it all up again aaagh I'm so sorry, that was the worst of me to do to you! Also had mental health stuff going on, but I definitely could have and should have answered you earlier, I am so so so sorry!!!So!! Here I am and let me try to help you as much as I can without writing an entire novel of an answer for you to read OOPs LOLlemme get all the jokes and oohs and aahs out of the way first dsdgsdfjkl: that sounds so cool and exciting omg!! that's such an interesting experience!! i'm glad u had that!! the astral voice is so wildly cool omg??? that's such an incredible experience!!!! god that's the worst feeling where you're finally getting somewhere and then your body just NOPES right out of it aaagh! YOUR JESUS THOUGHTFORM SON SDGDSFJKL I LOVE THAT

okay so first off (UPG and SPG): the pocket dimension ur describing sounds like a realm that's in between ur imagination and the astral. it's a bit of both. it's probably a realm that you created that's part of the astral that you've created. the astral is endless, and you can create new parts of it that aren't attached to anything else. so you've most likely created a little realm of your own that you can change around as you please (most likely using a bit of energy, otherwise that'd be just your imagination if you could move and make things instantly and without expending any energy). in these realms you can invite any spirits you want, and can have thoughtforms and everything there! sometimes realms like yours will eventually grow on their own and attach themselves to other realms, and that's why you still want to ward your space because spirits would be able to get in fairly easily if the realm attaches itself to another realm.in this pocket realm, you can control stuff (and controlling things uses energy) and it follows mostly your own rules i would assume. you can also create things (i always imagine it like minecraft when i'm working on pocket realms lol) but this uses energy as well. does that sound right?so, assuming that's what this is, I think the reason why you're only catching things in glimpses is just because either a) you need more practice, or b) that's just how you experience the astral. it could also be a bit of both of those reasons! personally, when I'm astral traveling, I don't often get full clear HD continuous vision. when i do get that, it's a huge energy drain and it also requires me to be super relaxed and of the right vibration at that time. aka it rarely happens and i actually don't prefer it because it takes way too much energy. it's not worth the energy drain for me! OKAY ANYWAYS LMAO: when i astral travel, i see it in only quick glimpses every few seconds. most of it is actually just me sensing what's going on. it's difficult to explain, but let me attempt to dgsfjkl: imagine that you're in your room and it's pitch black. you have a pretty good idea of where the furniture is, and so you can make your way around without bumping into too much. you know what's around you even though you can't see it. it's kind of like that, except things are moving and speaking and i've often never been there before. i hope that makes sense lmao ^^; (i'm actually considering making an animatic of what my astral travels look like, bc it's difficult to explain,,,, but that's a ton of work lmao) i actually feel a little bit like i'm there remotely, but also not?? i'm often still very much aware of my physical body, but the longer and more focused i am on the astral, then the less aware i become and my physical body kind of fades into the background. 

one tip i have that's helped me is to feel your consciousness in your physical body, and then kind of shift that consciousness to your astral body. sometimes i just like... fling my consciousness/awareness over into the other body, and that works? idk, try it out!

so! for advice, i'd say: 1) keep practicing!   2) lower your expectations for yourself, you're not going to be able to see HD vision in the astral, that's just setting yourself up for failure and frustration!   3) work on talking to spirits some more in this plane! this will help with astral traveling because then you'll kind of know how your metaphysical senses feel when you're doing them right! you'll have a bit of a better idea of how it feels when what you're experiencing is "real" and therefore how it feels when it's fake/you're making stuff up.   4) if you want to, see if you can ask someone (spirit or human) to pull you into the astral! I've done this for a friend of mine, and it did help a bit!   5) and finally, and i think most importantly, remember that this takes practice and work and there won't usually be any immediate gratification. some people take weeks to learn to astral travel, others take months, and some can take years,,, if you practice and work at it regularly, though, i'm sure you'll get there! 

i hope this doesn't get to you after you've got this all figured out (or maybe hopefully it does bc then you'll have progressed a bunch and that's awesome!)! i just hope this helps you in some way, at least even a tiny bit!! let me know!! i'll answer ur q waaaay faster if u send any other ones in, i promise lmao!!!

#comet answers #I feel so incredibly bad dude like... I should've answered this like two months ago..... that was so bad of me I hope u can forgive me!!! #astral travel #astral

[dibidibidismol]

do em all, coward

on the one hand: yay! i get to do the ask game! on the other; @acutest-angle, i’m so sorry for doing this to you. i aint gonna fill nobody’s dash, so the qna is under the break. these are like really undetailed. ill be more specific for individual numbers

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? im pretty happy being 163

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) i love my lil baby so much. i wouldnt trade my pupper for the world

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? i wear a lot of black, and generally dress such that i would be good to go for any job interviews/public speaking events. this is in large part to make up for the fact that my go-to shoes are heelys. like i wear my heelys during professional presentations that count for a large part of my grade. my teachers think im “something else”

4: What was your favorite video game growing up? idk. we didnt do all that media shiz. maybe pvz.

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: my doggo, my child(useless friend needing guidance) and my tumblr-famous friend. hmu for her url. 6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say?absolute weirdo, but like in a socially acceptable way. can and will debate you into submission.7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]?i support gays.8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] 

9: Are you ticklish?a bit10: Are you allergic to anything?some cats, all homophobes11: What’s your sexuality?ace, homoromo12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa?tea babe. like i have so much. like a cubic yard. its a problem.13: Are you a cat or dog person?im multifandom(not a furry)14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson?elf15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber?amber liu16: How tall are you?160cm17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to?my chinese name18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]102-105 i’m smol.19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits?normally no. when im home alone….a lil.20: Do you like space or the ocean more? i have a large fear of the ocean. 21: Are you religious? no22: Pet peeves?poor work ethics/mansplaining/poor hygiene.23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]?diurnal24: Favorite constellation?orions belt25: Favorite star?shinee26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls?not particularly27: Any phobias or fears?germs, the dark, men, large non-pools bodies of water, spiders28: Do you think global warming is real? yea, but “climate change” is more accurate29: Do you believe in reincarnation?no30: Favorite movie?tangled, the lorax, shawshank redemp. , hairspray, legally blond, mulan, mama mia, in that order.31: Do you get scared easily? yea32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime?3 fish 3 dog33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] im gunna rate @acutest-angle cuz she did mine. 10/10 would be 11 but she aint stannin shinee.34: What is a color that calms you? purple35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? oregon suits me fine36: Where were you born? oregon37: What is your eye color?brown38: Introvert or extrovert?idek. im really good at people, but idk abt energy gaining or wtv.39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs?no40: Hugs or kisses?hugs41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now?my doggo.42: Who is someone you love deeply? see above43: Any piercings you want? i already have doubles. might get belly button in the future.44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? hnngg45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? hell no. i take drugs/alcohol v seriously.46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! gorl. so beautiful, so smart, so utterly perfect. also taken.47: What is a sound you really hate? the whit boi in class mansplaining shit to me.48: A sound you really love? pitter pat of paws on hardwood.49: Can you do a backflip? no.50: Can you do the splits? no51: Favorite actor and/or actress?idkrn52: Favorite movie? see 3053: How are you feeling right now?tee hee54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? i really like my hair as is.55: When did you feel happiest? talking in front of many peeps.56: Something that calms you down?tea57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]  none diagnosed. ask me about my brain later for more deets. 58: What does your URL mean?that i smol and i luv shinee59: What three words describe you the most? witty, caring,quick.60: Do you believe in evolution?yes61: What makes you unfollow a blog?too many posts/mediocre content/no longer aligned interests.62: What makes you follow a blog? posts63: Favorite kind of person:girl64: Favorite animal(s):dogs/cats65: Name three of your favorite blogs. @lolfunnykpop @acutest-angle @27-umbrellas66: Favorite emoticon: thumbs up67: Favorite meme: ive connected the dots68: What is your MBTI personality type?pic69: What is your star sign?my wut?70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog?yes71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most?its black, its formalish, its a pushup bra, dress, and heelys.72: Post a selfie or two?i like dont have any, and im in no statye to be taking them rn.

73: Do you have platform shoes?no?

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself?i forgot a wholeass language75: Can you do a front flip?no76: Do you like birds?y77: Do you like to swim?ew78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you?no79: Something you wish didn’t exist:homophobia80: Some thing you wish did exist:universal translators81: Piercings you have?double in each ear82: Something you really enjoy doing:read83: Favorite person to talk to:dog84: What was your first impression of Tumblr?no rules here.85: How many followers do you have?all together, a thousand or two?86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? idk87: Do your socks always match?no88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely?ill cry89: What are your birthstones? the lite blu one90: If you were an animal, which one would you be?i aint no furry.91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be?a rose92: A store you hate? chick fil a93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?  i got addicted, so ive been coffee free for 3 yrs now94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? fly95: Do you like to wear camo? no96: Winter or summer?winter97: How long can you hold your breath for?40sec98: Least favorite person?trump99: Someone you look up to:amber liu100: A store you love?office depot101: Favorite type of shoes? heelys102: Where do you live? oregon103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why?vegetarian, environment/animal right, eggs for health.104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? sparkle105: Do you drink milk? yea, calcium.106: Do you like bugs?i respect their existence but stay tf away107: Do you like spiders? no108: Something you get paranoid about?spiders, water, germs109: Can you draw: sure110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked?do you shave ur vag?111: A question you hate being asked?whos ur boy friend?112: Ever been bitten by a spider?no113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?yea, from a distance114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?sunny, from a distance115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: doggo116: Favorite cloud type:cotton candy?117: What color do you wish the sky was?this is fine118: Do you have freckles? like two.119: Favorite thing about a person:personality120: Fruits or vegetables?fruit121: Something you want to do right now:crochet122: Is the ocean or sky prettier?sky123: Sweet or sour foods?sweet124: Bright or dim lights?dim, i have oddball vision issues.125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature?love126: Something you hate about Tumblr:no dates on anything/ALL THE FREAKING PORNBOTS THAT ARE STILL FOLLOWING ME REGULARLY127: Something you love about Tumblr:shitposts128: What do you think about the least?i feel like this is a paradox129: What would you want written on your tombstone?list of my achievements in life(born:xxxx died:xxxx)130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now?ice131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?how my brain occasionally forgets to filter132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?sometimes133: Computer or TV?computer134: Do you like roller coasters?ew, all that sweat and vomit baked into the seats.135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness?no136: Are your ears lobed or attached?lobed137: Do you believe in karma?idk, i like to be nice but secretly with passive aggressive motives.138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are?7139: What nicknames do you have/have had?dictionary, lee, tumblr girl, dibi, mom, my child, heely girl (i have a reputation at school)140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends?yea, i dont remember them, but apparently i invented myself a butler.141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?way back in the day142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?good143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?giving144: What makes you angryamerica145: How many languages do you speak fluently? 1146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? girls147: Are you androgynous? no148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: figure/hair149: Favorite thing about your personality:   i think im funny150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. my friend’s mom/my coach, my rolemodel/friend, my past self.151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? all the eras sucked for people like myself152: Do you like BuzzFeed?love/hate153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.]sexy free and single154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? o yeah155: Do you like to play with others’ hair?yessss156: What embarrasses you?my mouth157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:the internment camps158: Biggest lie you have ever told:so many159: How many people are you following?153160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)?10000+161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)?1000+162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)?how do i find this?163: Last time you cried and why: today. latest superstore episode.164: Do you have long or short hair?long165: Longest your hair has ever been:2.5 ft166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon?like the community it provides, dislike a lot of values taught, dislike the exclusivity, dislike the way religion is treated as a default. 167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? only in regards to what we can do to save it.168: Do you like to wear makeup?i like sparkly eyeshadow n mascara. but dont wear regularly.169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? no170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? yea sure.

#about me #ask game #dibi speaks

[viduregia-blog]

-- Prompt 01: Questionnaire

(content warning for: disordered eating, maybe substance abuse?) 

01. Tell us about your character’s name. Was it given to them or chosen? Does it hold any special meaning? If your character has aliases or nicknames, how did they get them and what do they mean?

Her birth name was largely picked because one of her moms thought it sounded pretty-- it’s not much deeper than that from an in-fiction perspective. 

And Uria Grata, the primary alias that she uses, is the name of a girl whose identity she stole... So it was picked for that reason LOL. Her second most used alias, Violet Waxbi, was designed to help her blend in among various different groups while on the job. 

Out of fiction, I’m a giant fucking nerd and adapted her birth name from that of a brood parasite (aka bird that puts its eggs in the nests of other birds), and her aliases are both plays on the name of the bird that this specific brood parasite takes advantage of. 

Also when she was a kid some of the other gang members called her Songbird (because i said so), and she still occasionally uses it as a call sign or whatever. 

02. What is your character’s relationship to their homeworld? Do they hold fond memories of it, or do they hate it? Are they still here, and if not, do they miss it?

i mean............... she’s definitely not still there! kinda sucks when ur planet goes boom but she’s coping ! sort of !! sure wish more of her family and friends had gotten off planet with her !! 

So mostly she tries to avoid thinking about Taris. But. There aren’t many positive memories of the planet itself, it was dirty and and oppressive and, later, war torn. Most days she didn’t see the sun, and good food was hard to find at the best of times. Memories of the people there are much more favorable, though, and sometimes she misses that. Sometimes she even misses the smell and everything just because it was so familiar. 

Getting off Taris was one of the best things she ever did, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt sometimes. 

Getting her family off Taris was just as important, even if it took a lot of convincing-- but with the Exchange taking over, even they could see that things weren’t likely to get better. A good quarter of the Hidden Beks had managed to find refuge elsewhere before the quarantine and Taris’ eventual destruction, Vidu’s family included. 

03. Describe your character’s relationship with those who raised them. Was it positive? Negative? Neutral? What sorts of ideologies were they raised with, and do they still stand by them now?

She loves her moms!!! and the other older swoop gang members that helped them raise her! Loves them so much she almost didn’t leave for Coruscant when she got the chance but they weren’t gonna stand for that... It was a very tearful mushy goodbye. 

Growing up, there was a lot of emphasis on loyalty and working for the good of the group, and she still carries that with her, though she’s expanded her gang to include the whole of the Republic at this point. Just one huge family. Also, a healthy dose of distrust for strangers. 

04. What is your character’s relationship with the Force? Is your character Force-sensitive? Whether or not they are, do they believe in it? Do they lean more towards the dark or the light or are they somewhere in between?

I mean maybe if you squint real hard there might be a hint of force around her but like....... Not enough to do anything with. Once in a blue moon she has a gut feeling abt something and it turns out right, but like, it’s probably just intuition? She does believe in it well enough, though-- like, she’s seen a few Jedi at work. They do fancy stuff that seems to support the whole force thing. She doesn’t think about it very much, but she knows it’s out there. 

If she had more sensitivity she would rest somewhere in the middle, though. She’s all about shades of gray. 

05. What three word would you use to describe your character? What three words would your character use to describe themself? What three words would someone close to them use?

me: determined, resourceful, scattered

vidu: i don’t have time for this (yes she knows that’s more than three words) 

del, sis agent: stubborn, protective, hot

06. Describe your character’s aesthetic. Do they tend towards fashion or function? Do they like to accessorize? How does this extend into their own personal spaces, such as their home or their workspace?

god she misses the days when aesthetic didn’t matter as much..... she spent her whole youth running around in whatever fabric she could throw on at the last second.... although occasionally she made the whole gang attend her “fashion shows” but even then, it was mostly her making her brothers and anyone else nearby dress up silly...... 

now, though, she has to dress up and accessorize properly as a matter of survival. if she doesn’t look the part, who knows what’ll happen? this applies to her apartment, too-- it very much looks the part. although, it and her desk are also Always some level of a total mess. there’s lots of shoving dirty clothes under the bed when someone comes to visit. 

07. What are your character’s vices? Guilty pleasures? Bad habits? Weak spots?

in her down time, she’s a real sucker for anything that feels luxurious. vidu almost never takes a day off, but u can bet when she does she spends the whole day in the bath!! u can also bet she spent most of at least one paycheck on super fancy soft sheets, and has more nice alcohol in her apartment than she does food.

she does have the unfortunate habit of substituting drink (alcohol, caf, experimental energy drinks, protein shakes, etc) for food, though, and most days she only eats once because she forgets so easily. she’s just not used to food being that easily accessible!! she probably never will be!! and if she’s not in polite company, chances are high she’ll scarf her food so fast it gives her a stomach ache... 

other bad habits: having zero relationships outside of work, and finding dares almost impossible to resist

08. Tell us about your character’s relationship with food. What are their favorites? Do they enjoy cooking? Are they adventurous? Will they eat absolutely anything or are they hard to please?

Oops i guess I talked about it a little in the last question, BUT.... yeah, she’s not great about food. As a kid it wasn’t always easy to come by, and now that it is she doesn’t know what to do with it. How do manage eating schedule?? How do GROCERY SHOP?? ???? ? No. If she doesn’t snag something at work then she’s either not eating or she’s ordering out. 

Pretty sure Vidu has never cooked-- that was more her brother’s thing. She’s not like, burn water bad, but.... She does avoid it like the plague. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t occasionally hoard food when she does remember to go shopping, though. There’s a lot of shit in her cabinets that never sees the light of day. 

In terms of what she will eat, though.... I mean she’s eaten things a lot grosser than anything you’ll find for sale on Coruscant. She can and will eat bugs off the ground on a dare. Let’s leave it at that. 

09. How does your character feel about engaging in relationships—romantic and / or sexual—with others? What is their history like? Do they fall in love easily? Are they constantly in and out of relationships?

Vidu’s never really been in an official relationship yet, and she’s dead set on keeping it that way until her single status stops being a career asset. At the moment, being able to flirt around without worrying about someone getting hurt is too important to risk a relationship. 

She will occasionally have a one night stand, though, when she’s not too busy. It’s just nice to indulge in the fantasy, sometimes. She's developed a number of crushes throughout her life, but has yet to follow anything through. 

Also it’s kind of a given, in her mind, that she’ll end up sleeping with someone for career favors someday, but it hasn’t come to that yet. 

10. What is your character’s pain tolerance like? Can they hold their own in a fight, despite injury? If someone hurts them with the aim of gaining information, how much can they take before they cave?

I mean she certainly doesn’t like pain !!! She’s also incredibly stubborn, though. So it ends up like this: she’ll whine for an hour about a stubbed toe, but she’ll keep working on a sprained ankle without saying anything to anybody (limping pathetically around the office and then straightening up whenever anyone comes into view..... Faster limping when they turn away). 

Also if she ever gets tortured, she’s already worked out that she’s going to take as much as seems plausible and then immediately start lying her ass off. Come up with a story and stick to it. Last just long enough that it would seem like she’d broken for real, and then start giving false information out the wazoo. With this method, she hopes to never actually find the limits of her pain tolerance cause she doesn’t know what they are and she doesn’t want to. 

11. What is your character’s weapon of choice? Are they more skilled as a melee fighter or do they have more skill with ranged weapons? What’s their fighting style like? What sort of training do they have behind them?

Vidu tries to avoid combat as much as possible-- even when things got bad on Taris she made herself useful by transporting supplies and doing basic first aid, rather than being involved with the fighting too much. 

That being said, she also has stupidly good aim. She’s been handling blasters for most of her life, and has spent a lot of time doing target practice, but has more limited practice with moving targets. It’s been more than enough to keep her alive in any combat situations that have come up, regardless. 

12. Does your character have any words or catchphrases that they say frequently? Tell us about how they picked them up.

When she took on her new identity, Vidu did a whole overhaul of her vocabulary. There was just too much that was indicative of where she came from-- now that it’s been a few years, she rarely makes slip-ups anymore. Also, given that 90% of her interactions are work related, she’s in customer service voice (and the stock phrases that go with that) like... Most of the time.

13. Tell us about a negative experience your character has had with either the Jedi or the Sith, and how this has affected their standing. Whether currently aligned or unaligned with either faction, if forced to choose, how would they side?

i mean the sith blew up..... her whole planet and a good number of people she considered like family. there’s no coming back from that, she’s gonna be down with sith till she dies. Outside of that, though, she’s pretty forgiving. See: going to work for the republic after they royally fucked up defending her planet. She hasn’t had many experiences with the Jedi outside of bureaucratic nonsense, but she would still pick them over the sith any day. 

14. How would your character react to seeing a relative or friend on the opposing side of a battle or mission?

I mean she’d certainly try to avoid fighting them until they had a chance to explain themselves. If it came down to it, her aim is good enough that she can generally fake missing people by inches, if she needed to uphold a cover but still wanted to let them get away. 

It would certainly warrant a good talking to later though!! 

15. Describe a memory that your character finds embarrassing.

That time her older brother talked her into sneaking out in the middle of the night to try out a swoop bike for the first time. It turned out it was broken and minorly exploded when she turned it on, naturally alerting all adults in the area. Her brother was gone by the time they got to the scene, but Vidu had tripped getting off and was dealing with a busted nose for too long to escape. 

It’s mostly embarrassing because she should have known better, her brother was always pulling shit like that. 

16. What goals does your character hold for themself and what steps have they taken towards achieving them? How far are they willing to go to reach them? What is their be-all and end-all?

Destroy the Empire. Not really. I mean yes, really, in the moments when she lets herself go really hog wild with the daydreaming, but. She doesn’t imagine that will happen in her lifetime. In the meantime, she’s content to aim for running the Strategic Information Service and getting it really set up to start crippling the Empire’s operations. 

Her steps have been pretty good so far, she’s already in a position of some mild authority within the organization, and she’s slowly building a network of powerful people that value her opinion. She’ll get there someday. The ends justify the means, in this case, so...... She probably wouldn’t stoop to murder but even that is a tiny bit questionable depending on who it is.

17. What is the one thing your character would change about their life if they were given the chance? What other lives could they have lived as a result?

Taris not being blown up would be..... nice..... Most of the things she would change are so far outside of her control that it’s not even really worth dreaming about, honestly. If Taris hadn’t been blown up, if the Mandalorian Wars hadn’t fucked them, if Taris hadn’t been a shithole in the first place-- it’s not worth thinking about. 

There’s a small, secret part of her that thinks maybe a nice calm life with her family would be okay, living under the radar on Bogden with them, setting up a chill lil smuggling operation. Would be great, even, but honestly even in her daydreams she knows that she would get bored of that really quick. She doesn’t know who she is without some kind of crusade. 

18. Living in such a high-conflict time, how does your character feel about doing what they must to survive? Will they hurt or kill others—either directly or indirectly—to protect themself and / or those close to them? If so, do they regret it when all is said and done?

As mentioned previously, she’s a big proponent of the ends justifying the means. If it’s to protect herself or others, she has no qualms about killing or maiming, and she’s done it before. For reasons less vital than defense there would be... Hesitation. She hasn’t been put in a position to find out, yet, whether or not she’d be willing to kill someone who’s not a direct threat in order to guarantee the success of a bigger picture goal. If she did, though, she would be torn up about it for a while. 

19. What is the biggest problem your character is currently dealing with?

Vidu’s job is consuming her every waking moment, right now. It’s a good distraction, honestly, from having to think about everything that’s been lost in the fighting. Her biggest problem right at this particular moment is that one of her agents didn’t return from a mission recently, and she hasn’t been able to re-establish contact for a good while, so she probably has to recruit someone knew to re-establish coverage in their sectors. 

20. Give us 3+ headcanons of any length or subject matter.

okay here we go again: 

1. Agents: Vidu’s first recruit was a smuggler named Del Kos, and her suspiciously well trained travelling companion, Scorpio, though he’s technically not on the payroll. Anyway, Vidu and Del get along really well and it’s actually terrible when they end up on the same planet cause Del inevitably gets Vidu drunk, and Vidu is both a lightweight and a really rowdy drunk, so Scorpio always has to step in and manage things or it ends with Del starting a bar brawl while Vidu goes full wrestling announcer voice and takes bets from her perch atop the bar. 

At the moment, Vidu also manages two other official agents, but I want to leave those open for later development so I’m not gonna go too much into them. 

2. Bike Skills: Vidu’s actually really good at swoop bike racing but she can’t tell anyone!! It would blow her cover!! But she is, at all times, dying inside that she doesn’t get to flaunt one of her biggest pride points. This only really becomes a problem when she sees someone watching a swoop race and can’t contain it anymore and becomes the most obnoxious sports fan right in their ear. 

3. Sexuality: The girl is a big ol’ gay, zero interest in guys, but flirts with them all the time to get what she wants. She can’t help it if they’re easily manipulated!! 

bonus. Give us a list of any length telling us why our “fave is problematic.”

is she tho...? i mean.... is she?

jk of course she is: 

she stole a whole ass identity and is living a lie she drinks more wine and caffa than she eats food she probably lets her agents get away with more than she should she’s working really hard to get everyone she works for wrapped around her finger doesn’t have any friends outside of work  crosses professional boundaries with the work friends she does have her apartment looks like a whirlwind went through it at all times so does her desk someone save her poor coworkers and the janitor

#sidereal prompt 01 #2 #3 #4 #5 #prompt #musing