#I also played around with coding with scratch a bit

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! Thank you so much for recommending scratch for the kidlet I used to babysit who wants to learn to code. He's started playing with it and he loves it! Do you have any recommendations for any supplemental materials I could give him? Like books or guides or something?

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

ok so hear me out. rafe and weird!girl get into an argument and rafe calls her weird or says something about her being normal for once and my girl gets all upset as she should.

Nonnie, are you in my walls? I’m very much having a day like this. This is heavily based on the day I had today and writing it made me feel sm better. Slight angst. Fluff. 1.8K words. NO MINORS!! (Note: weird!girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic)

You were extremely overwhelmed. It feels like every single thing is out to get you today. Before you and Rafe left to go on your first grocery shopping trip since you moved in together you got into a bit of a disagreement over the list. You are extremely picky. You have set safe foods that you like to stick to and you don’t like to stray from them. But Rafe on the other hand would eat almost anything. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you wanted to live off of freezer waffles and chicken nuggets when he hired a professional chef for the two of you.

“Baby, why would I buy you the cheap freezer shit when I can have it made from scratch all fancy n shit?” It wasn’t about the price, you know that. It was just that Rafe wanted you to have the best of everything he could possibly give you and sometimes you just wanted the simpler things. Something that he’s still trying to understand.

“It’s just… I don’t want that. I want the ones from the store. That I always get. The ones I like.” Your lips were formed into a pout as you looked down at your lap and played with the rings on your fingers.

“Aight, Bats, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged and kissed your forehead before leaving you to finish getting ready. It was what you wanted. But you could tell it wasn’t what he wanted so you felt bad. You didn't want to be an inconvenience.

So after that you got in your head that you were too much for him. You spent the entire card ride to the grocery store thinking about how a normal girl wouldn’t want specific foods. A normal girl would be more than happy to have a personal chef make them anything and everything they wanted. A normal girl would be able to go to those fancy restaurants Rafe likes because she’d actually like anything on the menu. He tried to take you once and you spent the entire meal picking at your plate of chicken and veggies, so he never tried again settling to go places that had things you actually liked.

Then at the store you were so in your head that if you hadn’t made a list you probably wouldn’t have gotten a single thing you wanted. You couldn’t stop feeling like you were a burden to him because you needed him to buy you an entirely different grocery list from his own. You kept trying to put things back. Or tell him you didn’t need things that you did, in fact, need. You could tell Rafe was getting frustrated with you and it only made you want to shut down even more.

It didn’t help that the grocery store was easily one of your least favorite places. The lighting was awful. There were always so many people everywhere not looking where they’re going. The freezer section was always so cold that you spent that entire section of the shopping trip practically shaking. It was so goddamn loud. People talking. Kids crying. The squeaking of the old grocery cart wheels. So going there when you were already feeling overwhelmed was a recipe for disaster.

You fully lost it when you were checking out. The cart was extremely disorganized because you were too checked out to keep it in order the entire trip. The store you were at had it so you bagged your own groceries so the fact that the cart was a complete disaster made bagging them incredibly difficult. You were struggling to keep up with the cashier and also bag the groceries efficiently. He kept pushing the conveyor belt button, rolling the groceries that you haven’t bagged yet to pile up on top of each other at the end of it. The cart was full of bags and you weren’t even half done so you had to run and grab another one, only letting the pile grow further.

Rafe bought a case of beer and it the midst of you trying to frantically bag everything in a timely manner the cashier also asked you for your I.D. Which only frustrates you more. You don’t even drink beer. And it made you have to pause bagging again to dig in your purse. The cashier kept looking from the card to you and back again, like he thought it was fake.

“I know I look nothing like that, that was 7 years ago.” You didn’t mean to sound snippy, but you were pretty much at your limit.

“Baby, it’s fine, he’s just lookin’ for the date.” Rafe shot you a look and it only pissed you off more.

“Well he’s looking at it like it’s fake or some shit!” You scoffed as you slammed a full bag into the cart. Which only earned you another look from Rafe.

On the way home he hardly talked to you, instead he decided to blast trap music when you were clearly already overstimulated so you decided to put your headphones on and drown him out.

“Bats, the fuck is going on with you today, huh?” Rafe is towering over you the minute you enter the kitchen, backing you up against the counter.

“I just don’t like the grocery store. And you made me feel bad about the food. And everything was just so loud in there. And I felt like you hardly talked to me the entire time. I’ve felt like an inconvenience to you all day!” You snap at him as you stomp your foot in frustration, glaring up at him.

“All we did was go to the fuckin’ store. You’re seriously that worked up over it?” Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes! I am! The grocery store is extremely stressful for me and you’re not being considerate of that!!”

“That’s ridiculous, people go to the grocery store every day. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why you can’t just be fuckin’ normal sometimes.” Rafe throws his hands up, letting them fall against his thighs with a smack. The minute the words leave his mouth your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears brim your eyes. And he knows he fucked up. Immediately he knows he fucked up.

“You know what? Why don’t you go find a normal girlfriend then!?” You push against his chest, running past him to your shared bedroom. You slam the door behind you, sliding down it as the tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks. You knew it.

“Baby…” Rafe’s voice travels through the thick wood as he lightly taps on it. “ I’m sorry… that was- I shouldn’t have- Bats, can you open the door, please?”

“No. Go away.” You whimper as you curl further into yourself against the door.

“Baby girl, please? Just wanna talk. Lemme see you.” He turns the knob, pushing on the door lightly causing you to shift forward slightly. “C’mon, get away from the door, let me in.”

“Why don’t you go find a normal girl to talk to.” You snap at him before trying to push back against the wood but he’s so much stronger than you that it doesn’t even budge. Rafe shoves his foot into the crack of the door, pushing it until he can slip through. It slams shut behind him from your weight, causing you to yelp. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “Baby, look at me.”

“No.” You shake your head, subconsciously nuzzling into his touch. Your lips are quivering so bad your teeth are chattering as tears flow down your cheeks and Rafe kind of wants to kick his own ass.

“Listen I- I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I didn’t - fuck baby, I didn’t mean that shit. I was just frustrated. Doesn’t make it okay though, never wanna make my girl cry.” Rafe runs his thumbs down the apples of your cheeks, wiping away the salty tears that continue to fall. “I think I’ve gotten pretty damn good about knowing how you work. But with us living together now there's gonna be new shit that I’m gonna have to pick up on. I’m so sorry princess.”

“I just - I - just wanna be enough for you. Don’t wanna be a burden.” Your body tries to curl in on itself even more but Rafe doesn’t let it, he grips onto your hips and pulls you into his lap. He wraps his strong arms around you as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Want you to listen to me baby, aight?” He takes your jaw in his hand, tilting your head towards his to get you to look at him. When you do it nearly cracks his heart. He hates that he made you feel like everyone else always has. “I never should’ve fucking said that shit. I didn’t mean it. Not even a little bit. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I fuckin’ love you and all your weird little shit. Your weird little shit just makes me love you more. I’ve never known anyone like you. You’ve taught me so much. I guess I’ve just still got some shit to learn. But I’m trying, Bats. I’ll never stop trying.”

“You really mean it?” You sniffle as you look up at him through your teary eyes and Rafe has never felt more bad than he does at this moment. If he saw anybody else making you cry like this they would be so fucked and here he is, doing it.

“Of course I fuckin’ mean that shit, baby girl. I’m sorry for losing my patience with you today. I never, ever, wanna hurt you. Never wanna make you feel like all these other douchebags on the island do. Kind of want to run them all over, including myself right now.” Rafe lets out a dry chuckle when he sees the corner of your lips tilt up slightly. His large hand runs down the back of your head, smoothing down your hair as he continues to rock the both of you. “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

“It’s okay, Rafey. I know I can be too much sometimes. But I do know that you love me.” And you do. Especially right now. Rafe never opens up to you like this. And you kind of want to blow him right now.

“Hey, you aren’t too much, aight? Don’t ever let anyone make you feel that way. Including me, put my ass in check baby. God knows I need it.” He smiles down at you before leaning to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Want me to put some nuggets in the air fryer for you and we can watch that movie you’ve been trying to get me to watch?”

“Mhm, that sounds perfect daddy.”

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[fatkish]

Aizawa x Autistic cat-quirk Reader 3/3 NSFW

Part 2:

Part 1:

(Art not mine again, I found it on Pinterest)

As you and Aizawa got further into your relationship eventually you moved into his apartment. Aizawa was more than happy to be able to come home to you and be able to spend his time with you without having to worry about meeting up or making time to go anywhere. Since you moved in with Aizawa there are things you did specifically to help accommodate your needs. Aizawa gave you full support and permission to do whatever you needed to make his home yours as well.

A few of the changes you made were installing various hide boxes that you placed around your’s and Shouta’s house/apartment, they have little cat beds inside and a curtain covering the entrance to them.

The boxes are actually color coded based on how you’re feeling and how one should interact with you.

Green means you’re feeling good and are happy to interact, yellow means you’re a little anxious but are up for snuggles, red means you’re overwhelmed and leave you alone.

Aizawa’s other cats liked the hide boxes so you made bigger ones and helped him create an exercise course for his cats to use that runs along the walls

There is also a small water fountain that you placed in Aizawa’s apartment for his cats to drink from, you replace the water every day and wipes it down to clean it

You’ve also put brushes on the sides of certain furniture, walls, and on the cat’s towers. These brushes help you as well as Aizawa’s cats with grooming and helps reduce the amount of hair on everything and the amount of hairballs. The brushes are easy to clean and remove hair from. The cats just have to rub themselves against it and it brushes their fur collecting any loose hair.

As you both began sleeping in the same house/apartment Aizawa has gotten to see a lot more of your unfiltered self.

Sometimes when you’re completely in the Autistic zone you’ll just lay on his chest and lick Aizawa’s stubble whenever he’s laying down. You’ve explained to him that sometimes you just have an unstoppable urge to lick him and that you enjoy the feeling of his stubble. You apologized for it but he doesn’t mind it and lets you just follow your instincts.

While he was asleep you had played with his scarf and got tangled in it only for him to wake up to you yowling and angry, he laughed as he untangled you

Sometimes you’ll use cat behaviors to express yourself without words. One of the ways is when you make biscuits: you’ll do this whenever you’re happy in both cat and human form. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

another thing is Bunting: (y/n)’ll rub on Aizawa and leaves their scent on him every time he leaves the house (hound dog thought an intruder got inside UA and tracked the scent only to find Aizawa. He explained that a cat quirked friend rubbed their scent on him and that’s what inui is smelling)

Eventually Aizawa had to introduce you to his friends. At first when you met Hizashi you were spooked by his loud voice and even puffed up your fur with your back arched hissing at him.

After a bit you got used to his presence and carefully approached him. The moment he started scratching your head and giving you pets you folded and that’s when you both became friends.

After having known him for awhile you and Hizashi worked together to create a cat music playlist for his radio station. They created “cat radio: the 9 to 5 station for your feline friend” the station plays music for cats created by various artists and plays Monday to Saturday from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm.

You gave him a list of sounds that cats enjoy and he mixed them together and created a rhythm that sounded almost like human music.

Whenever they hang out he plays his newest pieces for them and they tell him what they think and if it could be improved.

Sometimes on Sundays, Hizashi and reader will accept calls to the studio or will open emails/letters from the listeners of the cat radio channel and reader will answer the listener’s questions about their cats and give advice as well as help the listeners understand their cats and somewhat translate for the cat(s) using their quirk’s ability to communicate with cats. Sometimes they have special guests such as veterinarians to answer questions and discuss cat things.

After some time (y/n) eventually met Nemuri as well. Nemuri immediately fell in love with (y/n) and quickly became their relationship coach. Whenever you’re having issues or need help with anything you call Nemuri for advice. She’s the one who helped Aizawa with the more intimate aspects of your relationship.

One time as a joke, Hizashi gave (y/n) catnip just to see what they’d do, only for them to get really horny and tackle Aizawa when he got home.

They kept biting him and eventually he had to lock them in a room to relieve their urges with the help of some ‘toys’ and needless to say, Aizawa was extremely exhausted afterwards but enjoyed tying his little kitten up.

However after that he never allowed catnip near them again unless (y/n) agreed beforehand due to how it makes them feel

When they get frisky in bed Aizawa will often bite the back of their neck where they have a human scruff, the skin there is just more loose and stretchy.

He will also make sounds like a seductive growl or rumbling when he bites it. This causes reader to become completely relaxed and intensifies their physical sensitivities as well as their 5 senses when they’re having sex.

You also experiences heats instead of periods(for you girls). (Boys experience heats too)

During this time you become especially sensitive and horny. Aizawa will mark and track the days leading to your heat so he can prepare for it.

He has bought various toys that he can control from his phone as well as a teddy bear that he recorded messages on for you to listen to his voice when he isn’t home and you need to relieve yourself

A lot of the messages are dirty talking telling you what he’s going to do to you when he gets home, praises and compliments or just him telling you how much he loves you

“Who’s my pretty little kitty? That feel good? I can’t wait to get home, you’d better prep yourself, because I’m not going give you any time to prepare.”

“Look at you, you’re so wet, such a naughty little kitten, making a mess.”

“You’re such a pretty little kitty, making such cute little noises, I just can’t wait to get home and sink my teeth into you and fuck you all night”

“Face down, ass in the air kitten, you know how I like it”

“Look at this cute little ass, maybe I should tie you up, make you beg for me as I spank you”

“I’m going to make you scream so loud you’re gonna give Hizashi a run for his money.”

“That’s it, good (girl, boy, kitty) go on and purr for me baby let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

“You’re so tight, I love you so much.”

When he does get home during their heats, he’s always happy to help them.

During your heats he’ll give you catnip on occasion as an aphrodisiac to help you when he’s especially tired since it makes you even more sensitive.

After your heats Aizawa will happily snuggle you and help you get around since you’re sore afterwards more often than not.

All in all, your relationship with Aizawa is purrfect, and he couldn’t ask for anything more.

[xanasaurusrex]

plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,

clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)

y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.

y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.

during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.

the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.

y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.

whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.

since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.

it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.

unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.

the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.

capture the flag.

one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.

a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.

clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.

it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.

a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.

y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.

clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.

she could barely takes her eyes off her.

thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.

that would've been awkward....

when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.

strange... how things pan out....

when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.

as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.

"so, what's our game plan?"

her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.

it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.

during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.

clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.

"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.

clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.

"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.

but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.

y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"

clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.

the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.

clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.

as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.

clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.

she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.

clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.

"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.

y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.

all the air left clarisse's lungs.

with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.

neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.

this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.

unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.

clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.

for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.

the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.

once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.

y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.

y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.

"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.

clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.

[madschiavelique]

concept : anxious!reader x miguel o’hara

this contains nsfw content at the end in the "nsfw bonus" part, content warnings : fingering

okay so i had this idea a few days ago and i felt like i just had to share it because it's really sweet and fluffy (and also because this idea comes from someone who is very anxious and needs comfort)

you're a nervous reader that always plays with something from their body when they are feeling anxious, like your fingers or the skin around your nails, or pulling on scratching/trying to find imperfections on your skin to remove them, maybe even pulling on your eyebrow hairs

and imagine that Miguel notices that, and asks you "are you nervous ?"

you might answer yes, or that it's just something you do automatically without paying too much attention because it just feels a bit more calming/grounding, or you might even answer no because you don't want him to worry about your anxiety (since he already has so much to worry about)

but what happens is that whatever your answer is, he just takes your hand in his, and allows you to play with it

at first you might be reluctant because you don't want to bother him, the man's busier than a president and you don't want to occupy him with silly things like that

but he assures you he doesn't care, he would actually much prefer you to do this than continue picking at your own skin

so after him convincing you that it's totally okay for you to take his hand and do whatever you want with it when you're nervous, you accept

at the very beginning, you hadn't caught the reflex of taking his hand whenever you were anxious. when he noticed the few times where you were around him and still picking at your fingers, he just lended you his hand for you to take, and you'd take it

so you'd trace the lines of his palm, let your fingertips draw on his skin, sometimes just grabbing one of his fingers in full hand just like a baby would because damn this man's hands are so big

and he would allow you this in every occasion

suddenly feeling nervous while eating in the cafeteria ? he'd lend you his hand

feeling anxious before/after a mission ? he'll let you take his hand and will even caress yours with his thumb to soothe you

nervous during a meeting ? he'd give you his hand and would also allow you to draw on them if that can help you feel less nervous, although he'd still remind you to be serious during the meeting and to lend an ear to what was being said

it took about two good weeks to get you used to taking his hand in yours whenever you were feeling anxious, or just when you had the simple and sudden urge to pick at your own skin

he doesn't care that people look at you both with wide eyes when you start playing with his hand, they think it's just unusual for Miguel to allow this, because... well he is Miguel

and now, any time you felt the urge to give in your old habit, you'd come to him, no matter the time of day or the situation, and he'd gladly allow you to take his hand in yours

bonus nsfw :

if you feel way too anxious (without of course reaching the level of a panic attack) you might masturbate, just to help you calm down a bit

and when Miguel had asked you one day "but what do you do on days where you're feeling way too anxious fiddling with your fingers ?"

you had hesitated telling him, but as he can be very persuasive, he told you : "if you are getting way too anxious whether in the society or on a mission, I have to know how to deal with this."

so you told him, avoiding eye contact while doing so. you thought that he might consider this a bit too much, or unprofessional, but he just took your chin between his fingers to find your gaze, and said "if you ever are getting way too anxious and need this relief, you need to ask me from now on, okay ?"

you had agreed.

you had a code for that, very simple : you pressed his hand 3 times, and you both would immediately leave the place to find somewhere out of sight to get you to "calm down"

he'd be so sweet with you, praising you as he fingers you, his other hand caressing your back is soft motions

"you're doing so great, cariño," he'd murmur, "it's okay, i'm here, everything's okay"

you might or might not have sometimes squeezed his hand 3 times when you were not anxious at all... and he knew that very well

[ghostsstolemymoxie]

Do you have any nsfw/sfw hcs for Logan (James howlett)

I absolutely do! Though they're a little bit hodge-podge IMO I do have some HCs for him that I think align pretty well with comic and movie canon. HCs below are for Fem!Readers but I may potentially do one for Masc!Readers if I figure any new ones out.

SFW HCs first

↣ Logan absolutely goes insane when you play with his hair. Half because he gets annoyed when people mess up the style of it considering how it's a staple of his whole Wolverine-ness, but half because the sensation is comforting in a way he didn't expect. When he's drowsy and half-asleep or has woken up from a particularly bad nightmare, all you need to do is card your fingers through his hair, and as long as he's comfortable with you, he'll fall asleep right then and there.

↣ Logan isn't much of a cuddle bug, so he's not as likely to curl up and be the big spoon while you're sleeping. Mostly because he doesn't want to accidentally impale you if he wakes up from a nightmare and doesn't quite realise his surroundings. During the day though? The man will behave as if he is touch starved. Holding your hand or wrist to lead you somewhere, or an arm around your waist or his hand just tucked into your butt pocket whilst you're stood talking. Anything so that he can touch you and feel that you're there. On occasion, if you're particularly focused on something and he thinks he can get away with it, he'll just run his fingers up and down the curve of your spine, just to feel the warmth of you.

↣ This one is very X-men Evolutions coded but nobody touches the Harley. As far as he's concerned, touching the Harley means forfeiting the offending limb - especially if she gets scuffed, scratched, smeared or fingerprinted. The only exception is you, of course, since he trusts you to respect his belongings. He will still fuss over the bike though, and will offer a scowl and a grunt if you leave a fingerprint on her (though he'll forgive you as long as he gets to take a picture of you on the bike, just to keep in his wallet, of his two favourite ladies).

For the NSFW HCs

↣ Like most of Tumblr, I wholeheartedly believe that Logan eats for his pleasure. Logan's women don't go to bed dissatisfied, even if it means his jaw aches for the next three days. He's a firm believer in "Round one is for me, round two is for you" so even if he's quick off the mark first round (which he can't always help, depending on how you've been teasing him all day or just how much he's fucking missed you) you can bet that the second round will be all about you. If he's in a particularly evil mood, he'll make round two last for hours before even letting you finish, just long enough for him to have worked up an appetite of his own again and get stuck in for round three. For him, it's a revolutionary concept to be interested in the pleasure of his woman. After all, he was raised in the 1800s and grew up through the late 19th Century to the early 20th Century, where the pleasure of a lady wasn't always first and foremost. Despite appearances and how he may act sometimes, he does have a gentlemanly side to him, even if that side manifests in burying his tongue so deep in your cunt you can barely keep from screaming the walls down.

↣ Logan also absolutely gets off on taunting you about the difference in age between you both. Whether it's 2000s movie Logan who looks 30 or 2017 Logan who looks well into his 60s, both of them quite enjoy the knowledge that despite appearances, he's your goddamn elder, and you're going to respect him. That means obedience, teasing, and a lot of soft domming from 'your old man'. He'll call you 'kid' or 'bub' or 'young lady' when he's trying to reprimand you, and will revel in you calling him 'Daddy', 'Old man' or 'Sir', even if he feigns offence at first. He'll mock that "Kids like you don't fuck like we did in my day", "The only damn good thing about living this long is knowing how to make pretty young things like you squirm" or his favourite little quip "C'mon, I need a little more than an ankle flash these days, Princess" when you attempt to seduce him coyly, before finally offering a wolfish smile and a beckon with a crooked finger when you finally show him something that would be considered criminally lewd in his day.

So, yeah! Hopefully that was what you were looking for, and if you have any other questions or requests, please feel free to ask away (as long as you've read my pinned post <3 Divider credit @cafekitsune

[ridreamir]

I didn't see the Drayton x Reader hcs before when I sent that ask, I do apologise,

I was also wondering if you could do a Drayton x Reader who's physically affectionate and/or clingy,?

Like, they absolutely love physical touch and prefer to be touching, even if it's smthng as simple as legs touching,,,

Hello there! No worries about the double asks, I don't mind at all! I can absolutely write somethin for ya :^) No established romantic relationship, though it's heavily implied there's feelings that are somewhat sort of being acted upon.

Warning! Potential Spoilers for the Indigo Disk DLC!

Before you came to Blueberry Academy, it was obvious you weren't one for physical touch if it weren't from one of your Pokemon. You'd bristle at a hand on your shoulder and stiffen if he rested his arm on you. So Drayton saw an opportunity and he took it. Any moment he could, he'd be brushing against you, grazing you with his fingers and pulling at your bag straps just to mess with you. Whatever they were doing to you back in Paldea and Kitakami must've been something since you were so skittish and wary of everyone around you.

He got scolded multiple times by multiple people, Amarys even tried mediating. You've been through some things, they argued, he shouldn't be pushing your boundaries. Sounded like jealousy to him. And you know what? He was right, because after months of persisting, you'd gone and eased into it, adverting your eyes and sinking into his touch which had went from teasing to gentle in an instant.

Your little friend has been nothing but trembling with murderous intent since the first time you subconsciously leaned into his touch. Drayton's not against showing Kieran that he's lost again. Everyone who sees him as lazy can't seem to realize that he's actually just playing the long game. Obviously his methods are the best because who else but the Drayster managed to break down those walls you put up? No one! But... maybe he bit off a little more than he could chew, since you are... a lot. No one's even scratched the tip of the iceberg, but at some point he realized that you're less like a regular human being and more like a weird, unidentifiable creature of some sort in terms of your behaviors and mannerisms. Might be all the weird energies you've been exposed to, or maybe you were always this way. Either way, he's just started to crack the code and maybe it's something he wasn't prepared for.

Now it's hard to keep it on the down-low just how needy you really are. You want to be near him, regardless of the consequences. So much so that you've started to skip out on everyone else.

You're physically demanding, too. It's like the game flipped on him, because now he's the one who's scared you're going to be caught glomping on him and he's going to be hunted down for it. Kieran and his sister have already been brandishing their knives, he can't have the whole school after him! Plus, it all must look so... intimate from the outside. Of course, between you, you're nothing but good buds, but if a teacher saw you both entangled together they'd think the worst, and that'd not be good for either of you.

But, well, he certainly feels smug when you come and sit in his lap while he's playing on his phone. Even more so when the thrill of potentially getting caught could mean a furious little pipsqueak and the news getting out that you're his, his.

[prettyoatmeal]

General König Headcanons (x reader? Read AN)

Yeah, title is self explanatory, just some random headcanons I've thought of and need to get out of my head. There are some x reader headcanons. Even though it's not the majority, I've decided to include it in the title for the reason that there are some scattered within the mix. Take this as like a 'living with König' typa thing.

Content Warnings: None

Genre: All fluff, nothing explicit

Masterlist here!

***************

I feel like with his mental health history, he'd have some special way to calm himself down in stressful situations or just all the time.

Maybe a fidget toy? Like the small dimple ones.

Not too small since his hands are pretty above average in size, but yknow what I mean.

He'd need a way to release that nervousness or excitement he's feeling.

Though, his favourite things to fiddle with would probably be your hands. Running his fingertips along your middle finger down to your palm, gently stroking the skin, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours. Definitely comforting.

Would probably be a chronic nail biter and wears gloves outside his job to actually stop himself from tearing up his nail beds. Would have probably also used the bitter nail polish originally, but he probably found it too gross (behold, the function of the product). Found the gloves work way better. Out of sight, out of mind.

Since he has quite a large build, both in height and in muscle, he has trouble finding clothes his size in a lot of store. Trousers will fit his hips but the legs would be too short, or be too loose around his hips but legs are just right. He'd need to get them tailored to make sure they fit just right.

Would realise that taking so many pieces of clothing at once or over time to the seamstress would become expensive when repeated so many times, so he'd take on sewing as a hobby.

i.e. why he has his little DIY mask situation going on.

The mask had been made from a black shirt, so he'd be big on finding ways to save material and minimise the land waste.

Sewing would give him a nice distraction from the outside world, gives him time to do what he enjoys. It's a good way to kill time.

The needles would be so small compared to his fingers so he'd definitely need his gloves on for that just in case he were to accidentally prick himself.

Very big on keeping his home clean, gives him another distraction. Sweeping and mopping, generally tidying his desk and office, polishing furniture.

He finds himself very accomplished and happy with himself knowing he can keep his home looking pretty and spotless.

Speaking about something pretty,

Would have the prettiest puppy dog eyes ever.

Beautiful downturned eyes and heavy eyelids, probably green or blue, of course they give the prettiest eyes ever to the largest, most terrifying soldier.

During the time he's deployed, he'd be required to comply with KorTac's code of conduct and keep his hair cropped. Though when he has his time off, he likes growing it out and keeping it long. He finds it soothing to brush and comb through his locks, pinning his fringe out of his face with bobby pins as he curls the rest of his hair into a bun or a ponytail.

Uses special shampoos, conditioners and oils to keep his hair strong and healthy.

That being said, he loves when his S/O or a close friend plays with his hair.

Loves head scratches and massages, especially when it's someone else's hands.

If you listen really closely, you may just hear him purr as you work your fingertips along his scalp. Could definitely fall asleep to your massages.

That being said, when he's at home, he'd be a very heavy and very quiet sleeper. Maybe a few small hums is all you would be able to hear from him.

Waking him up would be a bit of a challenge as he'd be so exhausted from returning home that he'd be knocked out for a good 12+ hours.

Won't be all for braiding flowers into his hair, but if you do it for him then he's never taking them out.

Same with friendship bracelets or necklaces or rings. He wouldn't really be one to wear jewellery of any kind, but will forever wear whatever accessory you give him without any second thought.

Gives me big nose vibes (what Doja said), tooth gap, split lip, prominent, visible scarring along his lips and nose.

Due to how his sheer size already and he's prone to standing out in a crowd regardless of what he's wearing, I feel like he'd want to keep a mask on a lot of the time.

He's already way above average in his build, the last thing he'd want to do is draw anymore attention to himself.

That being said, he probably has the best skincare routine ever.

Cleanser, toner, serum, moisturiser, then sunscreen in the morning or a different cream at night.

In comparison to his rougher hands, you bet his cheeks are soft and plush. That being said, I reckon he'd keep his face shaven, maybe a little stubble.

WEARS READING GLASSES!!!!!!

Would wear those old man glasses with the thin metal frames and wide lenses.

Grandpa energy even though he's just in his early to mid thirties.

Will occasionally ask for help to define words for him if he reads or hears one which he doesn't know the meaning for.

"Engel, what does.. coi..tus.. 'coitus' mean? and why did the audience laugh after Sheldon had said it.. I don't understand American humour."

Since he enlisted in the military at age 17, barely an adult, he'd missed out on a lot of key moments in life like graduation at high school or a university, or finding himself a lover and marrying them, getting drunk or doing drugs with your best mates for the first time. He's lost a lot of time in the military, it makes him a little sad thinking how much he's devoted his life to becoming a mercenary. So when he's with you, he spends his time enjoying doing little things with you, such as when cooking or cleaning together.

Wouldn't prefer to go out and do anything out in public, but if you ask him really nicely, he'll go out with you to a park or a communal area for a sit down or to have an ice cream or whatever you're feeling.

Plays candy crush.

On level 1496.

Very talented with his thumbs.

***************

Yeah thats all :3 hope you enjoyed

Goodnight <3

[mcondance]

the way u write stu is so accurate like YES he is a little freak !!!! he’s so weird and gross and mean enough to make u cry a lil bit but not mean enough to make u hate him. loves to play with ur hair and then tug on a curl just to piss u off, or he’ll pretend to go in for a sweet kiss then bite ur lip so hard that his two front teeth are imprinted on your bottom lip. he’s the type of boyfriend to keep his hand in ur back pocket whenever ur walking around together and will unabashedly whisper dirty things in ur ear when ur hanging out with ur mutual friends and doesn’t give a fuuuuuuck if anyone else hears. i feel like he’s also obsessed with hickies and marks u leave during sex. he will straight up beg u to scratch his back hard enough for it to bleed a bit and leave angry red streaks that don’t go away for at least a week. he def leaves the biggest hickies that are a pain in the ass to cover up and he gets so pouty when u put makeup over them but it just fuels him to make them bigger and darker >:( he’s just a little sicko but he’s my little sicko so it’s fine <3

(also can i be 🧋 anon plz :p)

loved this msg. (reader is Black coded so if some of this doesn’t apply to y’all erm its in the rules so just… make do)

“he’s so weird and gross and mean enough to make u cry a lil bit but not mean enough to make u hate him”

yeah fucking definitely. he’s mean!! you hate him!! but then he shows his affection for you in his own freaky little way and it’s all alright…. until the next time.

“he’ll pretend to go in for a sweet kiss then bite ur lip so hard that his two front teeth are imprinted on your bottom lip.”

“gimme kiss,” he demands childishly, leaning in before he even gets the words out all the way. you never know what to expect, it’s a tie between him sticking his tongue down your throat, biting the hell out of your lip, or a simple peck.

you get your answer when you brave the unknown and lean in toward him.

“fuck!” you spit, hand flying up to your lip and eyes narrowing at the (unfortunately) beautiful psycho who’s smiling at you with that stupid, familiar glint in his eyes.

“and will unabashedly whisper dirty things in ur ear when ur hanging out with ur mutual friends and doesn’t give a fuuuuuuck if anyone else hears.”

he doesn’t even make any excuses. he doesn’t tell you that he can’t help it or you’re too pretty to resist. he lets you know that he’s doing this because you’re fucking enticing, he doesn’t care about what anyone else may happen to hear, and because he can.

with your head in his lap, he whispers “i really wanna fuck you right now.” you haven’t done anything particularly erotic, maybe it’s your face, maybe your legs look pretty in the little shorts you have on, whatever.

“you haven’t got more grace than that, stu?” billy questions.

“no. i don’t.” stu deadpans. you giggle, looking over at billy and sidney before bringing your eyes back to your boyfriend, and he’s already smiling down at you. “so?”

“maybe.”

“i feel like he’s also obsessed with hickies and marks u leave during sex. he will straight up beg u to scratch his back hard enough for it to bleed a bit and leave angry red streaks that don’t go away for at least a week.”

he is! he’s a switch through and through but even aside from that, love and affection shown in physical and altering ways is something he needs. he needs to be able to spend minutes in front of his mirror eating up the marks and dark blue hickies you left on his neck in one of your needy little fits when he had you grinding crazy on his dick. he needs to see the bruises you left with your fingers cause he’s good with his dick and you could only take it cause it was too good, and you had his arm to release your pleasure on.

he also needs to spot hickies and marks on you when you show him a polaroid you took with sidney earlier. he needs to see you around campus and find the dark mark on your neck that he’d sucked into your skin just last night. the fucker works extra hard to make sure the marks show against your skin, thorough and crazed with his obsession with the visual reminders.

[frillyheathen]

Stardew Valley Bachelor & Bachelorette D&D Classes

Harvey- Cleric or Wizard

Sebastian- Wizard

Sam- Bard

Shane- Ranger

Alex- Fighter

Elliott- Bard or Paladin

Maru- Artificer

Abigail- Warlock or Sorcerer

Penny- Rogue or Druid

Emily- Monk

Haley- Barbarian

Leah- Druid

Reasoning:

Harvey is being typecast as the healer class because he's a doctor, sorry. But also he gives big wizard vibes because that man has studied. Why not a paladin? Because paladins are beefy and I think Harvey would actually die if someone punched him.

Sebastian is a wizard because he codes and that is a strong wizard activity right there. Also I imagine in a fight he would prefer to sit in the back and cast spells rather than be up in the action.

Sam plays the guitar and has that shonen protagonist charm, so he's a bard.

Shane loves his chickens and so you know he has to be the class with the animal companions.

Alex could be typecast as the barbarian because he's buff and likes American football (my bad I mean gridball), but I feel he's far too cool-headed to be the barbarian. So into the fighter class he goes.

Elliott has strong bard aesthetics due to his whole...everything, but I can also see him being the character that gives a motivational speech about strength and virtue before a fight and that is strong paladin vibes. And in the words of my brother, "He has a paladin chin."

Maru loves building robots so you know she's gotta be the artificer.

Abigail seems like the most likely to make a deal with an entity for power, so that's why I can see her being a warlock. But also the Wizard is almost certainly her father, so she may have some magic in her bloodstream.

Penny...hear me out. Penny is a bit of a wallflower, so I can see her inadvertently filling the role of the rogue and sneaking around. But also she really loves nature and I can see her pursuing the art of becoming a druid.

Emily is the only character in Stardew Valley with the zen, inner focus, and serial killer eyes to channel magical energy through her body and use it to punch someone really really hard.

Haley is probably the character that uses her angry portrait the most often, so you know she's gotta be the barbarian. I can see her as one of those girls who got into a lot of fights in high school and she would fight dirty--we're talking hair pulling and scratching.

Leah lives close the woods and she loves all the little forage items, so she is the strongest candidate for a druid.

[ctrl-alt-vibeshift]

in defense of the brat album art

my feed stopped when charli xcx dropped the album art for her upcoming sixth studio album "brat" a few weeks ago. like many angels, i was confused at first, as the image staggered out of the code on her merch site unannounced through a vinyl preorder link that originally had no image to go with it (and yes i ordered one before seeing any visuals...). even after she tweeted it, and the creative team posted about their contributions to it, questions were left unanswered. was it real? was it just a placeholder? was it an alternative cover for the brat_360 exclusive vinyl? this is not the album cover right? one angel dared ask our god in her twitter replies.

even before i got official confirmation that this was indeed the official cover, which i think came from charli's interview with vogue after the release of lead single von dutch, i was obsessed. the green: neon, but not tacky like the overdone highlighter trend already claimed by k-pop boy group nct, rather a muted, dull lime, catching your eye but not blinding you. the font: a simple sans serif, slightly condensed and elongated, nothing over-the-top or borderline illegible like the custom fonts artists usually commission. and the blur, the pixelization, the resolution, the quality (or lack thereof)—this is what really does it for me.

they're barely there, the rough, blurred edges of each letter, but once you see them you can't unsee them. the design evokes the feeling of waiting for an image to load in full quality on instagram, a youtube video playing in less than 1080p while buffering, a hi-res photo downloading from the cloud, a show or movie lagging its way into clarity on streaming services. or as oomf (@_alienmelissa) using a fan edit of von dutch lyrics put it:

(trans: lyric videos around 2008 all had fonts and backgrounds like this..........)

while thinking about the many implications of the low quality text on the cover, i read the essay "in defense of the poor image" written by hito steyerl in e-flux journal back in 2009, which perfectly put into words what i had been ruminating on:

[The poor image] mocks the promises of digital technology. Not only is it often degraded to the point of being just a hurried blur, one even doubts whether it could be called an image at all. Only digital technology could produce such a dilapidated image in the first place.

"one even doubts whether it could be called an image album cover at all," as many have due to the "poorness" of the brat art. better yet, steyerl goes on to proclaim "resolution was fetishized as if its lack amounted to castration of the author," also predicting the mass ridicule of charli for choosing and releasing such a "hurried blur" of an album art design.

regardless of what you compare it to, the low-res, early internet digital aesthetic it speaks to is something i haven't seen spoken much about. many twitter gays are up in arms about the lack of an image of charli on it, breaking her faceful cover streak (although she does hide it a bit on pop 2), and not giving them a new image to set their profile pictures to. charli has acknowledged this in the vogue interview: “I mean, as a female pop artist, what’s more bratty than not being on your album cover? Especially when there is so much pressure for women within the pop sphere to do exactly that," as well as in a tweet posted right before i started writing this:

which grimes replied to while i was writing this:

grimes scratches at what i'm getting at, but is more focused on the shock value that comes with its loud simplicity. this sentiment of breaking the feed, cutting through the visual muck and endless faces with a bold monotone color and by refusing to show face, is something i also admire. yet i think why i feel so passionately about the aesthetic value of this cover is that it offers me a respite from the overflow of high-res images mediated through the internet and onto my phone screen.

i'm so sick of the flood of iphone/digital photography, its quality increasing with each new device release. these images try too hard to replicate what they're representing, and create a false reality that many (myself included) get trapped in. we've sunken into the uncanny valley, and it's about time we claw ourselves out. i don't want to experience the physical through the digital anymore. i'd rather see all your pores when you're inches from my face than through the insane number of pixels resting in my palm. i want the images on the internet to be so obviously contained within it that there's no mistaking them for something material. i think this is why i'm such a fan of camcorder style photography and videos: like the chunky pixels surrounding "brat," they whisper i'm not real, i'm flawed technology, i will never replace the resolution of your retinas.

lucky for me, brat isn't the first artwork to do so, as there seems to be a shift back towards the materiality of the offline and the rougher edges of early internet interfaces within the broader art and design world as well. kat kitay describes this as "technoromanticism" in her essay "what's after post-internet art?" for spike magazine:

Exposed circuitry departs from the post-internet gloss typified by DIS Magazine, which shined up or hid away the ugly parts of technology. Hardware is made visible, laying bare the flow of power and information, at the same time transfiguring electronics into sacred objects. 

replace DIS magazine with PC music (its audio equivalent imo) and you'll get an analogy more relevant to charli's own aesthetic journey here. the super slick black lamborghini on the cover of the vroom vroom ep has driven off, her impossibly iridescent skin on the cover of pop 2 has shed its shine, and the skyscraper she's perched on for the cover of xcx world (RIP) has long been toppled, leaving nicki minaj's gag city in its ashes. the brat cover is the antithesis to these eras.

while ecco2k croons all i wanna see is 1080p / but reality keep me on 240 on "hold me down like gravity," maybe it's time to embody the "240" of reality again. with charli teasing this record as her clubbiest to date, tapping back into her party girl roots attending uk raves in her tweens, brat offers us a chance, both visually and sonically, to embrace the blur, the sweat, the adrenaline, the tears, and of course, the poppers fumes, of a low-res life.

[riveroftales]

:+:-・:+:-・𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍:+:-・:+:-

ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛ ɢɪʏᴜᴜ x ғᴇᴍ! ғʟᴏʀɪsᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝘾𝙒! 𝖦𝗂𝗒𝗎𝗎'𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾

“Hello!” You smiled as you walked in the tattoo parlour, holding a box. “I have a delivery?”

“Oh! Hi!” A pretty girl with one tatted arm of a swarm of butterflies smiled back. “Are those the African Violets?”

“Mhm! Got 5 small pots in it, just as requested.”

“Thank you so much! You can leave them on the counter, and I believe the manager already paid?”

You listened to the girl, gently dropping the box near the register.

“Eh? I was told I’d be paid in person after I delivered it.”

“Ah, I see! Please wait for a bit then, I’ll go get the manager.”

You nodded as the girl walked away. Looking around, you took in the sight of the parlour. The whole place was kept neat and you saw a few bottles of tattoo ink.

Looking at the posters on the wall, you wondered if you could also get one.

What would it be?

As cliche as it was, you wanted a flower tattoo. A pretty flower of any kind.

There are a lot of pretty flowers.

“Hello.” A man emerged from the back.

But he’s prettier than flowers.

“Kocho, the girl you saw here, reminded me about the payment.” There wasn’t an expression present on his face, but his demeanour was soft.

“It’s fine. Honestly, things like this happen.” You smiled softly.

The man cleared his throat.

“How much is it?”

“$30.”

“Do you take credit?”

You nodded as you took your phone out.

“Yup! Just scan this and we’ll be good to go!”

He unlocked his own phone before scanning the QR code you put up on your screen.

“Thank you for your purchase!”

You sprayed the small bonsai tree on your windowsill with a spray bottle, humming along to the soft music you were playing in the back. The door opened.

“Oh! Welcome!” You smiled warmly to the customer, just for a blush to rise to your face.

The handsome tattoo artist.

“Hey.” He scratched the back of his head. “I.. Uhm. I need to make a new purchase.”

“Of course! Please feel free to look around and take your pick! I’ll make sure to deliver it myself as well.”

To your surprise, he laughed softly.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’d like to make a new purchase for you. I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM.

“Eh?”

“I don’t really like stalling.. you already should have my number on your order history. Just text me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. If it’s ’no’, that’s fine. If it’s a ‘yes’, you can send me your address if you want me to pick you up. Be ready by 7:30 PM.” He smiled softly before putting his hands in his pockets, turning around to leave the shop.

“Wait!” You stopped. “How are you so confident I’ll come?”

He smiled. “You go on blind dates, right? Only difference is that you know what I look like.”

A small laugh came out of you.

“See you then, princess.”

A smile formed on your expression as you recalled the memory. You finished cutting the stems of your flowers and you started to arrange them.

You relocated your office. The store was still the same, but now, your office was in a different part. It was facing the tattoo parlour right across.

You could still remember how the parlour was once the size of a small grocery store, but now, it had undergone renovations and it looked better than ever. You counted 7 new clients.

My Love, you still ready for tonight?

You received a text.

Yep! Just gotta finish a small arrangement for a client who’s getting married soon

You got a response almost immediately.

That’s odd. I don’t remember proposing to you?

GIYUU

I’m kidding, Princess <3

You let out a small huff before smiling. Finishing the arrangement, you put it away at a safe spot in your office before grabbing your bag and walking to the other side of the road to the tattoo parlour.

You wanted to spend a little more time with Giyuu even though you were still going out for a date later that evening. Time just felt so beautiful when you were with him. A little unfortunately, you forgot your phone at your office and hence didn’t see the next two messages from him.

<<Image attachment>>

Heads up: I’m going to propose to you tonight with this ring. Don’t cry, okay? Just say yes or no. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I love you <3 get all dolled up for me, okay?

Ahhhh low-key hate this but I was desperate to upload smth T^T

I MIGHT rewrite this later bsjsjsjsjsj

[her-power]

Last Chance to Dance (Part Five: Rockstar! e.m x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Last Chance to Dance Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

A/N: I'm baaaaaaack. I'm feeling so much better. My son is getting better, and he's still his same goofy one year old self. This ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but the final part will be Part Six! I think you're going to like how I end it. My next series is still brewing in my nogging right now, and I have a few one shot ideas. ALSO, the next series will be a surprise release. What's the theme? You may wonder. Well...I don't know yet! Lmao. I'm just gonna go with the flow, and let my fingers do the talking. (That sounds a little dirty, right? Meh. The dirtier the better!) The series might be based off of a sequence of dreams I have been having of our precious Eddie Munson/Joseph Quinn. I just have to figure out what the fuck they mean. Anyways, I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I also didn't proof read this, again, I let my fingers do the talking. ;)

Summary: Full Summary on Part One

Word Count: 7.4k

Seven months ago… It was a busy day at the hospital; it was so short staffed they had to call you down from oncology to fill in in the ICU. You were straddling a young man on a gurney who had come in with an overdose, doing chest compressions as they wheeled him into the room. He wasn’t responsive, he still had a pulse, but there was no reaction to his pupils or muscle movement. You knew he was likely brain dead; he had been unconscious for twenty minutes before he was found. It didn’t take much time for your brain to die out when there wasn’t any oxygen. You hopped off his gurney, another nurse took over with compressions because you were getting tired; the doctor on call had given him more Narcan, but then he started to code. They attempted to shock his heart two times before they called it. He was only twenty, another young life lost. 

You had gone outside for a break; you barely smoked cigarettes anymore but today was one of those days where you were really craving the nicotine. It was a warm day, summer was around the corner, but you could never shake the chills you had when a patient dies. You only had an hour left of your shift, and then you could go home, shower off the day, and then enjoy your next two days off.  You were playing a puzzle game on your phone when an unknown number shows up on your screen. You answer, the man on the other end asks if it was you, you say it was, and you’re not sure if you should hang up, or keep listening. 

“My name is Ted Callahan, I’m a longtime friend of the band Corroded Coffin, and their manager.” 

Your breath hitches for a moment, you scratch your head, confused on what was happening. “Uh…I don’t—”

Corroded Coffin. You have known that name longer than the world has, more than half your life. 

“Listen, I know this is out of the blue, but I’m kind of at a loss right now. I’m calling because, Eddie is…he’s going through some stuff right now. He’s been mentioning you a lot lately, and I never even knew you existed until a few weeks ago, but…just hearing him talk about you, and your history, even though I don’t know much. I was wondering if you could help.” He sounds kind, you say to yourself, also exhausted. You never thought you would hear his name again, or even think he'd ever want to associate himself with you again. 

“Me?” You say, almost laughing. “I don’t…I haven’t spoken to Eddie in…God, going on fifteen years now. We didn’t…we didn’t end on good terms, I’m surprised he even remembers me, I…” I think about him every day still. 

“He said you were his first and only love…listen, honey. I’m gonna give it to you straight here. He almost died a few weeks ago, well, not almost, he did...for probably about five minutes. He overdosed on heroin and now he is in rehab after a legal issue in New York City with a few officers and the paramedics that revived him. I know it’s not your responsibility to save him, but I thought maybe you could reach out to him somehow…a phone call, letter. I don’t know what you kids do these days.” 

“He almost died?” You almost whisper it; your breath is caught in your throat and your stomach turns sour. 

“I’m not gonna make you do something you don’t want to do, honey. I don’t know exactly what happened with you two, but…there’s a spark that lights up in his eyes when he talks about you that I haven’t seen in a long time. You must have been really special to him.” He tells you softly. 

“I don’t know about that.” You whisper. If I was so special, why did he leave? 

“Will you at least save my number? Just let me know what you decide. Again, I’m sorry to dump this all on you. I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think it was gonna make an impact on him…because I think if this rehab and sobriety thing doesn’t work, I’m afraid he’ll be dead in a year.” 

You rub your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’ll…I’ll think about it. I’ll save your number.”

“Thank you…you have a very kind voice.” He says and you mutter a thanks, you too, and awkwardly hang up the phone. You’re not entirely sure what to think, you just knew you had to get back to work and you would deal with this later. 

You tried not to think about him on the drive home; it was hard not to. Most days you went without thinking about him even though he was so very present on your heart. You’ve dated other people off and on for years, but nothing ever stuck. They were good men, but they were lacking something you quite couldn’t put your finger on. They weren’t him. You rolls your eyes at yourself, you hated how pathetic you felt when you thought about him. He was this famous rockstar, making millions, selling out stadiums and releasing records and most likely fucking every single woman that met him, but you still loved him. You still loved him after everything he put you through, you still loved him even though it had been fifteen years. It broke your heart hearing that he was using heroin, that it had gotten so bad he is now in a rehab. You weren’t sure how helpful you would be to reach out to him, or if he would even respond. You were still shocked when Ted told you he kept talking about you. It took everything in your power not to call him back and tell him to never contact you again because that part of your life was over. 

Or was it?

You thought it was over. Fifteen years ago, it was. When he had ripped out your heart and stomped on it. When he had left you standing in the middle of the street, on a cold night in Hawkins, as you silently cried, repeating the words he said: “I can’t do this anymore.” He never gave you a reason why, even as he sobbed while he was telling you those words. The next day he was actually gone; Gareth, him and Jeff loaded up his van, and had left before the sun had risen that morning. You had grieved him and were on the way to finish grad school for nursing when you saw their faces on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine. After that, their songs were on the radio, they were on everyone’s social media. He was everywhere, and you couldn’t get rid of him. You hated how good their music was, and you couldn’t believe the first song on their first album was the one the two of you wrote together. You remember that day like the back of your hand; it was summertime, senior year of high school was around the corner. You were two nerds in love, and no matter where you went, he was always by your side. You had always loved writing poetry, and that was what started the idea of you writing a few verses for him. 

The wind whips your hair as you attempt to turn the page in your book with one hand, trying to shift the weight of the warm body near you as your lean against the trunk of a tree. Eddie was laying in your lap, writing in his composition notebook. Your other hand was gently curling through his hair, massaging his scalp. He sets his notebook down on his stomach and gazes up at you. You look at him and smile, your eyes going back to your book. His hand reaches up to play with your hair, and he grins. “What are you reading?” 

“The collected poems of Sylvia Plath.” You tell him, not meeting his eyes.

He moans softly. “’I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. I think I made you up inside my head.’”

“Didn’t know you could read.” You say with a smirk and he laughs. 

“She’s the only woman that has allowed me inside her head, unlike someone I know.” He sits up, seating himself between your legs as you feel his eyes burn into the side of your face. You look at him, placing the bookmark to save your place. He’s smirking that smirk, and you lean back against the tree. 

“You’ve known me your whole life, you still haven’t figured me out?” He smiles and shakes his head. You reach your hand out to grip his chin. “Am I really that hard to read?” 

“Yes.” He says with a laugh. “You’re a mystery to me. I want to know what goes on inside that pretty little noggin of yours.” He leans forward, kissing your lips softly. You smile against his lips. 

“Give me your notebook. I’ll give you a little taste.” 

“Ooooh.” He says, groaning softly, brushing his lips against yours. “Don’t tempt me to taste other things.” 

A shudder goes through you, and you try to hide your blush. He giggles, rubbing your cheek softly, pushing his notebook into your chest. “Write me a song.” 

“I’m not sure if my thoughts are heavy metal material.” You tell him, turning to a blank page and uncapping the pen. He kisses your neck gently; his fingers lightly graze against the soft skin on your arm. Your eyes flutter close at his touch and you press the tip of the pen on the paper. He still gently caresses your skin, his soft lips leaving kissing trails along your neck and jaw. He was lucky you were in a public park, because you were about to say fuck the writing and lift up your dress just to feel him inside you. Well, that has never stopped you two before. 

He rests his head against your shoulder, letting out a peaceful sigh as you write. You’re not sure where it had come from, it felt dark as you stare at the words. You feel Eddie’s palm gently rub over the fabric where your stomach was, gently kneading. Your stomach twitches as he tickles you and he laughs quietly. “Is that a new spot?” He bites his lip, kissing your neck again. 

“Shhh, I’m almost done.” You tell him with a grin. His hand travels below your belly, gently cupping your mound and a small gasp escapes your lips. “Eddie…hands.” 

“Sorry.” He mutters and kisses your cheek. He watches you as you write more on the page. You hand him back the pen and the notebook. “Read it to me.” 

Your eyes widen slightly. “No, I’m embarrassed.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” He tells you with a sweet smile. 

You sigh. “Fine. But don’t laugh at me.” He rests his head against your shoulder as you begin. “They say these ‘violent delights, have violent ends’ but is it so violent, that when the world ends in fire and ice, I’d rather freeze my soul, to be reborn, in a world not so cruel. Soulless eyes stare back into me, terrified of what they’ve seen. A little girl lost, but you found her in the pits of despair and agony. Kissed her tears, tasted her until she felt you in her very core and called you hers. A daughter of the night, the sun burns too bright, the sun burns too bright.” 

Eddie lifts his head from your shoulder and stares at you in awe. “Wow…that was…” 

“Horrible.”

“No! No, sweetheart.” He cups your face. “I didn’t know you could write like that. Why have you been holding out on me?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I didn’t think I was that great.” 

“This definitely heavy metal song material.” He takes the notebook from your hands, pressing his lips deeply against yours, holding the side of your face, his tongue licking your lips begging for entrance. You curl your fingers through his hair, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around as he kisses you. He pulls away, leaving small pecks on your lips. You were breathless, being kissed by him was always so breathtaking to you but he caught you off guard with this one. 

“What was that?” You giggle, staring into his big brown eyes. 

“I just…love you.” He rubs your cheek. “I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

He didn’t. And he didn’t love you, he was just lying about it, because why would it be that simple with him? That’s why this decision would make it hard for you. What would you gain from it? A mended friendship? That’s better than nothing, you thought. You didn’t want him to die; your stomach turns at the thought. What an idiot. You shake your head, what the hell was he thinking using heroin? What brought him to that point in his life to make that choice? You sigh, feeling defeated. What would you even say to him in the letter? Would you tell him that you’ve been thinking about him this whole time? No, that sounds pathetic. 

You groan. You pick up the pen, and you just write. 

Present Day - Eddie

I don’t think I’ve left my bedroom at all today. Maybe once to get something to eat. I was in my cabin in New York, Gareth has been staying with me. I know most of it is to keep an eye on me, but I know he doesn’t want to be alone either. It had snowed last night, there was over a foot on my property; Gareth had offered to take my truck to plow, I didn’t say no, I would’ve done it, but it probably would’ve stayed like that until Ted’s services. He wanted a combined wake and funeral; he was going to be buried where his parents were. We had to be in Vermont the day after tomorrow.  I was laying on my side, staring at the wall, and I hear my bedroom door open. I feel the bed shift as Gareth lays next to me. It wasn’t unusual, us to be laying in the same bed. For months we only had my van to drive and sleep in to play music gigs across different states, and the three of us would have to get comfortable being close. “You need to get up, man.” He tells me softly. 

“I will.” I mutter. 

“When?” I can feel his eyes digging into the back of my skull, I squeeze my eyes shut and then snap them open. Everytime I close my eyes I see Ted’s lifeless face, I hear my cries, feel the unbearable weight of the grief. 

“When I go to the bathroom again.” I feel myself smirking and I hear him chuckle a little. 

“You’re scaring me.” He says after a moment of silence. 

“I shouldn’t be.” I say quietly. “I don’t have a needle in my arm.” 

“Not yet.” 

“I love your words of support; it’s always so appreciated.” I say with an eye roll and turn on my back to face him. “I’m not gonna use again.” 

He looks at me, and I see the shy, awkward little kid that I met all those years ago, the kid I took punches for, who I would still take punches for. “How do you know that?” He does look scared, exhausted, sad…really fucking sad. 

I feel my throat close up as tears spring to my eyes. “Because if I do…all the work that I did…all the love and support he gave me even when I was at my worst…that all dies with him. And I can’t do that to him. Not again.” 

His eyes are watery, and he looks away from me, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t lose you too, Eddie. I really, really don’t think I’d make it.” 

I grab his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m not going anywhere, man.” 

“What are we gonna do?” He whispers, and I see a tear fall down his cheek and onto my pillow. “He was the heart of our band…what are we supposed to do? Get a new manager?” 

“No.” I say, surprised at how stern I sound. “We don’t need a manager. He taught us everything we needed to know.” 

“It’s not gonna be easy.” He says with a soft laugh. 

“Did he ever have it easy with us?” 

“With us, yes. With you?” He meets my eyes and smiles. 

I laugh. “He did his best, that’s all we wanted.” 

“And he was good at it.” 

“That’s why we can’t get a new manager. It won’t be worth it.” I let out a loud sigh, your face flashes through my mind for a moment and I shudder, trying to not think of you. Gareth can sense my internal demise. 

“You should call her.” 

“No.” I say immediately. 

He sits up to lean against the headboard, looking down at me. “I don’t know why you’re so upset with her. She loves you.”

“She only contacted me because Ted asked her to. That’s not love, that’s pity.” I scoff, running my hands through my hair. I smell ripe, I definitely need to shower. 

“I mean…you walked out on her, Eddie. The fact that she was even willing to give you a chance again after all these years, it shows that she’s loved you this entire time. She started doing chest compressions on Ted the second I said to call 911, she didn’t even hesitate. She just did it. She is the same kind, caring, stupidly beautiful girl that she’s always been. She may have gotten older, but it didn’t hurt her insides. And she loves you, dude. I see her look at you the same way she did fifteen years ago, she’d still go to bat for you. Why does that scare you so much? To let love in like that?” 

“Because why would she love me? All I’ve done is cause her pain.” My voice sounds far away; I hate feeling vulnerable.  

“And have been causing yourself pain in the process. Eddie, you’ve been in love with her forever. Like since before you even started dating. You’ve been through everything together. There’s a reason why Ted reached out to her; there’s a reason why after all these years you get that chance to be with her again. Don’t let this be the thing that takes her away forever.” 

I glance up at him, scowling. “I hate that you have a way with words. I just wanted to kiss you just now.” 

He laughs, patting my head. “Don’t let her go. You’d be stupid to do that again.” He hops off the bed and turns to look at me from the doorway. “You fucking stink, go take a shower.” 

I put up my middle finger and we both laugh; I watch as he walks away and closes my door. I sigh, groaning at the stupid regret I feel in the pits of my stomach. He was right, I’ve been in love with you for so long sometimes it was hard to breathe. I force myself out of bed; it’s like thinking of you was the push I needed. I remember the day I told you I loved you for the first time, I was having the worst anxiety; I remember Uncle Wayne telling me that the worst thing that could happen is that you wouldn’t feel the same way, and that just made me feel worse. It was just a normal night for us, we were smoking pot in the back of my van. It was cold this night, you had a fleece blanket wrapped around your knees, you were singing bohemian rhapsody in all the voices, and I couldn’t handle how funny you were being, I was almost going into a straight panic attack. 

“Please, stop. I can’t…I can’t breathe!” I laugh loudly. 

“For meeeeee, for meeeeeeeee!” You start head banging and ended up whacking your head off of Gareth’s high hat, which causes me to laugh even harder. “Ow! Fuck.” You laugh holding your head and I gently lift your hair to check to make sure there wasn’t a severe injury. 

“That’s what you get.” I laugh, gently smoothing out your hair. You giggle, moving Gareth’s high hat out of the way to make more room. You were wearing a black zip up hoodie, and only a bra underneath. I only knew that because when you leaned over I could only see the hills of your breasts. And I know that’s why you were so cold. Oh, how I wanted to unzip that hoodie even lower, just to see you, see all of you. I hated my hormonal thoughts, it always gave me an erection whenever I thought of you that way. And I have always thought of you as something more, not just my best friend, but someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. I felt stupid thinking like that, we were only seventeen, we were babies. 

“What?” You snap me out of my thought. 

“Huh?” I say. 

You laugh. “You’re just staring at me, are you having a moment? Are you too high?” 

“Let’s not talk about whether I’m too high or not because you know it will send me into a spiral thinking my eyeballs aren’t closing.” I laugh nervously. 

“They’re not closing.” You smirk at me. 

I growl at you. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

You laugh loudly, nudging me with your shoulder, moving yourself onto my lap. I could feel how cold you were, so I wrap my arms around the top of you, gently rubbing your shoulders. It wasn’t unusual for you to do this, we have always been each other's human security blankets, but I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I needed to tell you, just to get it out. Just to let you know that I’ve loved you since I understood what that word meant. That if you didn’t feel the same way, at least you’d know. I’m playing with your hair; my fingers gently go behind your neck and massage the skin. You softly moan a little, and I swallow hard. 

“I have to tell you something.” I whisper to you. You turn your head in my lap to look at me, you have a small smile on your face. My hand gently goes to your chin, and I let out a shaky breath. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You sit up to look at me. 

“I…I um…” I laugh nervously, running my hands through my hair. I stare at your face, your lips. “I’m in love with you.” I give you a little shrug and a small smile. 

You stare at me for a moment, and I can see the gears in your brain turning. “I know this is out of nowhere and I’m sorry…even if you don’t feel the same I just wanted you to-“ 

Your lips are on mine suddenly, your hands cup my face. My hands nervously go to your waist as the kiss deepens, I feel your tongue graze mine gently, and I shudder. You pull away, staring into my eyes, my lips. You hold my face and I stare at you in awe. “I love you too.” You whisper and I can feel my grin getting wider.

“Really?” I ask you and you nod. 

“Since forever.” You say, leaning forward to kiss me again, I hold your face when we pull away. “You’re my person.” 

I smile again, pressing my lips to yours. You push your body onto mine, straddling my waist with your legs.  I wrap both my arms around your waist, moving slightly to lay you on your back. The rug to my van was an old shag carpet, but it was comfortable. You didn’t feel cold anymore. Your hands move under my shirt, I shudder at your touch, your soft hands. I move my lips to your neck, pulling the zipper down, kissing both hills of your breasts. You let out a soft sigh, your fingers curling through my hair as I cup one of your breasts, kissing in between them. I grip your jean clad thigh, hooking it tighter around my waist and grind against you. The friction plus the pressure causes a throaty moan to escape me and you sit up. You stare at me, your lips swollen from our kiss, and you unzip the hoodie, sliding it off of you and I watch as your hands to behind your back, unhooking your bra. The straps fall slightly down your shoulders and I watch as you shyly let the bra slip away from you. I lean back on my heels, my palms on your knee as my eyes scan your body. I’ve always imagined this; but this was better than what I had imagined. I lean forward between your legs, kissing you deeply. My lips go down to your neck, and I glance up at you, making sure everything was still okay before I did what I did. You lean back to get more comfortable, and I pull your nipple into my mouth. You let out a moan, which caused me to almost explode in my own jeans. The closest I’ve ever gone with a girl was feeling her up, this was brand new to me, and I could tell it was for you too. I wanted to taste all of you, I wanted to know what your sex tasted like, I wanted to know what would make you scream. I move my lips down to kiss your ribs, your naval and I snap the button of your jeans. You arch your hips, helping me pull them down and this is the first time I’m seeing you in your underwear. My fingers knead your thighs and I look into your eyes. 

“Can I taste you?”

Your face turns crimson, it made you look so much more beautiful, and you nod, biting your lip. “I’ve never done this before.” 

“You know I haven’t.” I laugh, and I stare at you as I move my palm to the top of your underwear. The fabric was damp, and I feel a smile toy at my lips, gently moving your underwear to the side. My hands shake a little as the tips of my fingers graze your clit, I watch as your head falls back, and a soft moan escapes you. I rub you gently, feeling your opening. I gently slide a finger into you and your back arches, I couldn’t believe how tight you felt. I scoot back to my stomach, wrapping my arms around your thighs, staring at your beautiful, beautiful pussy. You lean up on your elbows to look at me; and I flick my tongue out, gently kissing your clit. You gasp and something awakens inside me. You taste so good, so sweet, and I bury my face into your folds, devouring you. I didn’t even know if I was doing it right, but from the sounds you were making; I think I was doing okay. Your fingers pull my hair and I feel my dick twitch as you moan loudly. “Right there, baby.” You moan out, and I moan in response; you sounded so sexy, so breathless. 

I pull away to look up at you. “Like this?” I lick a long wet stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking gently. You tremble beneath me, your chest heaving with gasps and moans. 

“Oh…my…Eddie.” You moan. I groan in response, tasting all of you, sucking you until your moans get louder and I’m pretty positive you’re about to come. Your head falls back in pleasure, and a loud, hot, moan escapes your lungs and you’re coming in my mouth. I stick my tongue around your hole, feeling you clench, tasting your juices and gripping your thighs until you can’t take it anymore. It’s so intoxicating I don’t want to stop. Your eyes are closed as you settle your breathing, I sit back on my heels, wiping my face and smile at you. You sit up, grabbing the back of my head and kiss me. You moan against my mouth, and a groan escapes me when I feel your hand cup my erection over my jeans. You pull away from me, quickly undoing the button on my jeans and pulling them down past my legs. I see your eyes widen when I spring to life, and you smile.

You look up at me, your hands gently rub my thighs, my ass and I shudder under your touch. I move to my back, highly aware of how exposed I felt with your eyes scanning my body. I immediately feel shy, and I honestly couldn’t tell you why. You sense how nervous I am, and you crawl up my body. Your hand tickles my chest and you kiss me gently. I hold your waist, gripping your skin and you pull back to look at me. I swallow hard as you lean down to kiss my neck, making soft pecks along my chest, moving down to my abdomen. A moan escapes me when I feel your hands gently grab my cock, rubbing your soft hands over the velvety ness of it. I gasp when I feel your lips kiss the tip; I could tell you were nervous too, but I swear as soon as you took my whole length into your mouth, you knew exactly what to do. A broken moan escapes me, and you quickly pull your head back.

“I’m sorry…did I…”

“No, no.” I say breathlessly, grabbing your wrist. “That was really good, keep going.” 

Your mouth is on me again, and I groan, feeling your tongue swirl around my shaft, move down towards my balls. I moan loudly, my head falls back against the bottom of the high hat, which causes a humorous sound and I end up laughing while moaning. You throat me deeper and I hold your hair. I want to know what you feel like inside, I want to feel that beautiful pussy clench around my cock. I pull your head up to look at you.

“I wanna feel you.” I whisper. 

You sit back, smiling that beautiful smile. You nod, biting your lower lip. I scoot up, taking your face in my hands and kiss you deeply. I turn you around so you’re on your back, gently grazing my fingertips over your skin. I bite my bottom lip, staring at your naked body. You were so beautiful. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks as I stare at you, and you smile sweetly.

“You nervous?” You ask me and I nod.

“A little.”

“Me too.” You say, reaching up to cup my face as I hover above you. I smile into your palm and a thought crosses my mind. 

“Oh.” I lean back, go into my wallet, pulling out a condom. I tear it open with my teeth, staring at the rubber like it was a bomb. 

“I think it goes…” you sit up a little, taking the condom and sliding it down my shaft. I shudder but I’m equally embarrassed. 

“Pretty pathetic that I don’t know how to put a condom on.” I laugh awkwardly, leaning down to hover over you again. 

“You’re not pathetic. If you’re pathetic; I’m pathetic. I’ve never had an orgasm until you.” 

My eyes widen at your confession. “No way. Even when you play with yourself?” 

You shake your head. “I guess I didn’t do it right.” You laugh and smile at me. “Looks like we have to teach each other things.” 

I smirk, gently leaning down to kiss your lips. I rub your cheek, caresses your hair. “If it hurts, you tell me, okay? And I’ll stop.” 

You nod, I could feel you shaking. I was shaking too, but I wasn’t sure if it was nerves, excitement or both. You open your legs a little wider for me, and I kiss you gently, my hand palming your entrance and I pull my hand away to line myself up with you. I slowly push myself in, and a grunt escapes me, you let out a soft gasp and I feel you clench. 

“Am I hurting you?” I ask, panic in my voice as I stop pushing in.  

“No, it just stings a little. Keep going.” You whisper, gripping my forearms. I push myself in further and I hear you coo; I look at your face and you’re biting your lip. You were so fucking tight, so tight that it was starting to hurt me, and I didn’t know what to do next. I feel you roll your hips into mine and I gently pull myself out a little and move back in. You moan, and a throaty growl escapes me as I quicken the movements in my hips. You felt so good, and I wanted to go faster but I didn’t want to hurt you. 

“Faster, baby.” You moan, like you read my mind. I stare into your eyes, and you kiss me deeply, letting me know that it was okay. I move my hips faster, the sensation of the friction, plus the sounds that were coming from you were turning me into a wild fucking animal. “Ohhh…” 

I could feel my orgasm building in my belly, and once I feel your hands grab my ass to push me deeper into you, it was all over. We were both moaning so loud, and I honestly didn’t remember which way up. You gasp loudly, and I feel you clench around me. “Oh baby…I think I’m gonna come again…”

“Fuck…I’m close…” my head falls back in pleasure, and I slow my rhythm down, my hips bucking as I come into the condom, and you’re fucking screaming my name, clenching all around me. Your nails claw at my back and I’m groaning into your neck as I ride out the rest of my orgasm, and you gasp out beautiful, beautiful sounds that was music to my ears. 

I swallow back the lump in my throat as I lay my head in the crook of your neck. Your hands are in my hair, holding me to you. I look at you and you smile at me, kissing me so softly, sweetly. And at that moment, all was right in the world. 

Gareth had driven my car to Vermont, I couldn’t stomach the drive. I think I puked three times before getting in the car because I’m still having a hard time processing what we were doing and why we were going to Vermont. I think I chain smoked a whole pack of cigarettes the way there. I was texting with my sponsor the whole way there too, he was a good guy, making me feel better about myself on how it was normal to be feeling the way I did. I didn’t want to use, but I didn’t want to feel anything. He also suggested I reach out to you after the services, and I shut that down. I didn’t want to think about you, I just wanted to focus on the fucked-up fact I was about to bury the one man I considered a father. We pull up to the funeral home, it looked like a beautiful cottage. A large window overlooked a frozen lake. I get out of the car on shaky legs; I could feel Gareth’s eyes on me. 

I turn to look at him. “I’m fine.” 

“Don’t look it.” He mumbles. 

“Neither do you.” I slam the car door and we both walk up the stone steps into the funeral home. We enter the place, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the aroma of floral arrangements I want to gag. We sign the guest book, and I have to pause in the double doorway when I see the shiney black opened casket. I don’t even see the people in the seats, or the people who have been in the music industry longer than I have. I just zero in on the box and Julie standing right next to it. She meets my eyes, and she’s already pushing her way through people to get to me. I’m falling into her, my forehead is resting against her small shoulder, I’m breathing in the smell of her shampoo and her Chanel perfume. She’s hugging me close, and I begin to weep. 

“Oh, my sweet boy…” She says gently in my ear.

“It doesn’t seem real, it’s not right…” I pull away to look at her, to glance at the casket. “It’s not okay.” The tears are hot on my cheeks, and I feel Gareth stiffen next to me as he tries to control his own tears. She kisses my cheek, taking my hand, leading me up to the casket. I stop when I see Nellie, she meets my eyes, and she’s immediately sobbing. I hug her to me, cupping the back of her head as she buries her face into my chest. She was a few years younger than me, and she always felt like a sister, and I immediately feel riddled with guilt that I spent so many years chasing a high when she would send me birthday cards from her kids, or birthday party invitations. Even when I wasn’t on tour, I would make up some excuse. I couldn’t do that anymore. No more excuses. 

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper to her, and there’s so many reasons behind that. Her fingers grip into my back and she nods against my chest. 

“Don’t disappear on me again, okay?” She pulls away to look at me. “The kids need their Uncle Eddie.” 

I swallow a sob, and nod, gently kissing the top of her head. I look over at the casket, and I slowly make my way over. He was dressed in his best blazer that he had custom made, a vintage Van Halen t shirt covers his chest underneath. His shaggy dirty blonde hair was styled neatly. I couldn’t look at his face. I just stared at his chest; my vision was blurring. I felt the similar ache in my belly when I thought of you, except you were still alive. Ted was dead.  I finally look at his face, and a sound escapes my lungs. I sound like a whimpering dog; I couldn’t control it, I just started to weep. I rest my head against the kneeling bench, feeling Julie’s arms wrap around me. I felt pathetic, crying like this, in front of all these people. Ted was the reason we got to where we were…Ted was also the reason that got me back to you. 

And I didn’t know how to keep going without him. 

I disassociated during the burial, I don’t remember who I spoke to, who I hugged. All I remember is coming back to my cabin with Gareth, neither one of us saying a word to each other. I had peeled off my suit jacket, kicked off my shoes and plopped on the chair in my kitchen. I lit up a cigarette, letting the smoke billow in my lungs. I stare up at my liquor cabinet, knowing that I had a half empty bottle of bourbon hidden in there. The chair skids against the floor as I get up, go into the cabinet, and pull the bottle down. I pull the cap off the bottle, staring at the brown liquid. My heart was racing, I could feel my ears pulsating as my thoughts were swimming in my brain.

You know where this can lead to. Ted’s voice echoes in my head. 

“Fuck off.” I whisper through my teeth. 

You’ve come so far. 

“FUCK OFF!” I scream, pitching the bottle against the wall next to my refrigerator and it shatters, the liquid spilling to the floor. I yell again, punching the wood of my cabinets until my knuckles bled. I slide to the floor; Gareth comes running in from the back bedroom.

“Jesus, Eddie…” He says quietly, his eyes scanning the broken glass, my bloody hand, and the tears streaming down my cheeks. 

“Did you know…the last time Ted was here, I was detoxing? Right on that couch.” I let out a chuckle, pointing out into the living room. “Unwillingly of course, or maybe willingly, I don’t fucking know. I was heading into the depths of madness at that point, but he had shown up. I was convinced you had sent these little demon creatures to come kill me or hurt him and somehow, he convinced me to get rid of my dope.” I laugh again, almost manically. “The last time that man was in my house, I was a complete fucking monster. I hated him, I hated him for making me go through the pain. I hated him because he cared about me so fucking much, he’d rather sit there and watch me cry and scream in pain. Why, man?” I look up at Gareth, my lips trembling. “Why did he care about me so much? After everything I had done. After who I became?”

“Eddie…” I could tell he’s lost for words. He slides down to the floor next to me, and I just stare at him. He pulls me by my shirt, pulling me into him. He cradles me like a baby, and I just sob into his chest. “You know why, dude. He loved you.”

I scoff, wiping the snot from my nose. “I was unlovable. And I fucking manipulated him so many times. I’m surprised he didn’t have a heart attack back then.”

“Eddie.” Gareth says sternly. “If you are blaming yourself for his death, you’re a bigger fucking idiot than I thought. Things like this just happen sometimes, man. Whether it’s natural, or unnatural. When I was so fucking at you when it got really bad, when I thought I was staring into the eyes of a person who murdered my brother…Ted would always tell me that he knew you were still in there. That you would come out of this, and look…you came out of it.”

“It’s not that simple, man.” I say through my teeth, my throat bobbing as I’m trying to stop from sobbing again. “Everyday I have to fight…I have to hold back the urge to go and use…and now…now I have all this love…all this love that has no place to go…he was a fucking dad to us, Gareth. And now he’s gone…he’s just…gone.” 

Gareth doesn’t say anything more, he just holds me tighter as I cry. 

Rabbit hole

Rabbit hole

Where did you go? 

Rabbit hole

Rabbit hole

Where did…

I haven’t showered in three days; Gareth left yesterday. 

I pace in my kitchen, already on my fourth cup of coffee, and it’s not even noon. 

My phone rings, I send it to voicemail, sending a reassuring text that I’m okay. 

I’m really not, but I don’t have a needle in my arm.

So, there’s that. 

It’s been a week; I finally showered. I dreamt of you last night. 

I grip the pen in my hand, flapping the composition notebook as I continue to pace in the living room. 

My therapist is here. 

I don’t say much. 

She looks afraid for me. 

Maybe, she should be.

She suggested anti-depressants. 

I said no, I numbed my feelings for too long, I had to pay the price and feel things without the help of a medicine. 

Dying seems better than this existence. 

Maybe I already died, and I’m just living in this vessel of a body that is rotten. 

Fuck, Eddie. That’s dark. 

I laugh to myself, continuing to pace. Looks like I don’t need the drugs to be an actual fucking madman. 

Mad hatter, too much tea

Mad hatter, look at me, look at me,

I’m a fucking disease. 

Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I see your smile, I hear your laugh, I feel your touch. 

What the fuck am I doing? 

Why am I standing here alone? 

I miss you. 

I miss him. 

No. No. No. 

Gareth is right. 

I can’t lose you. 

Not again. 

Not again. 

NOT AGAIN.

I take the keys to my truck, awkwardly pulling my boots on as I stumble out the door.

Looks like I’m going to Maine.

[evesaintyves]

I just love the way you write Tonks, she's so much bolshy and dirty and crass, she feels like a real auror and an actual badass that people wouldn't want to mees with! I liked Tonks in books but I admit I was a bit bored by her 'cutesy sweetheart' personality..

thank you so much, that's such a kind thing to say! ❤️ i'm gonna ramble about this a bit if you don't mind!

obviously i extrapolate a lot, but i think there are seeds of that bolshiness etc in canon. from her very first scene we see Tonks kind of talking shit about Harry's house (and her parents!) and giving her mentor, a pretty intimidating dude, guff in front of everyone. she stands up to Remus when he deadnames her (though i agree with the common fanon interpretation that they're flirting a bit in that exchange). she's introduced as a character who speaks her mind and doesn't take any shit*. all of that is on a mission and in front of a kid, so i imagine she's probably even a little more outspoken under other circumstances. it's also clear to me that she's got to be strong-willed, a little singleminded, incredibly talented, and probably a little arrogant to make it as an auror so young: she talks about how difficult it is to qualify and not many do. she's also canonically kind of reactionary and impulsive - i mean, that's how she dies.

some of my characterization of tonks is just personal - so much of her plotline is pretty sad, and her personality disappears entirely toward the end as she becomes a fulcrum for lupin's character arc. and her death, honestly, is kind of stupid. so i feel this urge to give her some justice and a little bit of a fuller personhood in the way i write her.

to me, tonks is (on top of being obviously interpretable as queer) clearly punk/alternative coded, withe the hair and the way she speaks to her elders and her sense of humor. i'm old and i was a tween/young teen in the mid/late nineties when tonks would have been around, and i remember how discovering riot grrl and queer punk bands of that era completely changed the way i thought about myself and the standards i was being held to and just the possibilities for what girls could do and how they could exist in the world and in their own bodies. being gross and crude, rejecting and subverting and playing with the power of the male gaze, talking openly about fucking and bleeding and being gay and being angry: it all seemed like a superpower to me.

tonks is clearly, from the start, in a state of experimentation with her own identity - the way she changes her hair from violet to pink in front of harry - and she's uniquely positioned as a metamorphmagus to create herself from scratch whenever she likes. it reminds me so much of being a kid and discovering that there were all of these new possibilities for who i could be, if i could be brave enough to try them. and we know that Tonks is brave 😉. so like, why not write a Tonks who is liberated, doesn't give a fuck, insists that the world make room for her? i think the contrast with people-pleaser overthinker self-hater lupin is really irresistible, too.

my vision of tonks is as a person i would have looked up to as a kid at that time, but who is still from her pov very much figuring her shit out and trying to construct a self that gives her peace and fulfillment. she dies in that state of flux - having also just undergone the enormous identity-changes of marriage and motherhood. she's fascinating! i insist on it!

so thank you again, such a sweet ask!

* i bet she put up with a ton of bullshit trying to be in a relationship with lupin tho smh girl u can do better!!! we all been there though

[compressedrage]

*barges in* Your Hollow Head Siblings hc's, hand 'em over!!!! 🔫

(But fr, gotta love your thoughs, they're neat and scratch my brain juuuust right!!!)

YOU HAVE OPENED THE FLOOD GATES MY ANONYMOUS FRIEND

Keep in mind I am very tired rn so this will likely be very unpolished okay here we go–

The order of age goes Victim Chosen Dark Orange, we all know this, but I think for a long time Dark thought he and Chosen were a lot closer in age than they actually were. Chosen had to warm up to telling Dark about all the horrible things he went through, and that included the fact that he was alone for four years. (it's four years right? it might be five. I can't be bothered to look it up rn, its fine)

In between the Showdown and Wanted Orange is starting to think of Chosen as an older brother. He connected the dots to figure out that Chosen was also made by Alan and he saved them! He's so cool! This idea was only a little bit shattered when this older brother figure barged into the PC and kidnapped him and promptly got them both captured. But honestly what are older siblings for.

In canon Chosen does not let himself feel emotions enough for him to see Orange as a little brother, but the connection is there. He'll come around :)

SPEAKING OF CONNECTIONS– I recently had this idea that the Hollowheads had some sort of empathy-telepathy with each other. For example, one normal day out in the Outernet Chosen feels the exact moment Orange was created. He doesn't know what that feeling meant, and he never felt it again. Orange felt drawn to this new stick figure who saved their lives, and immediately follows him through the portal. Chosen felt something snap in his chest the moment Dark died. Orange and Victim lock eyes for a moment in the Box and feel something click. None of them talk about it, but it's there.

(that last one might qualify as an AU, who knows maybe I'll do something with it)

This one is more of a wish than a headcanon– Chosen takes Orange under his wing at some point, teaching him how to use his powers as best he can. However, since Orange's powers are rather different from Chosen's, it just results in a chaotic sparring session and setting a field on fire. The CG are not amused by the amount of bruises Orange gets, but Orange is having an absolute blast.

Orange is Chosen's "Second Coming"– surely that comes with consequences. I saw a hc where they shared portions of code and I liked that; something like Orange and Chosen have similar tastes in foods. Their eyes shine the same way when they smile. Sometimes they accidentally speak in unison because they each had the exact same thought. When stuff gets serious, they both narrow their eyes and make an expression that promises pain on their enemies.

Dark would be the best big brother and let me tell you why. Orange is often left with the Braincell of the CG. Have you seen how stressed this boy gets. He gets premonitions of his friends getting hurt. Dark allows him to mess around a bit more, in a "We might get in trouble, isn't that fun!!" kind of way. Orange has always had a chaotic streak, it just takes certain circumstances for him to tap into it. They would be able to get Red back for his pranking.

Orange would teach Chosen and Dark all about modern video games. They know video games, sure, they destroyed Angry Birds. But I think playing Minecraft would solve both of their problems. At least a lot of them.

I don't have many headcanons for Victim, I just haven't seen enough of him to get a solid enough foundation to make headcanons, but as an oldest child I can relate to him on a spiritual level. He may be gray now but with those three as younger siblings he's gonna get a whole lot grayer.

Gosh I love them so much, a house with all four Hollowheads would be the most chaotic house ever. Victim– the eldest with an actual job, no nonsense, the less-than-respected Holder of the Braincell. Since he is out of the house a lot because of Job, the responsibility falls to Chosen– older middle child, delinquent, failure of a cook and the only one Dark will listen to. Speaking of Dark– younger middle child, Chaos Incarnate, fellow delinquent and Escape Artist Extraordinaire, he is a terrible influence on the youngest– Orange. Orange is the black sheep of the family in that he is actually rather emotionally stable. He's in school, has friends, hobbies– his brothers just a bit jealous but supportive anyway. He also helps Dark prank the others; he's got great aim with water balloon catapults.

I cannot impress upon you enough how much they love each other. Their lives have been filled with isolation, suffering, rejection– but now they've found family in likewise people. None of them are alone anymore. Sure, Orange wasn't really alone to begin with, but surely he noticed how different he was from RYGB. He's not replacing them, not for a million dollars, but it is nice to have brothers who are similar to you.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Since you're THE authority on Silco lore, I thought I'd ask - what car do you think Silco would drive?

Hehehe - I'm very flattered you'd turn to my blog for Silco lore<3

I've mentioned this before, but I think it'd be a Porsche.

We love to mock Silco for his dandified vampire-coded villain schtick, but the fact of the matter is, Silco is one of the more subdued Zaunites in terms of style. How do we know this? Because we have Finn serving as a direct foil: flashy, studded with bling, all swagger with little to show for it.

Silco is the antithesis of that. The only bit of blatant bling is his left eye. But the rest of his outfit - the suit with bespoke lines but giveaway asymmetrical tweaks, the fancy vest with its mismatched buttons, the ironed trousers with the hand-stitched alterations - suggest someone projecting wealth but also a) on a drop-dead crazy budget; b) stingy and prone to penny-pinching; and c) conservative in an environment where flash and trash reign supreme.

A Porsche would fit these three categories. It's a luxury vehicle, no doubt about that. But cars depreciate at a much higher rate than say, property. If Silco invests in a vehicle rather than buying a chain of condos at the Promenade, he'll want something that gives him a bang for his buck.

Porsches are built with quality and durability in mind. They're also one of the least ostentatious sports car on the market, but with a respectable cult following among discerning drivers. They have good resale value, too, which means if Silco decides to ditch it for a different model, he'll be able to get his money's worth back.

In a way, the Porsche is the car equivalent of Silco: a luxury product that looks impressive, but is actually very sensible and restrained when you scratch the surface. Speaking of - I'll bet you the car has dents and scratches on its chassis. Not the kind you get from a fender-bender, but the telltale signs of having been around the block.

No way does this man - father of Jinx - keep a pristine ride.

As to the model: it would have to be a classic, something that screams vintage. A 911 is a classic, but a 911 is too mainstream for him. Silco's a man who loves to be in the know, and stay ahead of the pack. He wouldn't drive a car that's common or overused.

imo he'd drive a 918 Spyder.

It's one of the rarer models and notoriously hard to maintain, which is why he's probably the only person in Zaun with a mechanic who knows how to fix it. It's likely also jerry-rigged with the usual assortment of Zaunite customizations, like a gas mask-fitted air conditioner and a bulletproof windshield.

But for anyone who's not familiar with Porsche history, the 918 would pass off as an ordinary sports car, and Silco could play up the whole 'CPA or tax lawyer in the throes of a midlife crisis' thing to throw Piltover off his scent.

He'll even get it in deep red, for maximum irony.