#So stupid i forgot to eat too

[banditblvd]

I saw this post last night and was hit by more inspiration than I’ve ever had in my life, and I was gonna say I locked in but it took me 15 hours so I don’t think I locked in well enough

So here’s my artist’s rendition of HoTGuY Flies Again :-)

And a close up crechur bdubs for the road because I’m in love with him

[carcarrot]

OH MY GOD A YEAR AGO TODAY .

[heartshattering]

5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃

[medicinemane]

Honestly a lot of the time, it's not even about people having to agree with me, it's about needing to know that they actually heard and listened to what I had to say even if it didn't persuade them

Just... some basic indication that there's enough respect to give a shit about what I said, and also to make sure that they disagree because they actually disagree and not cause they just didn't bother listening

It's all I really ask

[alex-just-vibing]

grah my head feels like it might explode

[cherry-shipping]

aaaooughhh. cook for me fictional other. fictional other. cook for me

[keeps-ache]

heyoo.. :3 do you still pick flowers to give your mother ?

[ukulele-mixtape]

Maple Scraps: The Siren's Call Chapter 9

context: tune (oc) has just arrived at restoration hq and is having A Time getting adjusted to being front and center in what she considers to be the heart of enemy territory. and it doesn't help that they're all nice and willing to deal with her shit attitude even despite her protests.

and the one who confronts her on that eventually is silver.

i.e. the trust building exercise chapter aka my favorite chapter that i worked on before i abandoned this fic

cw! for food, starvation, and slight disordered eating.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little late into the evening, and a few weeks since the trio arrived at Emeraldville. After countless introductions and friendly faces, all of whom questioned the reasoning behind their favorite blue blur’s…facial situation (prompting multiple unique reactions at her expense), Tune found herself in the midst of Restoration HQ the first day of her arrival. It was an underground base of operations in Emeraldville for something they called the Resistance: a ragtag freedom fighting organization formed with the goal of fighting in the war against Dr. Robotnik (whom she now was forced to learn was, indeed, actually named Dr. Eggman, adopting the nickname to spite those who hated him.). 

She learned that after the “Zombot'' apocalypse spread across the globe, the original Restoration HQ was decidedly moved underground in favor of maintaining safety, security and allowing for people in need of a place to stay to rest their weary heads, helping out where they could as a collective volunteer effort. As much as something like this would seem like it’d be right up her alley, Tune felt suffocated by the talents surrounding her. She watched as soldiers trained and rattled off plans for supply distribution and mercenary work. Mechanical noise bounced against every wall, echoing inside the halls she silently passed through. People of all demographics ran around with paperwork in their hands, shopping bags full of clothes and food in their cheeks as rewards for a hard day's work. Community laced every facility this place had to offer, and yet Tune felt completely overwhelmed, struggling to find anywhere to breathe. 

Tune understood she was right in the heart of the most dangerous place in the world for someone like her, and if she wasn't careful, she would certainly reveal herself as a threat they would have no problem managing.

So, for the next few weeks since the trio’s arrival, Tune made it her business to stay clear of anything to do with the Restoration. It wasn’t her problem to deal with, and it certainly wasn’t something she was confident she could even contribute to effectively, if she even wanted to. She’d force herself out the exit, skates retracted and ready to roll away into the horizon, considering just taking the chance and hopping on the next train back to Station Square so she could transfer and finally get her Ramtrax ticket to New Mobotropolis right this time. But even if she managed to scramble enough cash, she had the knowledge that these people finally knew her. She wasn’t anonymous anymore. She had stepped into the limelight she never wanted, a consequence of her reckless actions.

And each time she felt herself trying to leave without a word, without anyone knowing she was gone, she would hear the distant yells of some of its founding members beckoning her to return. Notably Amy Rose, a girl Tune deemed to be way too nosy for her own good, despite her earnest attempt to ease Tune’s worry. 

‘You’re always guaranteed to be safe with us’, Tune recalled the conversation she had with Amy on that first week, Amy’s honesty seeping through all corners of her tone, cupping Tune’s clawed hands. ‘This is a place where people can come and go wherever and whenever they want as volunteers, but it’s packed to the brim with the best security around. No one is going to try and hurt you.’

‘Why would you assume I'm worried about something like that?’ Tune asked brashly.

‘It’s all on your face, Tune: you're incredibly on edge.’ Amy would reply. ‘You’re a musician right? You must be worried about those attacks going on all over the news. You look like you’re itching to break out of your own skin, like everyone in the world is out to get you just by looking in your general direction.’

‘Can’t say I’m particularly worried about getting caught in that drama in the music world. I don’t perform gigs anymore; getting panic attacks on stage ain’t really my style.’ Tune tried to cover, disinterested eyes turning to the side. ‘And I can handle someone trying to come at me just as much as I can handle a whole music setlist on my own.’

Amy would let go of Tunes hands, clapping her own together like the greatest idea known to man had just popped inside her head, eyes twinkling with excitement as she carried her thoughts out.

‘So why don't you take one of the dormitories for yourself?’ she’d giddily ask. ‘We can set you up with some sound equipment and you can work on your stuff there! I’m sure we have some instruments laying around in the supply room.’

‘Why would you wanna do something like that?’ Tune pondered. ‘I don’t got any money on me to pay for that kinda hospitality.’

‘It won’t be a paid stay, you’re welcome to be there as long as you want. And like I said, this place is for volunteer work. We’re not going to turn you down because you’re not quite acquainted with us just yet. That defeats the whole purpose of what we’re trying to accomplish here.’

In her mind, Tune could see exactly how Amy brightened up as she felt her eyes lock on to the pink hedgehog's. It was frustrating…she hated the idea of disappointing someone like this so soon. But she couldn’t just stay here. Not when there was work to be done elsewhere. Not when there was a chance Alto could be closing in. Not while he was still out there claiming more people into his ranks. And most importantly, not if she wasn’t able to do something in return to warrant the gesture.

‘…And if I say I don’t want it?’ Tune would ask.

‘Then it’s ultimately your choice.’ Amy responded quickly, as if she already had experience with conversations like this before. ‘No one will force you, but I do urge you to consider it, even if only for a day or two.’

Tune paused, contemplating. With an uneasy tone, she muttered out a simple: ‘...I’ll think about it.’

And Amy’s smile became infectiously wide. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’

And that’s what led her here. The final day of her third week, Tune, who once basked in the sensory input from all corners of the world was now begging for silence. The hustle and bustle of the underground city became too much for her to handle, and she was practically on the verge of dissociating from her body entirely. She needed a place to breathe, but refused to ask anyone around where she should go, lest they spark up conversation needlessly. So with a mindful eye, she studied the way people would enter and exit the facility for what felt like hours. A button here, two hidden locks there. Any time she’d catch someone’s eye, she’d bolt out in a panic, comically pretending like she was doing something important when anyone would try and circle around her.

And when she tried to walk away after a while of surveillance, she turned around the corner and got a face full of soft white fur.

“Whoops, woah there!” Silver exclaimed with a slight chuckle, a basket of all types of snacks, from pastries and sandwiches to flavored tea bags in his hands. It was weaved together by beautifully wooden straw and ribbon, wrapped cleanly in plastic wrap. Realizing who he’d accidentally bumped into, Silver beamed. “Oh Tune, just the girl I needed to see today! We were wondering when you were going to show back up again. Amy wanted to give you this personally, but she had a few errands to run.”

Before she could even blink, Silver thrusted the basket into Tune’s arms, allowing her to examine the contents up close. It was so…girly. She could see a tiny note on the edge of the basket; frilly, neatly placed handwriting etched on the parchment: “I added some extra cheese danishes for good measure! Welcome aboard <3”  How did Amy know that she liked cheese danishes? She never told anyone. Was she like, psychic or something?

“I’m not one for handouts,” Tune stated, a little too coldly, trying to place the basket back in Silver’s hands. “Don’t you think you should give this to someone who’d actually deserve it, Floats?”

Silver shook his head. “It was made specifically for you, so you gotta take it. Amy’s orders.”

“Since when am I taking orders from her all of a sudden?”

“Since now.” Silver’s voice lowered firmly, slight annoyance laced in his tone. “So come on, eat up! There’s some good stuff in there.” He placed his hands on his waist playfully. He watched her eye the basket's contents curiously. She was hesitating to accept it. But that reluctance didn’t match her eyes, uncovered by her glasses, they darted around like they were desperate to rip open the plastic and dig in themselves. And so to goad her into committing, he pressed on with a wiggle of his brow. “If you don’t I will.”

“Knock yourself out, then.” Tune immediately responded plainly, trying once more to shove the basket back in his face.

“What, you don’t want it? Not even these here…mochi doughnuts?”

“The what?” She tried to play it cool, but without her glasses, Tune was completely exposed as she quickly retracted her hands to scan the basket more thoroughly, trying to find the doughnuts he promised. And then, embarrassingly so, setting up the next punchline of her life, her stomach grumbled in anticipation. 

Got her.

“Now what could that be, I wonder?” Silver slyly pondered with an innocent tone, placing a finger to his chin, much to Tune’s dismay. “Come on, let’s eat some together! I’m due for a break, anyway.”

“Ugh, do I have to?” she whined, her voice small.

“Yep, captain's orders.” Silver gestured to himself.

“Since when am I taking orders from you all of a sudden?”

Silver flicked a small psychic wave at Tune’s back, pushing her to get moving. She stumbled a bit, but eventually took the hint and started skating along the pavement. A light blue aura surrounded Silver as he floated in the air and scrolled past her with a smile. He made a big waving arm gesture, beckoning her to follow him as he glided his way to the Victory Garden entrance, Tune skating faster to make sure she didn’t lose him.

“Since now.”

–

The two sat quietly on the roof of Silver’s greenhouse. It took a bit of nudging for her to even try and sit next to him, but Tune eventually relented, pressing the button to make her skates detract again and hugging her knees with her arms. She had a bored look on her face as she gazed out into the distance, watching the sun set below the horizon. It was like she didn’t want to be here at all. Which, to be fair, she didn’t. At least not with anyone. Even still, Silver tried to take her cold demeanor in stride, watching as she set the basket down with her dominant hand, careful to ensure it wouldn’t roll over. He took the initiative to open the basket, confident she wouldn’t have bothered if he hadn’t. He took out a few of the items; a cheese danish and ube mochi doughnut wrapped in clean plastic film and an apple fritter for himself, setting the danish and doughnut by her side. Tune side eyed the pastries, not making a move. Her stomach grumbled once more.

“You know, you can eat it.” Silver jested, already starting to dig into his fritter. “You seem really hungry. When’s the last time you ate?”

“...I dunno. I had some leftovers from the train ride that I've been trying to salvage all week, but I think I finished them off yesterday morning.” she mumbled, placing a cheek to her knee, away from Silver's obviously worried expression.

“So…you haven’t eaten since yesterday?”

“Pretty much.”

“But why not just get something from the cafeterias or something? You can eat train food but you can’t eat when people offer you stuff?”

“I can eat it because I paid for it to be included when I bought my ticket. The cafeteria acts like a soup kitchen for the needy. I don’t need anything.”

“So you’re just comfortable with eating scraps, is that it?”

“That a problem?” Tune sneered in his direction.

“Well of course it is!” Silver wanted to strangle her. “No wonder you’re so grouchy. You gotta eat.” He pushed the pastries a little further towards her, trying to get her attention. “Try the danish, Amy’s pastries are really good.”

“I thought I told you I don’t take handouts.”

“It’s a gift.” Silver groaned exasperatedly.

“One I'm not really sure you realize I don’t deserve.”

There was a long, awkward pause after that. It’d been hard getting Tune to really say much of anything when she arrived that first week, this being the first real conversation anyone other than Amy had with her. She relented on Amy’s request for her to stay in one of the dorms, but never came out unless she absolutely had to, usually during the evenings when most people were heading back home anyway. Her eyes were always glazed over, like she hadn’t slept in days.

When she would be asked to do something around Restoration HQ, like cleaning, delivering paperwork or even organizing boxes, she’d do it without question, but retreat once no one had anything left to demand of her. She would never be willing to hang out, but would always be staring off into the distance on her breaks at people, like if she wanted to mingle but didn’t know how, or rather refused to allow herself to.

Silver had offhandedly vented out his concerns to Sonic at one point during a date to the park, the two hedgehogs finally having a brief moment alone after a long time apart.

‘Do you think she hates us?’ he’d ask. ‘I don’t think we’re doing anything wrong here…’

Sonic would pull Silver in close from the side, shaking his head.

‘I don’t think so,’ Sonic’s nimble hands would speak for him. ‘Since I’ve known her, she’s not the type to want to get too close. She doesn’t want to let people in just yet.’

‘But she doesn’t act the way someone like Shadow or even Knuckles would do. Those two are just introverted, but Tune? She just looks so…not happy. Amy had given her all those instruments for her dorm and it’s really rare when we hear even a peep. But music’s the one thing she seems to enjoy the most, no?’ Silver’s worry danced around his tongue, unable to stop himself. ‘Do you think that there’s something going on? Maybe we can help her.’

‘It’s ultimately up to her to decide if she even wants that help, babe. We can’t just force it on her.’

‘But if she continues like this…’

Sonic gave a fond look towards Silver as he listened, noticing how he’d fidget around his benched seat in the park. Sonic took another bite of the food platter they’d been sharing, Silver swirling his soda cup around lost in thought.

“I’ve seen that look countless times in my life…’ Silver admitted somberly, sliding his pointer finger up and down against the sides of his cup. ‘In my time period, it wasn’t uncommon. You bury yourself into your work, you hide away in your bed, you barely function at all as a person when you think there’s no point to anything. I just worry she’s going down that same route.’

‘Maybe she just needs that gentle push then?’ Sonic would suggest. ‘Maybe instead of going for a direct approach, we just finagle our way to the finish line.’

‘What do you mean?’ Silver’s ears perked up in anticipation, tilting his head to the side.

‘Someone like Tune isn’t gonna listen to us when we’re hovering all over her.’ Sonic continued. ‘And unless she’s forced out, she’d rather spend the whole day locked away. So why not do something to casually ‘put her to work’ so to speak.’

‘‘Put her to work?’ She already works plenty at HQ.”

‘Nah, nothing like that. I mean, give her something to do. Something to distract herself. Something tangible, like maybe food, or trying to offhandedly persuade her into going on a walk. Something that seems innocuous so she doesn’t suspect anything weird.’

‘Do you really think that would work?’

“Well it’s not a guarantee, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

After that, Silver had caught her a few times when working at the supply depot, trying to stir up some type of conversation, anything at all to get her to familiarize herself, but she always would give a simple “Sorry I'm a little busy. Maybe later.”, and then would proceed to cut her break early in favor of more independent work, but that “maybe” never came.  To say the gang was worried about her was an understatement. But how could they approach someone who made it their whole business to not be perceived in any capacity whatsoever? They had nothing to go off but her foul mouth, her interest in music, and her inability to accept any form of help from anyone who tried. She gave them absolutely nothing. Truly, she was a handful without even having to try. 

But, she still did take up the offer to take that dorm. So, supposedly there was one thing, at least. If she didn’t want to be here, she had every opportunity to leave. But she didn’t.

Silver stared at his garden below. It had been a nice growing season: the spring’s rain helped bring many flowers to the forefront, allowing them to bathe in the sunshine they’d been working so hard to meet. The potatoes and carrots he had planted were sprouting beautifully, lush green leaves spread out across the crater in lined patterns. Silver wished that he could bring some over to Tune, maybe to have something to tide her over, but she’d already peered at the garden like if she knew he would ask. So he didn’t bother.

He didn’t want to give up on her though. He was sure he could break through, if only for just a little bit. It was like a puzzle that needed solving, and Silver wanted to be the one to do it. So, he tried again. He tried to break the ice frosting over this summer’s evening roof.

“Can I ask you something?” he began, glancing up at Tune. She barely acknowledged him.

“You're gonna do it anyway.” she said plainly.

“...Why do you keep saying that? The whole ‘I don’t deserve this’ thing?”

“Because I don’t.” she quickly uttered. “I don’t deserve y'all's kindness.”

“But who told you that?”

“I don’t need to be told, Floats. And I don’t have to be a brainiac like Lil’ Fox to know how I’m being right now. How I've been all week. It’s intentional. I need y’all to stop.” her tone was getting a bit more stern.

“Stop?” Silver shifted in his seat. “Stop what, exactly?”

Tune finally turned to face Silver again, raising her body to sit up, her expression angry, flustered. His worried expression only served to tick her off more.

“T-this! This crap,” she hotly retorted, wildly flailing her arms around as if to emphasize her point. “All these kind gestures and trying to check in on me. I see right through you; Who freakin’ wouldn’t? You guys are so transparent it’s almost insulting. But yo, not for nothing, why y’all trying so hard to make believe you want this? I give y’all nothing yet every time I try to pull away, you keep coming back and I don’t know why!”

Her face was hot, but her expression was that of total fear, like a cornered, feral animal.

“Because we want you to feel okay, we want you to feel welcome.” Silver tried to argue. “We care about you, Tune. And like it or not, we’re worried.”

“But why?! What have I done that warrants you trying to help? Why are you people trying everything in the universe to convince me I’m worthy of something I’m not? You don’t know anything about me.”

“But you won’t even let us get to know each other. Do you really think it’s fair to say we shouldn’t worry about you?”

“Y’all need to learn to put that energy towards people who need it more. People who deserve it.” Her voice was tiny as she hugged at her knees once more.

She wasn’t listening. No matter what, she was completely, utterly incapable of forming any other opinion of herself that wasn’t perceivably negative. It put Silver in a very hard position, the desire of wanting to help and not knowing how. She was being completely unreasonable with herself. It was like trying to convince herself of anything, pleading for her to love herself, or at the very least respect herself, would be null and void to even try for.

And then a light bulb stuck.

If Silver could convince her to respect herself just yet, she’d learn to respect others through her own actions of self care.

“So, do you only ever respond to people demanding things from you?” Silver asked, almost condescendingly. “Is that what you want? Is that what'll make you think you deserve something from us?”

Tune didn’t entertain him. But Silver continued anyway.

“If so, I want you to eat that danish,” he said.  “And I won’t let you leave here until you do. I'll stay up the whole night if I have to. And even after that.”

Tune stood silent, but her eyes curiously locked on with Silver’s determined glare. He was going to get through to her if it killed him.

“...You'll be here a while then.” She tried to fight. Her stomach growled once more, betraying her.

“I’ve got all the time in the world. I live here now.” he said simply.

“...Pass.”

“Then how’s this?” he challenged, picking up the danish and practically shoving it in her hands. “I won’t eat a single morsel if you don’t.”

“W-what?!” she exclaimed, eyes widened.

“You heard me. I don’t eat until I see you do it. Any time you take a bite, I’ll do it too. The second you stop, I stop.”

“That’s insane, I’m not letting you do that.”

“Well if you don’t like it, start eating.”

“You're gonna starve yourself like that, dude! Don't be an idiot. You gotta feed yourself if you’re hungry. How else do you expect to–” she cut herself off. 

Silver smirked, the silence all he needed to hear. He watched as she processed everything, from the way he looked at her to the basket separating the two. She let go of her knees and gazed at the garden below. And after a long, agonizingly long, silent beat, Silver watched as she took the mochi doughnut from the roof, and unwrapped it, looking at Silver one last time as she defiantly nibbled at it with the fronts of her teeth, choosing the wrong pastry to start with. He mirrored her actions, nibbling at the apple fritter still in his hands, and when she took notice, a scowl formed on her face, a blush forming around the edges of her cheeks. Aggressively, she forced the doughnut into her mouth without restraint, chewing grossly and never breaking that eye contact. Silver followed suit, shoving his fritter in his mouth alongside her. If people were around to see it, they’d look crazy. 

He watched as she chewed thoroughly, like if she was putting all the effort she could muster in this one action. He didn’t relent, and only when he saw her swallow, even going so far as to open her mouth and stick out her tongue to show she wasn’t lying, seeing all the purple and golden brown bits of the doughnut stuck to her shark like teeth, did he do the same, mouth agape and all.

“Happy?” Tune grumbled, shoving the wrapping into her pocket.

“Very. But we’re not quite done here. I said the danish.” He pointed to the pastry in emphasis.

“I ate something. Isn’t that enough?” 

“Nope. I said you needed to eat the danish. So if you want to do something useful, eat it.” Silver lifted his leg so he could rest his arm atop, rummaging for another snack in the basket. He settled on a fruit sandwich. “Remember, I don’t eat until you do.”

“Oh my–for the love of everything–I’m gone. Eat by yourself.” Tune growled, getting up from her place on the roof and made the attempt to jump down, but Silver was faster, quickly snatching her body with his power with a firm grip. Her eyes were threatening to bulge out of her sockets, and she wished so hard that night she could use her sonar wave to absolutely wreck his shit and blast him off the roof.

She was gently, but firmly, placed back on the roof of the greenhouse, her blazing yellow eyes staring daggers at Silver’s calm frame, only being released by her top half, her waist down still firmly in Silver’s very casual grasp. It was like holding her down like this meant absolutely nothing to him. She was desperately still trying to fight this, grunting as she was trying to fight against his iron grip and stand. But she couldn’t no matter how hard she tried.

“Nope, that’s not happening.” Silver said matter-of-factly.

“You better let me go!” Tune screamed.

“Eat the danish and I'll consider it.”

“I ain’t wasting more food!”

“It’s not a waste. You need to eat.” Silver didn't let up no matter how hard she fought.

“Silver, let me go. Now. I ain’t playin’ around no more.” Tune’s tone was dark, threatening, demanding, evident by her dropping Silver’s real name.

“Eat the danish.”

“Give it to someone else!!”

“Nope. They're for you.”

He was playing her game and going for that high score.

Another beat. Silver could swear he saw steam coming out from her ears. She blew air into her cheeks, her fur completely tensed up, eyes twitching, wrinkles all over that ugly expression. If he wasn’t so committed to this, he’d laugh so hard right now at her face alone, knowing she was imagining every conceivable way she could gut out his insides with her eyeballs. But he knew better, and he was desperate to help her. And while he hated being so relentless and admittedly uncharacteristically harsh, she needed to know she was deserving of that help, even if this was the only way to get it through that thick head of hers.

And then, once more, after an agonizingly long wait,  she snatched the cheese danish carelessly and released it from the wrapping, looking away from Silver and towards the now completely starry sky. Silver followed suit with that exact same energy, opening the fruit sandwich and at the same as Tune, ripping a piece of the breaded good with his teeth. Tune ate, and she ate, and she ate some more. It started off quick, eating for the sake of getting Silver off her back. But the more she chewed, the more she began to really just…reflect.

For the first time since she left home, she allowed herself to savor every morsel instead of just using it for temporary fuel for a cause. She acknowledged the lightly sweetened pastry cream, the flaky crust surrounding it, the tender love and care that went into every painstakingly long step to crafting such a delicious snack. And by the time she finished, she was crying, this time for real. This time for a reason.

Silver watched as Tune carefully snuck her hand into the basket to grab another item from the menu of goodies Amy had provided, taking out around three and unwrapping them all. She ate quietly, glancing at Silver as if to demand he’d do the same. Content, he released her from his psychic grip. She didn’t fight. There was a long, comfortable silence in the air, the two just snacking away atop the greenhouse, taking in the gorgeous night sky.

“Silver?” Tune suddenly uttered, mouth full of snacks.

“Yeah?” Silver answered to her unknowing plea, the refreshingly calmer use of his name not gone unnoticed.

“...Thanks.”

Silver nodded and placed a hand into the basket, grabbing a bag of barbecue flavored potato chips. He opened it up, allowing the aroma to float into the atmosphere. And before he got the chance to place his hand inside the snack bag, he saw Tune’s hand closest to him reaching, clenching her clawed fingers like a child, demanding he hand some over to her. Silver smiled warmly, soft chuckle escaping his lips. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of chips from the bag, placing them in her hand and watched her eat quietly, sniffling all the way. 

"That's what I'm here for." He began. "But you know, I don't want to keep doing this. I want you to take better care of yourself, if not for me, then for you. If you'd like, we can start small and eat lunches together during our breaks. Or I can teach you ways around the Victory Garden and you can harvest stuff for your meals. That way you don't feel like you're taking away from us or freeloading."

Tune's voice was hoarse, but genuine. "You're so weird. Caring about someone you know nothing about."

"I could say the same for you, Tune." Silver simply stated, his tone warm. "After all, you didn't want me to go hungry either. Sounds to me like you care without you having to say anything. That's why we gotta learn more about each other, right?"

Tune's mouth curled ever so slightly upward as she chewed the last remaining bits of chips left in her hand. Turning her gaze directly to Silver's, she muttered a small, "Whatever, dude." But the rude reply obviously didn't match her now calmed, slightly amused tone.

He’d eventually want to get a full meal inside of her soon, but for now, this was okay. Because Silver knew for certain.

He got her.

as a noted fun fact: this comic i drew a while back took heavy inspiration from this chapter. it's tune after her arc is completed.

[shatterthefragments]

I don’t have ice so it’s not cold yet but strawberry horchata :) it’s pretty good even without it being cold yet so I’m excited to have some tomorrow :)

(I am being Ambitious and hoping to do French toast tomorrow for breakfast (I’ve mixed my egg mixture I just need to toss the bread in it and cook it) bc I cut up strawberries to top it)

(Lunch is a salami sandwich with a slice of havarti and strawberries oh and a couple cherries. Maybe a banana if I want it to be ripe for tomorrow)

[lastoneout]

Like I know we all love making ADHD seem cool but like, don't forget it's actually a disability? My ADHD is bad enough I've nearly been evicted for forgetting to mail the rent check to the property manager, I've forgotten to pay the utility bills and had my water or power get turned off or had to pay fines bcs I missed a credit card payment. Once I was supposed to cat sit for a friend and I lost the house key she gave me but didn't realize until she was already out of town, and she had to call the apartment office to get someone to give me the spare so her cats would have food for the week. When I'm unmedicated I can't even get myself to shower half the time, forget eating or cleaning. Before I started living with my fiance I'd just like, not eat for days because I didn't have anyone to remind me to eat or go buy me food. I've forgotten to turn the stove off so many times and ruined kettles and tbh been DAMN fucking lucky the house didn't burn down. I've done stupid, impulsive shit that's nearly gotten me KILLED. I can't remember to close the shower curtain reliably even through my fiance points out every single time I forget, and he's almost out of soap rn bcs for the last MONTH neither of us have been able to remember to order more once we get out of the shower.

I've had such bad memory my entire life that to this day someone suggesting I forgot something because I simply didn't care enough is a legitimate trigger that, in the worst cases, makes me have a breakdown.

I get that for some of you this is just something that makes studying hard or you forget to take a pee break when you're playing Minecraft or whatever, that's still a valid struggle and you do deserve help and understanding, but like, ADHD is a disability. It's disabling. It's not impossible to improve and learn coping skills, meds help a lot, there are great accommodations out there(LIKE CLEANING SERVICES), but not every case of ADHD is the same, and a lot of them are pretty ugly ngl, and just because you managed to do something doesn't mean someone else is gonna be able to manage it too, or that they're being lazy for struggling. And that obviously doesn't mean ADHD people have a free pass to never work on themselves and make everyone cater to their every need or whatever, but we do deserve some understanding when we explain that our disability is actually disabling in ways that aren't palatable to you. So like, idk, maybe don't immediately recoil in horror when you find out that someone with ADHD can't keep their house clean. And for fucks sake don't ridicule them for it.

[classyrbf]

YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop

INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

GOJO

ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.

NANAMI

nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.

GETO

geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”

CHOSO

I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.

[faethfigueroth]

we love spending the entire day trying to prepare for something just for everything in the day to go wrong that you end up not doing the one thing you spent all your energy on today preparing for

[skyeateyourdonuts]

heeeeeeeeeheeeeee

[rafesslxt]

slytherin boys hc realizing they were to rough after an argument and comforting you?😭🙏

thank u for requesting, have fun reading <3

✧.*𝑺𝑳𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 | 𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

characters: mattheo riddle, tom riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, draco malfoy

warnings: fighting, arguing, fluff, mention of make up sex, so a bit smut

Mattheo Riddle:

let‘s be honest, he would definetly take a moment to realize he actually hurt your feelings

his pride and stubbornness would be in the way at first

but when he sees the first tears rolling down your cheeks he slowly walks towards you giving your forehead a kiss while hugging you tightly and swiping your tears away with his thumb

"I am so sorry princess, I swear you‘re right. I didn‘t mean it like that, you know that, right? I love you so much I would never want to hurt you on purpose. Can you please talk to me again, baby?"

he would pull you onto his lap and rock you slighty while whispering sweet things into your ear telling you how sorry he is and that it won‘t happen again

Mattheo would just cuddle you for the rest of the night and maybe have make up sex with you If you‘re not too mad at him

"I‘m gonna show you how sorry I am princess." he would be a MUNCH and eat you out, never stopping no matter how sensetive you got.

"Want me to stop? Come on baby, one more just one more I promise." his tounge would flick relentlessly over your clit over and over again, his green ties around your wrists making it hard to protest.

Tom Riddle:

bro would try to manipulate you at first and tell you you‘re overreacting and too sensetive but when you leave the room and don‘t try to reach out to him for a few days..

you got his head spinning

maybe he would wonder why you‘re ignoring him until he remebers your fight which he almost forgot because it was so unimportant to him

i think he would try to get closer to you so you had to talk to him

but when you still wouldn‘t and he notices the hurt in your eyes, he would wrap his arms around you from behind and whisper in your ear how sorry he is

he couldn‘t believe he really spoke these words but you meant too much to him to loose you over an stupid argument he couldn‘t even remember at first

"How difficult was that for you?" you ask when your little frown on your fave disappears and is switched with a smirk. He rolls his eyes and presses you against him, still whispering in your ear.

"Don‘t try your luck too much darling." While his fingers squeeze your sides

100% rough make up sex where he would punish you for not talking to him

"Fuck you think you can just ignore me? Act like I‘m not there?" while he pounds into you from behind, pushing your face down into the pillow.

"What was that darling? Couldn‘t hear you over all the noises you make."

Theodore Nott:

I have a splitted opinion on Theodore to be honest

on one side he would be the sweetest and comfort you right away without thinking twice about it

but on the other hand I also see him giving you a cold shoulder, also too stubborn and ignorant to realize how much he hurt you

but on either side, when he then would notice how you ignore him he would so something romantic to make it up to you

I just see him with a picnic prepared outside at the lake with your favorite snacks and a plushy for you.

"I‘m so sorry cara mia you mean the world to me, I never meant to hurt you. Please let me male it up to you."

After the picnic and you forgiving him he would pin you down, not giving a fuck who would see you If walking mear by

"Theo! Everyone could see!" you struggle against his fingers on your clit. "hmm let them see how sorry I am principessa."

he would pussy your skirt up and eat you out like Mattheo but without the whole overstimulation

when you come for the first time he wouldn‘t hesitate or waste any time to pull down his pants and fuck you next to the lake

"Fuck we should argue more often If that‘s the outcome of it. Me pounding your tight little pussy amore." You would shoot him a glare but moan his name right after, eyes rolling back

Lorenzo Berkshire:

He would be THE sweetest ever

but also he‘s someone who try‘s to stay calm during fights but then when he is really mad, he just explodes without thinking

as soon as he sees the first tear rolling down your face he would walk over to you and hug you so tight you almost couldn‘t breathe.

"God y/n I am so so so so sorry I swear it will never happen again! Shit I‘m so stupid I don‘t even deserve you baby."

when you would forgive him and already forgot about the fight you two had, he couldn‘t stop thinking about it.

he was just so sorry he had to show you somehow so the first thing that came to his mind was buying you something you wanted since forever

a fucking puppy

"Enzo! Oh my god you did nooot!" you said in a whiny tone about to cry from happiness

"No no no princess please don‘t cry I can bring him back If you don‘t – " "What? No!" you take him out of his hands and look down into it‘s cute face "thank you thank you thank you!"

after the day went by and you two got everything you need for your new baby, you wanted to thank your boyfriend

"Oh – fuck yes." he‘d groan while you ride him, bouncing up and down "Bloody hell I‘ll give you a whole damn zoo If that‘s what‘s going to happen after." he says while gripping your hips and fucking right up into your thankful pussy

Draco Malfoy:

he didn‘t know what to do at first, your cold shoulder towards him felt like a knife in his chest even tho he knew he deserved it

he said some things to you in an argument he wasn‘t proud of, too ashamed when he knew you only wanted the best for him

The only thing he knew was showering you in gifts which would work with little things but not this. You wanted him to apologize with real words.

after days of giving you gift after gift he realized for himself that it wasn‘t going to work.

"Darling? Do you have a minute?" he would ask to which you just nod slighty

He would take a deep breath before speaking " I am sorry for what I said. I truly am. And I never should have said that to you or let my frustration out on you I‘m really ashamed of what vame out of my mouth when everything you wanted was just the best mor me."

It felt like a stone fell from his heart after speaking what he had thought for days and your happy face told him it was just what you wanted to hear

"Shit y/n –" he groans when you take him deeper into your mouth, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"Just wait what we‘ll do after that pretty boy." you chuckled before taking him back knto your mouth and sucking him for dear life.

thank u for reading I hope u liked it 🫶🏻

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @danaeneocleous @sagetakami [if you wanna be removed tell me 💞]

xoxo sarah <3

[eiightysixbaby]

two-player

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

turns out it’s a great idea to screw around with your coworker (2.9k)

cw: 18+ only SMUT. mean!eddie, bratty reader (really they’re just stubborn idiots pining for each other), degradation on the low (eddie calls r some names), use of petnames, spanking, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, lmk if I forgot any!

“I can’t fucking stand you,” you hiss, your chest colliding with metal.

You can hear the metallic jangle of Eddie’s belt buckle coming undone, his free hand pressing hard into your back, keeping you bent over the hood of his van.

He’d been driving you up the wall the entire day, your shift at the arcade seeming to never end. You were at each other’s throats the entire time, spitting insults back and forth like children until Keith had told you to shut the fuck up and go home - he'd close up shop himself - and not bother coming back until you could figure your shit out.

You were seething, tension at an all time high between the two of you when you stomped after him out to the dark, empty parking lot. You aren’t quite sure how you got here, you just know it involved Eddie pressing you up against the back wall of the building, his tongue tangling with yours.

A dry chuckle erupts from deep in Eddie’s throat. “Sure, sweetheart. I’m not that fond of you, either.”

You gasp when his hands tug your shorts down, your panties coming with them in one swift, harsh motion. His ring-clad hand comes down to smack your ass, kicking your feet apart with a heavy boot.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear it. His hands grope each cheek, spreading them to expose your tight little hole, the slick folds of your drenched pussy.

“Are you gonna keep ogling or actually do something, Munson?” you snark, letting out a startled squawk when he slaps your ass again.

“I’m gonna start by fucking that stupid little attitude right out of you,” he grits, gathering each of your hands and bringing your wrists together behind your back, holding them firmly. “Sound like a plan, sugar?” he asks, bending over your frame so that his mouth is inches from your ear.

You’re about to bite back when he swipes the middle and ring fingers of his free hand through your folds, rubbing back and forth through them.

“It’s real fucking cute,” he says, venomous, “that you wanna talk suuuch a big game, but here you are; getting soaked when I’ve barely even touched you.”

You shiver despite the heat of the night, craning your neck to try and get a better look at him. You try to shoot him daggers, but you’re aware you probably just look pathetic. It doesn't help that the fluorescent glow of the Palace Arcade sign was casting him in the prettiest oranges and blues, making him look ethereal.

He’s right, too. All the teasing, the arguing, the insults have done nothing but get you hot for him. You wanted to see how far you could push him, wanted to see if he’d cross into uncharted territory.

And cross he did.

He teases your entrance, swirling the pad of his finger around the slick hole, your back arching.

“Ed-dieee,” you whine, face going impossibly hot when you hear him laugh at you.

“What?” he asks, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?”

You burn, jaw setting as he continues to tease you. “You know what,” you reply meekly.

“Do I? Hmm, I’m not sure. Nothing seems to be coming to mind…”

“Please,” you try, not wanting to have to say the words.

“Oh, so now you can be polite? That’s sweet, but I still wanna hear you say it,” he purrs. “Tell me what you want.”

Your jaw clenches, wanting to tell him off but thinking better of it. He won’t give you anything if you push him too hard. It’s harder than it should be to get the words out of your mouth, feeling petulant in your reluctance to tell him what you need.

“I want…” you say, exhaling sharply. “I want your fingers inside of me.”

“Oh, is that it?” he replies, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on that stupid face of his.

You nod, cheeks inflamed with humiliation. Nevertheless, your core throbs for him, a deep ache that needs to be satiated.

“Eddie…” you whine, so softly, as if you don’t want him to hear it.

But he does. “So needy,” he taunts, fingers continuing to tease your entrance. He draws circles around it, three times before finally giving in.

Two fingers intrude, pushing in to the knuckle. You inhale sharply, jaw hanging slack when his fingers start to curl. The sick squelching sounds he draws from your cunt are enough to make him swear under his breath, a muttered, “Fuck, so wet.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. His fingers fuck you with a precision you haven’t known before. You’d secretly assumed that he’d be good, but this is mind-blowing.

If his fingers feel this good, you have to know how his cock feels.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you’re cumming around his thick digits, cream pooling around his rings.

“That’s it, baby, fuck. Such a god damn whore, cumming so quick,” he bites, but you can hear the condescension wavering in his tone.

You don’t say a word, your brain fuzzy, like the static on a television. Behind you, Eddie’s pulling his cock free from his boxers, and you can hear the rustle of movement when he shoves the clothing down his thighs.

One big hand reaches around to your face, palm open and waiting.

“Spit,” Eddie rasps, and your breath catches in your throat. It takes you a moment too long to compute for his liking. “Did I fucking stutter? Spit.”

You oblige, spitting in his hand, coating it with your saliva. You turn as best you can to watch him stroke his cock with his now slick palm, and a mewl escapes you at the sight of him. His cock is thick and glorious, the tip pink and leaking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting Eddie’s dark eyes.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he asks, smug.

You almost retort with something snarky, but there’s a part of Eddie’s expression that says he really wants your approval. There’s a part of you that simply wants to give him whatever he wants.

“Mhm,” you nod. “It’s so big, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

He steps closer, pressing the head of his cock against your core. You whine, feeling yourself clench around nothing in desperate anticipation to take him. You bite down on your lip when he presses in, teeth sunk hard into the soft skin, fighting back the moan that threatens to break loose. It shouldn't feel this good, he's barely started fucking you, yet your entire body feels like a live wire.

Your hands clench into fists where he holds them behind your back, nails digging into the heels of your palms as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. A sharp whine is punched from your throat against your will, his cock splitting you open wide. His left hand digs into the curve of your hip, bracing himself as he starts to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Eddie, c'mon,” you say, desperate for him to fuck you fast, hard.

“Hm?” he hums, snapping his hips against your ass in a punctuated thrust.

You curse, letting the side of your face rest on the hood of his van. There's a tantalizing, slow drag of his cock pulling back out, making your body feel like it's on fire. You can feel how wet you are, the slick warmth beginning to drip down your inner thighs. The slight humiliation of the way Eddie has you exposed and vulnerable, the way he has you in the palm of his hand, makes your head spin and your skin burn.

Unable to take his devious pace, you huff in frustration. “Please, Eddie. Stop going so slow.”

His fingers squeeze, mean, into the meat of the junction where your hip meets your ass. “You're just never satisfied, are you?”

“I'm not fucking playing, Eddie. Come on. Are you gonna fuck me good or what?”

His nostrils flare, though you don’t see it. If you want to play this game, fine.

“You’re gonna regret that attitude when you can’t even walk during your shift tomorrow,” he snarls, bending his body over yours so that he’s speaking into your ear. “Don’t be a bitch.”

And you hate it — god, you hate it. The way his words go straight to your cunt, the way your walls squeeze his cock in desperation.

You whine in spite of yourself, cheeks going hot when you hear a triumphant puff of air leave Eddie’s nose.

He lets go of your wrists, a dull ache lingering where his fingers had wrapped around them. Both hands free, he grips each of your hips, holding you steady. He pulls his thick cock almost completely out of your needy pussy, before ramming entirely back in. A sharp moan is forced from your lungs, your hands trying and failing to find good purchase against the smooth surface of his van’s hood. Eddie gives you no time to adjust to his new tempo, falling into a quick pace seamlessly. Hands splayed flat on the metal, you prop yourself up on wobbly arms, your limbs feeling like goo.

Eddie’s a pro, his hips bucking against your ass with each deep stroke, the head of his cock pressing firmly into your sweet spot each time. This definitely isn’t his first time, and as good as it feels, it makes you a little bit jealous to think of some other girl in your position. You want him wrapped around your finger, begging on his knees for you and only you.

“Damn, sweetheart, this pussy was fucking made for me,” Eddie purrs. “Think she's been craving my cock for a while,” he says, squeezing your hips harder, the chunky rings on his fingers pressing almost painfully into the soft skin.

You let out a strangled whine, your legs feeling like they're on fire as he fucks you into oblivion. It's taking everything you have to stay standing, and his vulgar words only make your knees more weak.

“Come on, baby, tell me,” he goes on, his voice dropping an octave, husky and raw. “Tell me how long you've been waiting for this.”

Your teeth tug at your lip, embarrassed to reply. He's got you cornered, completely figured out, but admitting your secret desires for him is giving in to his ego.

He pulls his cock all the way out, the weeping tip nudging at your entrance. You whimper pitifully at the absence of him, and he tuts in disapproval.

“Ah-ah,” he leans in close again, the heat of his body over yours making you feel like molten lava. “You don't get what you want if you don't behave,” he speaks slowly, his hot breath on your ear. He rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, taunting you. “Tell me how long you've wanted me. How many nights you've spent with your fingers inside that poor, tight little cunt, wishing they were mine instead.”

You quiver at his command, your pussy throbbing for him as he continues to tease. You'd wanted him for far too long; moaned his name into the empty stillness of your bedroom on late lonely nights; fantasized about the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his hands; stared at him any chance you got at work when he wasn't looking. Or at least, you thought he wasn't looking.

You inhale shakily, Eddie's breathing audible behind you.

“I-I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. Since I started working here, since before then-” you whine, your voice high-pitched and pleading, begging him to give you what you want now that you've relented.

“Do you think of me?” he coos. “When you touch this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Eddie. It's always you, always you,” you confess, gasping when he presses the head of his cock inside your aching walls.

“That’s right, baby. No one else could make you feel this good.” He slowly fills you, the sticky glide of his cock as it nestles deep making your brows furrow and your eyes shut tight.

He stills once he’s fully inside again, your breathing shallow as you anticipate his movement. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, surprising you, but in an instant he’s drawn back, standing upright where you can’t reach those plump lips you so badly long to kiss. Without warning he falls into a quick pace, fucking you harder than before, better than before, if at all possible.

“God. Y'know, sweetheart,” he says, breaking the white noise of the night around you. “It drove me fucking crazy how I could never get you out of my head. No matter what I did, couldn't stop thinking about you,” he continues, grunting with the effort of his thrusts. “You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thought of you,” he says, teeth gritted as he presses against your sweet spot. “Sometimes I'd even come out here and do it on my breaks, just couldn't fucking handle being around you. I've been dying to have you, for so long.”

Your jaw goes slack at his words, a silent moan frozen as you process it. All along it hasn’t just been you with a secret fantasy, no; he’s been right there with you the whole time. In another moment, a different scenario, you'd play back every too-long glance or lingering touch he'd given you in a different context, but right now he's making your head too fuzzy to think that hard.

“Eddie-” you pant, unable to continue. Words swirl in your brain but fail to form a coherent sentence, and you can only hope he's possessed a sudden ability to read your mind. That he can detect how much his words are affecting you.

You're soaking his cock, making each thrust slippery and smooth. You can hear the sick sounds of his balls slapping against your skin, your cunt squelching each time his cock fucks entirely into you.

“I'm, I'm gonna-” you stammer, voice shaky as you teeter on the edge.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. I've been waiting so long for it,” he commands, his voice a low rumble.

His movements don't falter, fucking you even as your legs shake and your walls clench hard around him, over and over. Your cries are incessant, moans and curses of his name into the black hole of twilight that surrounds you. His movements grow sloppier, his previous precision dwindling. Your body grows overstimulated quickly, each drag of his cock setting your insides ablaze.

“Shit, where do you want me to cum?” he asks, sounding nothing like he did before. An almost nervous edge to his tone, his cocky facade crumbling.

“Inside, Eddie, inside,” you rush out, your mouth parting in a gasp when he instantly spills inside of you; not a moment of hesitation.

His cock twitches, a quiet, drawn-out groan leaving his lips. His thrusts slow to an exhausted halt, his breathing ragged with effort.

Your surroundings seem to blur at the edges as you come back to some semblance of reality. He pulls out slowly, your cunt tightening once as if in attempt to keep him inside forever. You don't speak, too afraid that if you do, the whole moment will shatter. That everything he had said would turn out to be a lie, that this was all some joke, something he could hold over your head for the rest of forever.

You stand up straight, your back still towards him, bending to pull your pants back up. You hear him do the same, heavy breaths puffing out of his nose.

“You okay?” he asks finally, waiting for you to look at him, to speak, anything.

You take a shaky breath, relaxing yourself. “That depends,” you reply, turning to face him. You try your best to sound collected, unsure of how well you're really doing after the way he just ruined you.

“On?” He quirks a brow.

“Whether or not you were telling the truth. When- when you said you've been wanting me all this time.” Your voice comes out far breathier than you'd wanted, but you hold your ground, your face emotionless as you await his response.

Eddie's brows shoot up momentarily before softening, an expression you don't see on him often.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, a hand reaching out to grab your waist, pulling you up against him, chest to chest. Your heart pounds and you wonder if he can feel it. “You have me in the palm of your hand,” he murmurs, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I was just too much of a bitch to admit it.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin, your lips parting in a pleasant surprise at his statement. He draws back, deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“Well,” you say, still shaky. “I'm glad we got this sorted out, then.”

Eddie laughs, big and boisterous, so unlike that mean one he'd used before. It makes your heart swell, you want to reach out and grab his face, kiss him till he's breathless and reeling.

“Guess we could both stand to stop being so stubborn, huh?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a cheeky grin.

“Me? Stubborn? I'm not sure what you're talking about, Munson.”

His eyes narrow, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “I could go for round two right now, baby. Don’t test me.”

You crack, breaking into a laugh. “I’d actually really like to be able to walk during my shift tomorrow, and my chances of that are already slim, so can I take a rain check?”

He snorts, a playful roll of his eyes accompanying it. “Sure. A rain check. Just let me know when and where.”

“Preferably not in this parking lot.”

“Noted.”

[inkskinned]

"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!