#You can blame the person I reblogged this from for getting me into the game

[87kelce]

—can we please get back to loving?

summary: you knew the term exclusive was never something travis would ever use when it comes to your relationship. but you seemed to be the only one he called when he wanted someone around.

warnings: angst, smut (18+ only, no minors), arguments, slow sex, riding, pussy eating, spooning

word count: 2660

notes: title taken from the song written all over your face by louis tomlinson. not proofread so if there's any mistakes i apologise. again likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🫶

You never seemed to get a moments peace at night anymore. You knew better than to answer his calls, however the majority of the time, he was already waiting outside to be let in. But you just couldn't deny how good the sex was. He's barely doing anything and you're coming undone beneath him every time, his soft lips and wandering hands doing wonders on your body.

But then there were times he called and it wasn't for sex. He'd maybe just lost a game and he needs a pick me up, so he calls you. You talk for hours until he hears you yawning and then he thanks you for calming him down and tells you to get some rest. He also apologises for rambling on and keeping you awake for so long, but you tell him it's fine and you'd rather sit up and talk to him if it meant he was ok. You're always worried about him after a loss, he always blames himself for not doing enough and it hurts you that he feels that way.

Then you invited yourself over to his place one day, and he gladly let you in. You knew he had a game the next day so there was no chance of having sex, but at least you could help him focus on the game. He seemed to be in a good mood—he was making you laugh, you were watching TV together and you, slowly but surely, were falling for him. You were falling for the way his eyes practically disappeared when he laughed, falling for the way he always looked at you like you were the only thing in the room, falling for the way he kissed you softly and gently, falling for the way he felt so comfortable around you all the time.

But it was never exclusive, you knew he didn't want that. You were just there for a hook up and to hang out sometimes. If you didn't stop the whole ordeal, you were afraid you might get too attached and he won't reciprocate those same feelings. So you started ignoring his calls, and when he'd text you and ask what's wrong, you make up lies.

I'm too tired. I'm not feeling great. I've got friends over.

But he knew you better than that. After the third excuse he just invited himself over, making up his own excuse of I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And you knew better than to invite him in. But now he's on your couch, flicking through the channels on your TV, completely making himself at home.

"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"

"Hm?"

Travis turned to face you, eyebrows raised. He clearly hadn't heard you, too focused on the TV and you just sighed.

"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"

"Let's not discuss that.. I don't want to start a fight."

"Was I the only girl you were seeing?"

"Don't.."

"I want you to be honest with me."

He sighed, switching off the TV and getting up, walking to the kitchen. He opened your fridge and grabbed a water bottle, taking a sip before coming back to the couch. But he didn't say anything, just sat there in silence before he took his phone out and started scrolling through it.

"Travis.."

"I'm just.. I don't know."

"Is it me? Is it something I've done?"

"No."

You just sighed, getting up and going to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you and flopping onto your bed, crying into your pillow. He's like a completely different person now, compared to the person he was last week, laughing with you on the phone and being so sweet and kind to you. You're just waiting and hoping he knocks on your door, apologises and sweeps you off your feet again, like a knight in shining armour. But you're pretty sure he couldn't care less, and honestly, you're not even sure why he invited himself over in the first place. If he was worried about you, he could've called. You don't know why he was so adamant about being here with you, but not actually being with you.

After one of his games, he gave you an old jersey and you still kept it under your pillow, claiming it helped you sleep better. You reached under and grabbed it, bunching it up and cuddling it. Maybe if you hadn't tried to push him away, he might still be the nice Travis you knew two weeks ago. You kept blaming yourself, putting yourself at fault for everything between you and him, until a knock at your door startled you. You wiped your eyes, getting up and opening it.

"You okay? I was gonna check on you when you slammed the door but.. thought I'd give you some space."

"I'm fine, you can go home if you want."

"That movie you like is on, wanna watch it?"

"Just.. go home."

"I can't go home, not when you're like this."

"I said I'm fine."

"You're not."

He's being pushy but he needs to be, he needs to get you to admit that you're not okay. He knows you better than yourself sometimes and you just roll your eyes, pushing past him to sit on the couch, watching the movie starting. He threw his head back and sighed, but just as he tilted his head back and went to turn and follow you, he noticed the jersey. He remembers giving it to you, smiling when you immediately put it on and twirled round in it. Truthfully, although he won't admit it, that was the first moment he fell in love with you.

He walks into your room, grabbing the jersey before going back to sit with you on the couch. He just throws it down on the middle section of the couch, before sitting down and turning to look at you.

"You keep it on your bed?"

"Under my pillow.."

He just smiled, still watching you until you smiled back at him. He was almost magnetic, pulling you right back into him whenever he could. You let him in so easily and you know you shouldn't.

But then he's pulling you onto his lap, his mouth on your neck, lips soft against your skin. Your hands move up to the back of his neck, fingers scratching gently at the nape of his neck.

"Trav.."

"Shh.. feels good right?"

You just nodded, eyes closing shut.

"Then let it happen.."

As you pulled back slightly, his head tilted, lips moving to the other side of your neck. You felt like you were spinning, feeling all dizzy when he kissed you, ultimately making you forget you were mad at him in the first place. Then you remember he has practice again tomorrow, and it's important.

"We can't do this.. not tonight."

He ignores you at first, kissing along your collarbone and you have to push yourself away from him so he looks up at you.

"Listen to me.. we can't do this.."

"You still mad at me?"

"No, but you have practice again tomorrow."

He just sighs, hands fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. It then hits you that he probably came here just to have sex, his excuse of making sure you were okay was just a lie. You push off him completely, sliding to sit next to him on the couch. But one of his hands is still on your waist, thumb circling gently on your skin.

"I need you to be genuinely honest with me, okay?"

"Okay.."

"Did you come over here for just a hookup?"

"No. You just.. kept avoiding me and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You stood up from the couch, starting to pace around the room. Sure, he's cared about you but you just can't seem to figure out why he came over to make sure you were alright. He always just calls you, talking your ear off for hours on end and making you laugh to forget about why you were ever upset in the first place.

"I can't keep just having sex. But you don't want to be exclusive with me."

"You want the truth?"

"Please."

"I think you're so fucking cool. I get so happy when you answer my calls, those conversations we have are the one thing I look forward to on my off days. I push all these feelings down because I'm fucking terrified, my work is hectic and I.. I just don't want you to get overwhelmed by it all."

He had sat up now, head facing the ground after he spoke. You slowly sat down, one of your hands reaching for his.

"I remember giving you that jersey.. the way you got all giddy and excited when you put it on. I.."

You squeezed his hand gently and he turned his head to look at you. Then he sat back and once again, pulled you into his lap.

"Ever since then.. I can't stop thinking about you. It's just.. the travelling for away games, you wouldn't be with me for a few days and—"

"Trav.."

He looked into your eyes, feeling your hands cup his cheeks.

"I can handle a few days without you every so often.."

"Are you sure?"

You just smiled, kissing his forehead.

"I'm sure."

You let go of his face as he pulled you in against him, his forehead resting against the side of your neck. Everything felt so heavy with him before, but you didn't know that it was all on him. You had doubts that if you told him how you felt, that he wouldn't reciprocate those same feelings. There was no way you could've predicted him actually being in love with you. Especially with the sex, but now, as he moved his head back and kissed you softly on your neck, he could be sweet and gentle with you.

He moved his hands to your waist, shuffling forward on the couch before standing up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Walking you to the bedroom, you dropped your head to his shoulder, tilting your head to kiss the side of his neck. You unwrapped your legs from his waist when you felt the bed dip beneath you as he lay you down. One of his hands fumbled with your shorts as the other bunched your shirt up, his fingers brushing over your nipple, making you gasp slightly.

His head was resting against your stomach, lips leaving lingering kisses all over your skin, and you couldn't help but watch him, eyes closed and savouring every moment with you. He had managed to wiggle your shorts and underwear off, and now his mouth was kissing the inside of your thighs. You were still looking down at him when he flashed his eyes up at you, his mouth hovering over your core. He moved your left leg over his shoulder, while he pushed at the back of your thigh on your right leg, keeping it open. The hand that wasn't holding your leg open, wrapped around your other leg, trying to keep you in place while he buried his head between your legs. He could feel you squirming underneath him and almost anticipated your movements, his head moving in time with you.

You threw your head back when he delved his tongue inside, mouth still attached to your folds. Again, he flashed his eyes up at you, grinning when he saw you slightly arch your back up off the sheets. He licked through your folds a couple more times, before you reached one hand down, pushing against his forehead.

"Trav.. please.. too much.."

But he didn't stop, he just pushed his tongue deeper, licking faster, your whines and moans only egging him on further. But just as he knew you were close, he pulled away, reaching down and wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt. He then shrugged your leg off his shoulder and stood up in between your legs.

"You close?"

"Mmph.. mmhm.."

You slowly opened your eyes, watching him walk round the bed, before sitting down and patting his thighs. You slowly turned over, crawling up the bed and swinging your leg over his thighs. When his hands found your waist, he smiled up at you, brushing your hair out your face.

"There's my girl.."

You just blushed, lowering yourself down and hiding your face in his neck.

"Does my girl wanna come?"

"Please?"

He reached behind you and pulled at his shorts, dragging them off. He returned his focus to you, realising still how sensitive you already were and started to move his hands up and down your sides, squeezing gently and almost trying to massage you. While his hands were occupied, you lifted yourself onto your knees slightly, reaching down between both your bodies and adjusting yourself onto him, sinking down and sighing into his shoulder when he was fully inside.

"Take it easy, baby.. nice and slow."

You were feeling so overwhelmed that you couldn't move much, rather just grinding against him. His hands on your waist made you move, lifting you off him slightly before pushing you back down. His lips were kissing your neck, softly and sweetly, and you could feel him smiling against your skin.

Since he had basically eaten you out to almost orgasm earlier, it didn't take long before you let go against him, mumbling out that you were close.

"Let go.. I got you.."

You sighed out in relief, legs slightly trembling around him as he shh'd and cooed at you. He gave you a few languid thrusts himself to ride you through it and over it, before you felt him grunt in your ear. He was close and although you were still sensitive and still coming down from your own high, you wanted to help him get to his. Grinding your hips down onto him, he threw his head back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut and his mouth open.

"Unless you want me to come inside you, you better get off my dick.."

You pulled off him and heard him sigh against your neck, dropping his head back to your shoulder. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue, cleaning himself up. You then slid off him, laying down on the bed, feeling him drag his shorts back on before laying down behind you, arm wrapping around your waist.

"I hate when we fight.."

"I know, baby.. but if we hadn't had that fight, I wouldn't have realised what a dick I was being and wouldn't have told you how I feel about you. I could've just left when you told me to leave.."

"I'm glad you didn't.."

He just smiled and kissed your shoulder, before nuzzling his forehead against it.

"Now.. you gotta sleep, you have practice tomorrow.. and I don't think Reid will let you turn up late.. again.."

He just laughed, kissing your shoulder again before resting his head into the pillow. You felt his hand play with the hem of your t-shirt for a while before he stopped and you knew he'd drifted off to sleep. You stayed awake for a while after that, unable to think about anything except Travis. Eventually your eyes fluttered closed and you drifted off to sleep, warmed by his arm around your stomach.

[sydnikov]

Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

────────────────────────────────

Taglist: @ballsakic @bbbbruins @kapriz0v @girlmeetsamerics @bbnhlqueen7 @iwantahockeyhimbo @sebbyaho @heatherawoowoo @matsbarzal @nillspettersson @teuvomakesmesmile @typical-simplelove @grittysbattinggloves @stars-canucks @nachodaze @besthockeyfics @sidcrosbyspuck @ilyasorokinn @ssebastianaho @sepeteuvo @drei-mrssvechii @tanninetanya @insomniren @hyppeln-agnes @canesqueen @the-jarvy-party @martynecass @yagetintoit @2manytabsopen @huggy-hischier4394 @diary-of-kk @estapa94 @spacesurfing @ellswilliams @pbandj14 @cixrosie @poufsouffle21

Add yourself to my 18- (SFW) Taglist here!

Add yourself to my 18+ (NSFW) Taglist here!

[hihello-pinky]

middle of the night

last installment to the After 8PM mini series (yep, calling it that) hehe

part one | part two

suna rintarou x afab reader!

angst to fluff, ig

latter part is not edited and written during the middle of the night (intended)

likes and reblogs will be appreciated! xoxo

leave me love? (tips!)

***

almost everyone will agree that finding something to dislike about hani nakamura is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

you remember the first time you overhear that statement at lunch in the cafeteria, and you laughing a little to yourself. you can’t even blame the gossiping students because that’s just how nice hani is.

however, you should have known that when trying to find a needle in a haystack, you begin to doubt its existence until you feel a prick and you’re bleeding and the needle already got you.

the pain you’re currently feeling is far akin to a small prick as you replay the conversation you had with suna at the convenience store in the middle of the night again and again and again.

“what did you want to talk about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” he had asked.

you had taken a deep breath before replying, the words came out of you quickly, as if your bravery for confessing has a timer. “well, i… i have something to tell you. it’s actually a bit selfish of me to say this to you but… i like you as more than just a friend, rin, and it’s been a while now. i’m sorry for suddenly springing this unto you but i just have this need to confess or else i would feel like exploding inside. you don’t have to say anything; you can choose to interact less with me from now on but yeah, i just really needed to get it off of my chest.”

suna had surprised you with his reaction. he had a deep frown on his face and given you an accusing look. “do you really not want me to be happy?”

“huh?”

“for fuck’s sake, y/n, i know about your little game! hani told me everything. you dropping all the hints all those months ago, fueling whatever sort of feelings i had for you, playing with my heart, when you only want to use me to be closer to osamu. i even chose to ignore those because i know we’re young and inclined to do stupid, bad things. but damn! can’t you just leave me alone?”

and you were so dumbstruck by what he had told you that you were only able to look at him in disbelief.

“cat got your tongue?” he bitterly asked before breaking eye contact.

you shook your head after you had processed what he said and with a defeated sigh, said, “we’ve been friends for two years. did you really believe i was that kind of person? why didn’t you ask me to confirm it? and most importantly, i grew up with the miyas so why would i even use you to get to osamu, who, by the way, is like a brother to me? you know what, suna? maybe you’re right. i should leave you alone. i don’t deserve to be around someone who would easily believe lies about me.”

you feel tears roll down your cheeks as you force your mind to stop the reel of what would probably be the last time you ever talked to suna. not for the first time, you wish to never have called him and asked to meet. oh, to only have sucked the pain up and not confess to him. maybe the heartbreak would be less than what you have to deal with right now.

the concerned look on his face as he met you in the convenience store doesn’t matter anymore; neither does the fact that he was wearing the hoodie you’ve always asked him to give to you.

hurt, betrayal, and anger all brew inside of you. you can’t even fully process everything. hani, who everyone sees as the sweet and kind person betrayed you as a friend. suna, who had captured your heart, hurt you for believing that you are capable of doing such terrible things. and to top it all, anger at the both of them and mostly anger at yourself for walking away from suna before he can even respond to what you said to him.

*

suffice it is to say, the next time you see suna is extremely awkward. it’s at volleyball practice and thankfully, you’re not the sole manager of the club, making it easier for you to avoid any interactions with him.

“are you feeling better now?” osamu quietly asks you as he takes the water bottle from your hand during one of their breaks.

you reply with a nod but before you can let go of the bottle and escape from the twin's prodding questions, the grey-haired boy uses it to pull you closer to him. “you didn’t respond to any of my messages yesterday and you’re avoiding suna like he’s the plague.”

you click your tongue. of course he would notice. the same way he knew the reason of your breakdown in his car after that dinner. i’m not an idiot, y/n. i can see through your lies during all the time ‘sumu and me teased you. you actually really like sunarin.

“i swear i’m fine, ‘samu. stop being a worry-wart for me, okay?” you forcefully take your hand from the bottle and you swivel away from the twin only to meet eyes with suna.

it’s obvious he’s been watching the interaction and your chest tightens, thinking about what he said the other night. once you notice him begin to walk towards your direction, you quickly turn to tend to aran. thankfully, the coach calls for the practice to resume not long after.

you usually admire suna during practice (when you’re not too busy taking notes) but just seeing him at the present brings back memories of what happened so you try to avoid looking at him. those same memories keeping you up at night. suna, at your favorite convenience store in the middle of the night, looking at your exasperatedly and shooting words that hurt you while wearing your favorite hoodies of him.

the coach’s whistle echoes in the gym, breaking you out of your sorrowful thoughts. “suna, are you not feeling well? you seem a lot distracted.”

suna sighs heavily and you barely miss your co-managers whispering to each other how there are rumors that suna recently got in a lovers' quarrel with hani. your heart is thumping wildly as you watch him approach the coach who is sitting very near to where you’re standing.

“sorry, coach,” he says as he scratches at his nape. “yes, i’m not feeling well.” he then shoots you a not-so-subtle quick look. “can y/n accompany me to the clinic?”

*

he knows it’s a foul move to involve the coach and the team in the middle of practice but suna didn’t know what else to do. you’ve blocked his number and all his social accounts. his attempts to talk to you in person have all been futile. it's not helping that osamu refuses to talk to him about you.

so, really, he was left with no choice.

however, you remain awfully quiet as the two of you walk towards the school infirmary, a good distance between your bodies. he wants to talk to you but he doesn’t know where to begin, especially that this is very different from all the times that he has walked you home in the past where a silence is most welcome, oftentimes interrupted when a stray cat passes by.

when you arrive at the clinic, the nurse is out so you take seats at the waiting area. “y/n…” he finally says after a few moments pass with your deliberately ignoring him.

you still refuse to look at him and instead play with your hands. the action calls his attention towards your wrist and it breaks his heart to see the absence of the beaded bracelet that you always wore ever since he gave it to you after he won it in an egg claw machine game a year ago.

“y/n, please… will you hear me out?” suna doesn't mind that there obviously is desperation in his voice,

your jaw clenches a little as your fingers pause. he imagines the internal conflict within you before you finally let out a soft sigh. “okay.”

suna doesn’t miss a beat. “i’m sorry. i’m so, very sorry, y/n. i talked to hani and she admitted to everything. still, it does not change the fact that i hurt you by believing in her lies. i don’t know what happened to me and i have no excuse for myself.”

when you finally look at him, he almost wishes you continued to avoid his gaze. gone is the warmth that he always sees in your gaze and in its place is just hurt and sadness. “i just keep thinking… that all these months, during our every interaction, at the back of your mind, there’s this thought that i’m a bad person. and i…” your voice breaks as you swallow. “i don’t know, suna. why didn’t you just talk to me?”

why? it’s the same question he’s been pestering himself with for the past two nights. how could he let that happen? why was he easily deceived by hani’s lies?

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he apologizes again, aware of the despair laced in his voice. “i wish i can take away the hurt i’ve caused you.”

your teary eyes mirror his own. “i don’t know if i can trust my so-called friends ever again. i’m just confused and sad and hurt, rin.”

the slip of his nickname buries the hatchet deeper in his chest and suna just wants to scream. he wants to say that he broke up with hani shortly after she confessed about the lies. but that wouldn’t change anything now, and it’s not like you would care. not knowing what else to do, he moves to sit beside you and carefully reaches for your hand.

when you don’t resist, he begins to rub this thumb against your palm as he gently maneuvers your head against his shoulder. his chest tightens as the sleeve of his uniform quickly dampens.

no more words leave either of your mouths, the silence enveloping you as he lets you cry against him, just like how he let your tears stain his hoodie the first time you bumped into each other at the 12th convenience store in the middle of the night over a year ago, the warmth of his shoulder comforting you from your pet hedgehog’s passing.

only this time, your tears are caused by him.

*

“suna, you’ve been a close friend of miya atsumu ever since high school, how are you feeling about his engagement?” the reporter asks behind the camera.

you watch suna wear that signature smirk of his. “of course i’m happy for my friend, and i wish a lot of good luck to his beloved.” his answer causes a few laughter from around him.

“how about you, then? you’ve been extremely secretive about your love life.” the reporter follows up excitedly.

suna raises an eyebrow. “i thought you said you only have one question for me?” he shakes his head before beginning to walk away. “but all i can say is that i’m happy.”

the reporter fumbles a little but he has lost suna already, so he moves on to one of the other players from the national team.

you’re about to switch channels when a small figure joins you on the couch. “mama! was that papa?”

you turn to your son – a complete miniature of his father – and ruffle his hair. “yes, sweetie.”

he breaks into a toothless grin and goes to the center of the living room to dance around, all the while singing about how his papa is in the television.

meanwhile, your phone rings and you answer it quickly. “hey.”

“hey. did you watch?”

“yeah… you were so great. though i have one question for you, and i promise it’s one question only.”

rin’s soft chuckle at the other end of the line makes your heart flutter. “so you saw the interview? go on, what’s your question, love?”

you take a quick but deep breath before asking. “do you ever regret agreeing to keeping our relationship secret? like, nobody knows you’re married and with a kid, and most people think you’re just some volleyball-obsessed person who’s going to grow old alone.”

he laughs once again. “i didn’t know people think that about me,” he mocks surprise. “but to answer your question, no. i’d rather people believe i’d grow old alone than curse me for being a jerk who once hurt the love of his life when they were teens.

"i also don’t want people to know that i spent my senior year in high school trying to woo you and earn your forgiveness. how you forgave me and we became friends again but then you rejected me when i confessed after graduation? no way.”

you’re also laughing now, reminiscing on the past. how, after that day in the clinic, you and suna drifted for the rest of sophomore year. you had wanted space and he respected that.

you never got closure with hani, her family coincidentally having to move to tokyo after that school year ended but you think that’s for the best. you didn’t know what you would have told her anyway.

“so all this secrecy because you don’t want people to know that you’ve been rejected?” the teasing in your voice makes you giggle yourself.

“yes,” he replies playfully. “and also because i want to protect you! i remained loyally single for years until you finally agreed to a date during your senior year in university. god knows some crazy fans might curse you for making the suna rintarou wait for you!"

“and whose fault is that?” you’re smiling crazily into the phone now. “also, since we’re spilling stuff here, how about you also tell the world how you knocked me up three months into our relationship?”

your eyes drift to your three-year-old son who’s running towards the sounds at the front door. it’s when you notice that rin has dropped the call. he crouches down to kiss your son at the top of his head before covering his ears. “again, i’m sorry about that accident honey, but look at our little angel, isn’t he a cutie?”

you cross the small distance from the couch to the doorway. finally reaching your husband, you kiss him on the cheek. “the world is missing out on seeing your cute mini version.”

he wraps an arm around you as you both watch your son whose attention has gone back to the toys on the carpet. “what’s with all these hints, love? are you saying you’re finally okay with giving the public a glimpse of our happy life?”

you nuzzle your head against his chest. “maybe yes. maybe no… maybe later when…”

“hmm?”

you don’t respond for a while. “say, rin, do you want to drop by the 12th convenience store later around midnight once our son is asleep? i already asked osamu to come over to watch him.”

rin hums against you. "that's random, though? and how come you get 'samu to agree to babysitting favors so easily when i have to literally boost the sales of his onigiri?"

"silly, silly, sunarin," you singsong as you slap him playfully. "so, what do you think? wanna go to our convenience store later, at the middle of the night?"

"okay. do i need to bring the big eco-bag for the snacks we will be hauling?"

you untangle yourself from his arms as you make your way to your child. a perfect guise to hide your grin. "actually, no. we'll just be buying a little item."

*

in hindsight, you should have known better.

atsumu miya, despite being a professional volleyball player and recently getting engaged to the nonchalant sakusa kiyoomi, still likes to drink alcohol.

here you find yourself again at a long table, your friends from the volleyball club in high school gathered along with some of their plus ones. onigiri miya had closed early today for the private event. as osamu miya worked on the food with the help of his new assistant (whose eyes can't stop admiring her boss, but you'll tease osamu about that later) his blonde brother is already almost done with his first bottle.

he's telling the story of how they pranked one of their teammates that he and sakusa had broken up as a way of sharing their engagement. when the poor younger boy learned of the joke, he had ignored them to the point that atsumu had to reach out to kageyama to get him to talk to him.

"i told you it was a stupid idea and yet you didn't listen," sakusa adds to the ending of atsumu's story.

you laugh with your friends around the table, your lips opening up in a yawn once the laughter dies down. rin, ever the observant lover, lowly asks if you're okay, gently squeezing your hand he's holding under the table.

"i'm fine," you smile sweetly at him and his eyes soften a little. upon seeing he's still a little bit worried, you peck his cheek. "don't worry about me."

"you should be getting some rest," he says.

he must have said it louder than he intended or maybe you two just did not notice the table going quiet. atsumu speaks. "rest? suna, we're still not at the age to be tucking in bed at 8:00 PM. you know what we actually need? drinks!"

somehow, he gets the others to drink as well. shortly after, osamu finishes with the food preparation and his assistant, along with kita and aran, help set the table. the group happily eat and converse, sharing updates about their lives and reminiscing on their high school days. suddenly, you feel someone glaring at you.

"what?" you curiously ask atsumu whose eyes are looking at you with as much focus as he can muster with his tipsy state. "you're cheating!"

"huh?" your brows are furrowed and you turn to rin beside you but to your surprise, he's laughing. everyone looks at the both of you, half-intrigued and half amused.

rin kisses your forehead before taking the glass on his left and sipping. "he meant this, love. idiot surprisingly notices i've been drinking for us."

you're pretty sure you're already blushing. "oh."

"ah ha!" atsumu looks proud. "so i was right? come one, y/n, it's no fair! why are you not drinking? omimi and ginjima are the designated drivers tonight so no need to hold back!"

your cheeks still feel warm. "actually, i can't... i shouldn't have been drinking three weeks ago..." you exchange a look with rin and he nods at you. before you can continue, atsumu cuts you off with an excited squeal. "suna rintarou! how dare you keep this secret from me! and you, y/n, i thought i'm your brother!"

"for goodness' sake, 'tsumu, calm down," suna responds to the blonde, we actually only found out a week ago."

atsumu pouts, his cute drunken antics entertaining everyone at the table. "fine, forgiven. but i better be the godfather this time around!"

*

despite ginjima's insistence to drive you and rintarou home, you both decline his offer. after all, the walk home for onigiri miya restaurant to your home is not that far and late night walks with your rin is always welcome.

the moon and stars provide the two of you light as you walk home, your arms linked together. the night's breeze is nothing against rin's warm body. "love, i'm gonna tell you something but please don't panic, okay?"

his sudden sentence surprises you but you hum in agreement anyway.

"we're being followed by some media."

"oh."

he stops in his track, urging you to do the same. he looks down at your face, eyes holding gentleness one would not have expected from the stoic middle blocker. "do you want me to tell them off?"

you surprise yourself by saying no. rin cocks his head slightly before you respond. "i think i'm okay with a little bit of our private life being shared to the world."

he studies your face for a moment before smiling. "okay."

"okay?"

"yeah," he breathes close, hand already cupping your face. you get on your tiptoes as suna rintarou leans down and kisses you, but not before softly whispering, "i love you, y/n."

camera shutters be damned.

*

[ 11:07 PM]

[Instagram Update: s.rintarou posted a photo]

[is the "growing old alone" in the room with us?]

-end-

[wayfayrr]

I can't believe that I almost missed Sky's aniversary!!! happpy twelvth birthday to skyward sword! <3 I'd just like to say thank you to @yourlocaltreesimp for reblogging something that reminded me that today is the boys birthday - this peice is all because of them I wrote it in 40 mins so sky could have something for his bd before the date changes It's a continuation on my self aware sky fic with some headcanons and a small drabble under the cut about how the both of you celebrate his birthday <3

[masterlist]

✦ After about a month and a half of being with you, the both of you are quite used to living together. With Sky getting a grip on how to handle being a real flesh and blood person now - the both of you have even started on getting paperwork sorted for him to be recognised as a real person even if he’s never seen apart from your side

✦ The past few days though he’s had this energy around him, like a little kid excited for their - oh that's right, you’d almost forgotten the anniversary of his game was coming up. No wonder why he’d be so excited about it. 

✦ In the time it’s taken you to realise the date he’s taken his chance to be a little more clingy, you can blame nostalgia for him wanting to be closer. The feeling of the day he was created making him come to terms with just how lucky he was to be standing right next to you - his saviour lover. 

✦ If you were to do anything for him, say buy him gifts, treat him to an expensive meal, take him for a date, set aside the day for him or heck even spend the morning in bed cuddling with him? He’d fall for you all over just being flattered to the core over how much you care about him, if there was even a sliver of a chance of him loosing his possessive tendencies before that chance is shattered beyond repair now. You’re his and he’s never letting go.

✦ with how nostalgic he’s gotten, it’s not all that much of a surprise that he’s asked if he can play through the game on his own, with you sitting right next to him naturally 

“Are you sure about this Link? I mean I’ve not touched it since you well, since you crawled out. Who’s to say that he won’t figure it out as well?”

“It should be fine, what would be the odds of it happening twice? Besides if it does I’d bet he’ll feel the same way my dove.”

He’s not certain which is as clear as day, of course he doesn’t have a clue what could happen if he plays. What would happen if the version of himself he plays as hates him more than anything? If he gets jealous? If he tries to bring him back? Link hasn’t considered any of that, not that I can hold it against him. After that first day out of the game he’s mellowed out so much, it really was his desperation that made him terrifying - not that that doesn’t slip out every now and then of course. If he really wants to play? We’ll deal with the consequences of it together.

“If you’re really sure then love, want me to grab some snacks while you set up the switch?”

“I’d love that, thank you, darling.”

A soft kiss to my cheek is all that I need to become a blushing mess as he moves to turn everything on, including the new tv I had to buy after he shattered the old one, not too expensive but still more of a hassle than I wanted to have to deal with. Seeing as he’s never had any previous experience with any technology like this he’s picked it up like a natural, so in no time at all we’re back to sitting together on my couch to play. It’s nice like this, all gentle and domestic. If you didn’t know Link wasn’t originally a ‘real’ person you wouldn’t even be able to tell, he fits in like he was always supposed to be here with me. The clothes he’s nicked only adding onto that feeling of belonging like he’s just any other boyfriend stealing his partner's clothes. 

“Guess now is the moment of truth to whether or not I’ll be dealing with another nuisance stealing my heart then.”

“I wouldn’t let him take your heart, that belongs to me and only me.”

“Alright then, are you gonna make a save then my lovable anomaly or are you just gonna threaten someone you’re not sure even exists?”

“I’m making it my dearest player, I just had to make sure you were fully certain of where I stand.”

True to his word, he did make a save file - although he did name it something different than his own name - not before kissing me yet again though. Playing it with him was nice, seeing his reactions to his past where he didn’t have to get traumatised? It’s one of the sweetest things I've seen in a long while. It did seem I was right though, he didn’t manage to get to demise before we had a shocked link staring at the both of us like his world had been ripped apart. His reaction was so different to my link’s though.

He’s petrified. 

“Wh- What’s going on - who are you both – wh- wh-” … “And why do you look just like me?”

[bg3-bitching]

Re the same 2 conversations happening over and over, I want to submit another recurring theme that comes up so frequently it’s nearly impossible to avoid: the idea that an “imperfect survivor” like Astarion really needs compassion and patience from others—except in the context of this game, this innocuous-on-its-own idea is overwhelmingly framed as “therefore a good person would stick with Astarion through his cruelty and sexual manipulations because he needs to be cruel and sexually manipulate you in order to feel safe, but give him time and he’ll get better!” And anyone who expresses basic dislike for Astarion’s early behavior is told “but stick with him and he has the best development” at best, and at worst, “you must hate stories of survivors who aren’t ‘perfect.’” Where to begin with the conflations and assumptions? As though it’s impossible to be a survivor or care about survivors and not love this cruel, manipulative, abusive character. As though it is never valid for anyone worthy of respect to find Astarion’s early behavior a dealbreaker. As though finding Astarion’s actual cruelty and sexual manipulations too high a price to pay for whatever development he has later is a sign of an inferior moral character in real life. And don’t get me started on the tendency to call holding Astarion accountable for his cruel words and actions “victim-blaming.” In a word, yikes?

Which brings me to another point about this character being less than groundbreaking: “you owe it to a cruel man to stay with him and endure him treating you badly because he’s only cruel as a result of his past suffering and he will get better through your love” is not a new message at ALL. Especially not to women. And while I will give it to the game that this wasn’t necessarily intended in the writing, too often this is exactly what a lot of the gushing about Astarion’s character falls into and regurgitates. It can be a bad time to run into that over and over again, especially combined with other characters being vilified in comparison with Astarion. It can feel as though the efforts to drive home that “you never owe someone who is cruel to you a relationship, it is not your moral obligation to fix them through your love, you are not a bad or unkind person for leaving to protect yourself” is being directly combatted. Even though I know it’s just a game, when the rhetoric about “why Astarion matters so much” takes this form, it can feel really hostile. Rather than expanding awareness and empathy for all survivors, it often feels like another game of “this cruel white man’s pain matters more than other people’s safety.”

(Disclaimer about “not every Astarion fan says these things, just enough to be a disturbing pattern and impact one’s experience in general fan spaces,” etc.)

I have a response to this, but I'm gonna do a separate reblog for it.

This ask by itself needs to stand alone and be seen.

[kitkat-the-muffin]

A lot of people are being aggressive about Hogwarts Legacy so let me just say this

As a Jew with many close trans friends, and as someone who despises Rowling and refuses to feed into her IP ever again, I admit that Hogwarts Legacy looks like nostalgic heaven

And that’s why so many people struggle to fight against it. It feeds on our nostalgia for funky wizard world that we loved before Rowling did all these horrible things (or at least before they were brought to light)

I saw clips of the game (a well-meaning friend wanted my opinion on Sirona) and it genuinely looks like something I’d have a blast playing if it wasn’t for stupid JKR and her anti-semitic bias

So please don’t blame others for being tricked into getting the game. Those clips I saw almost tricked me, because no matter how bad the quality it still contains a nostalgic thrill that’s hard to ignore

Instead, help your friends and fellow humans to better understand the issue behind the game’s purchase and production. Don’t scream at them that they are horrible people for making this mistake. Help them learn

Tell them the truth, and be patient. Good people will always listen to what you have to say in the defense of your and your friend’s cultures. This aggression that’s trending isn’t helping anyone change their minds

Shouting “I want to spit in JKR’s salad” doesn’t stop her stans from spitting in your salad. Both sides of the problem echo each other. Be the true heroes and show the world why she’s a bad person instead of shouting insults at each other

How can we fight the power if they’ve tricked us into fighting each other?

Edit: Please read my additional reblog for further elaboration before you comment

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 2

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, minor Colin Shea x Female Reader

Word Count: 5418

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking, explicit language, bad boyfriend, self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. The reader's having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part One Masterlist

A/N: We're back! I so enjoyed writing this part. I hope you like reading it! Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you thought will be greatly appreciated. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You were stretched out on one of your lounge chairs by the pool, sunglasses perched on your head, wearing a bikini with a sheer coverup draped over your shoulders and an aperol spritz in your hand as you tried, for the third time, to get through this script.  It was unbelievably dull. And the female lead was barely a person. You were clearly wrong for it. At least ten years too young, for a start. But your agent, Wilford, was insistent that you read it. Some up and coming guy was attached to it and apparently, he could be ‘talked into you’ for it. And as Wilford always said, “It’s not what it is, it’s what it represents.” So you would read it. And you’d tell him why you didn’t like it, and he’d talk you into it anyway. Same as it ever was.

  You heard the door to the patio open and close. Michelle and Curtis had both been out doing who knows what and now you figured one of them was back and needed something from you. You’d been grateful to have the time on your own after a few days of Curtis’s careful glances. You didn’t remember exactly what you’d said or done after your fight with Colin outside the club, but you woke up with the feeling that you’d said something to Curtis and the way he’d watched you since seemed to confirm it. But he hadn’t said anything, so you hoped that you hadn’t embarrassed either of you too much.

When you looked up, it wasn’t either Curtis or Michelle who was standing on your deck.

“Mom!” you said. You blamed your shock for the fact that the next words out of your mouth were “Who let you in?” She was supposed to go through Michelle if she was going to visit, give a few days notice, let you prepare yourself.

“Who let me in?” she asked, aghast, her Chanel bag swaying aggressively from her arm. “That’s how you greet your mother? Who let me in?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice small. You were not prepared for this today. “I was just surprised.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You and your rules. Well, if you must know, it was the young man with the goatee and muscles. I don’t think I’ve seen him before. He’s not nearly as rude as the other people that work for you.”

“He’s new on my security team. His name’s Jensen.”

She waved dismissively at that. Of course she wouldn’t be bothered to remember. She sat down on the lounge chair next to yours and fanned her long, floral caftan out around her. “I bet you don’t give your father this runaround.”

Your father only ever called you on your birthday and at Christmas, content to live with his new family in Utah and only drop your name when it could get him something. So technically no, you never gave him the runaround.

“Well, how are you darling?”

“Um,” you bit your lip. Conversations with your mother always felt like a game you didn’t know the rules to. “Fine, I guess.”

She hummed in affirmation. “You’ve been all over the gossip sites.”

You groaned. “You shouldn’t look at those. It’s all bullshit.”

“Well, maybe if my daughter called me occasionally, I wouldn’t have to resort to a google alert to see how she’s doing. People on deux moi are saying you’re rude to your fans. And then there are reports of you fighting in clubs with your boyfriend.”

You shrunk in on yourself. Michelle did her best to keep all that away from you, but you still knew how people talked about you. “I told you. It’s all bullshit,” you mumbled.

“Well, it’s not the sort of reputation you want to have.”

“I know,” you said weakly. 

“Whatever happened to that other boy you were seeing? What was his name? Jimmy? With the snowboard? I liked him”

“Johnny? I haven’t talked to him in, like, a year,” you said. She’d only met him in passing when you’d unexpectedly run into her at a restaurant opening. It’d been right in the middle of the one month you’d dated him.

Your mom scoffed. “Well, who can be expected to keep up, with how quickly you go through them?”    

You clenched your fists where they rested on your thighs. This was just how she was. Feeling hurt by her never did any good. “Why are you here, Mom? Do you need something?”

“I’m here because I am your mother and I want to have a relationship with you, even though you don’t seem to want one with me. But,” she paused and you fought the sinking feeling in your stomach, “now that you mention it, Luka and I are going to France next week and what you’ve given me for the month just isn’t going to cover it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. Of course this was about her allowance. “Mom,” you said, focusing on the part of her request that didn’t have anything to do with your money, “who is Luka?”

Her face went hard. “You would know who he is,” she said, “if you ever listened to me. You’ve always been so self-absorbed, you know that? You never think about anyone else.”

Your hand moved to grip the chair beneath you as you tried to take a deep breath. You were sure she’d never mentioned him before. You would remember. For all she gave you a hard time about dating around, she was just as bad, if not worse. The only difference was that her hookups didn’t get reported on. But you didn’t have the energy for the screaming match this would devolve into if you pointed that out, so you just said, “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten.”

“Sure,” she scoffed. “He’s someone who’s very important to me. And so is this trip.”

“You know I don’t control any of that. You have to go through my accountant.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, frustration bubbling over. “I already called him, obviously. He said you have to sign off on it first. It’s like you all think I enjoy having to come here and ask for money. When it was my hard work that got you all this.”

She loved to do this, bring that up. And you knew that she’d worked hard and sacrificed a lot. You did. She was the one who got you an agent and drove you to auditions and acting coaches and put your team together. But both your parents acted like you were just a doll that they’d placed in front of the cameras and then pulled your string to make you talk. You’d worked hard too and you were just a kid when you did it.

But, again, if you said any of that it would just start a fight and if you’d learned anything on all those sets as a child, it was that fights with your parents were to be avoided at all costs. You would never win. So you just said, “I know, mom. I know everything you’ve done for me. I’ll call him and tell him it’s fine.”

She started to brighten. “Today? You’ll do it today?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it today.”

She patted your knee and smiled warmly at you. You did your best to pretend that it didn’t feel like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “You’re such a dear,” she said. “We’re trying to get everything booked, so time is of the essence! Text me the name of the place you stayed last time you were in Paris. Your pictures were incredible!” She was getting up now, hoisting her bag back up her arm.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, disappointed despite yourself. 

“I’m so busy, honey, So much to do! But let me know as soon as you talk to him. And we’ll have dinner as soon as I get back, you, me and Luka! And you can bring your boy too! I want to try that new sushi place, down on Vine? They’re booked out for months, but I’m sure they’ll have a table for you!” Just as she was getting to the door back into the house, Curtis came out of it. He stepped out in front of her, narrowing his eyes, and pulling himself up to his full height. “Perfect timing,” she muttered, “your guard dog is here.”

“Mom,” you sighed.

She just rolled her eyes at you. “Calm down, it’s fine. He knows I’m joking. Don’t you, Carter?” You grimaced, but Curtis didn’t react.

“Ma’am,” he said, without any inflection at all. You could see her bristle at the address; she hated anything that reminded her that she was old enough to have an adult daughter. But she didn’t say anything else, just gave you one final wave and then moved past him into the house.

You took a deep breath, and then another, wrapping your cover up around yourself as tightly as you could. “Are you ok?” Curtis asked, startling you. He was closer now than you’d realized, standing right beside you. You’d never understand how a man that large could sneak up on you like that, but you were always surprised by the reality of him.

You shook your head and his brow furrowed. You shook it again, “No, I’m fine. I’m fine, it’s just–” you trailed off and shrugged. She always left you so jumbled. “It was fine.”

“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said, sounding deathly serious. “Jensen’s been talked to. He knows better now. It won’t happen again, not without Michelle’s say so.”

You nodded and picked at your sleeve. “Do you think I’m awful?”

“Why would I think that?” he asked, his voice so soft.

You shrugged. “She’s my mom and I make her jump through all these hoops just to see me.”

He nodded slowly and stared out over your pool. “I think,” he started, but then paused for a moment. “I think that you aren’t the kind of person who would just do that for the sake of it. I can’t imagine you ever being that spiteful. If this is something you need, then there’s a reason for it.”

He did that sometimes, made statements about your character that left you reeling, that made you wonder about the person he saw when he looked at you. It always seemed so different from the person you saw in the mirror. 

You looked up at him, but he was still focused somewhere on the horizon. You were struck by how beautiful he was, as the sun shone down on him. His broad form, immaculate stubble, long lashes. You tried to think of him as just the wall of muscles that protected you from the world, but it was getting harder every day to ignore the ineffable Curtis-ness of him. He was so much, too much.

“What’d she want?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Money, like always.”

“You ever think about saying no?”

You shook your head. “She’s not wrong when she says she sacrificed a lot and worked hard to get me here. She did. I wouldn’t be here without her. If this is what she wants from me,” you shrugged, “I feel like I should give it to her.” 

He hummed at that and went quiet again. You looked down, went back to picking at the thread on your sleeve. After several moments, he said, “I think if you looked at all the sacrifices you made to get yourself here, and everything you’ve already done for her, you might see that you come out more even than you expect.” He finally looked back at you and nodded to himself. “I’ll leave you alone now. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

As he walked back into the house, you felt like your skin was too tight. You tried to shake it off and grabbed your phone. It was too quiet. You needed something to distract you. You pulled up Colin’s contact and sent a quick I want to see you text. Then you threw your phone on the lounger, shrugged off your cover-up, and dove head first into the pool.

When Colin showed up a few hours later, he was on you immediately, pulling you out of the pool and back over to the lounge chair where he settle you between his legs. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he breathed into your chest as he laid back, bring you with him. When you resisted, he sat up, pushing his face into your neck and starting to trail kisses along your collar bone.

“Colin, it’s been a weird day,” you said, trying to push him down. Instead of backing off, his lips found your chest, just above your bikini. You tried again to slow him down. “Hey, hold on. Come on. I’m trying to talk to you. My mom stopped by out of the blue.”

Colin finally sat back with an annoyed huff. “Okay?” he said, “And?”

“And, I don’t know, seeing her always makes me feel really off and I just wanted to see you. Wanted you to come over and make me feel better.”

“Isn’t that what I was doing?” he asked with a grin, running his hands down your sides and then up your back, stopping to play with the string tying your bikini together.   

“Colin, I’m being serious! I just, like, want to tell you about my day and have you listen to me. Okay? I just need someone to listen.”

He looked up at you and you leaned back a little at the annoyance in his eyes. “You seriously dragged me all the way out here to talk at me about your mom? I left a studio session early for you.”

“Ok, well, I didn’t know you were busy! You could’ve just said.”

“You’re so hot,” he said, starting to paw at you again. “How could I say no to you?”

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the best way to make you feel better. What good would talking do? What you really needed was to stop thinking. You leaned into him again and he picked up where he left off. “We could go out,” you said. “Get real fucked up.” 

“Mmm,” he said, with his face in your neck and his fist in your hair. “That sounds fun. You gonna promise not to abandon me in an alley this time?”

You pushed back against his shoulders and sat up with a glare. “Don’t be a dick.”

He rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. I’m joking.”

“It isn’t funny. I already apologized. And you never apologized for flirting with that girl.”

“This again? Seriously? I didn’t apologize because I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t flirting, you’re just insecure.”

“Fuck you,” you said, standing up and putting as much distance between you as you could on your deck.

He rolled his eyes at you again and started picking up his stuff. “You’re so fucking high maintenance, you know that? One of these days, I’m going to wake up and decide you aren’t worth it.”

“Yeah?” You sneered, the pit in your stomach that started with your mom’s surprise appearance growing bigger. “Is that going to be before or after you use my instagram account to boost your album sales?”

“Fuck off. You think you’re so important. I don’t need your help.”

You threw your arms in the air. “Then why do you keep demanding it?”

“Whatever. I can’t believe I came all the way out here for this.” He shot you one final glare, before heading back out the way he came. 

You stood at the edge of your pool and looked out over the canyon that expanded beyond your property. “Fuck!” you shouted. It didn’t make you feel any better.

You picked up your phone and started scrolling through your contacts. You didn’t want to be alone right now. You just needed someone to talk to. But everyone in your phone was a ‘going out friend’ or an ‘impromptu house party friend.’ And suddenly, the thought of going out, with the loud music, and flashing lights, and all the paparazzi yelling at you, made you want to crawl out of your skin. You scrolled through your whole contact list again. You didn’t have a single person who you thought might drop everything and come spend the night on your couch with you. You didn’t think you ever had. You felt tears starting to gather in your eyes and quickly wiped them away. This was dumb. You were fine. You could spend one night alone.

You walked back into your house to find Curtis glaring at his phone, leaning against your kitchen island.

“Hey,” you said, trying to get his attention. When he looked up at you, you saw him take all of you in. Your wet hair, bikini, tense shoulders, and your eyes, which you could feel were still damp. He straightened up, looking very concerned. “Um,” you looked down, feeling like you needed to avoid his gaze, “I’m not going out again today, so you’re free to go. You and Jensen.”

“Ok,” he said. 

You looked back up to find him still looking at you carefully. When he finally started to move, you panicked and added, “Or, um, I’m probably just going to order a ton of food and just, like, watch TV, so if you wanted to, you could, um, you could stay. And, like, just hang out.” What the fuck did you just do? You were so pathetic. Why would you do that? What was wrong wit–

“Yeah, sure, I can stay.”

“Oh!” You didn’t know how to keep the shock off of your face. Or the intense relief. You started to feel yourself calm, just a little bit, for the first time all day. “Ok, great. I’ll just order the food – Thai ok?” He nodded. “And then take a shower and change. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I’ll let Jensen know that he’s good to head home.”

You just nodded and went upstairs.

After a long shower, you dressed in your comfiest pair of sweats and a large old t-shirt, clothes that usually stayed buried at the bottom of your drawer. You went down to your living room to find Curtis unpacking the bags of food onto your coffee table, the TV softly playing at a low volume.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

He looked up at you and nodded. “I grabbed a couple beers too, that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing one and pressing yourself into the corner of your large sectional.

“You want a little of everything?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he started making you a plate.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He handed you a plate piled high and a fork, then started serving himself. “You doing ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shrugged, “just a shitty day.”

He sat down a few spaces away from you. “Colin wasn’t here very long,” he said with a practiced casualness. 

“No,” you frowned, “he wasn’t.”

“Can I ask you a question that’s none of my business?”

You looked at him warily, “Sure.”

“Why on earth are you with him?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Uh,” you stopped to think, “the sex is pretty good.” He’d known where your clit was, which was more than you could say for a lot of your exes. “He can be fun to go out with. And we look good together. I don’t know, he gets it, which not a lot of people do.”

Curtis looked at you confused, “Gets what?”

“The whole thing. Just, what it means to be with me. Like, that I’m going to get recognized when we go out, and there’s always going to be paparazzi around, and sometimes I’m going to have to be on location for months at a time. It’s just there’s all this stuff around me. Being with me, it’s asking a lot, you know? But he gets recognized too, sometimes, and he doesn’t mind getting his picture taken and he goes on tour and stuff. He’s more willing to put up with it all.”

His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be something to be ‘put up with’”

You shook your head and waved his comment away. “You know what I mean. Anyway, moot point, probably. I think I’m done. He wasn’t very nice to me today and I’m just kind of over it.”

“Probably just as well. His band is terrible.”

You let out a big, loud laugh at that, head thrown back, as you felt some of the stress of the day slide off of you. When you glanced at Curtis, he was watching you, pleased. Proud of himself. It sparked a little blossom of warmth in your heart, and you ducked your head. 

After a few moments of comfortable quiet, he cleared his throat. “For the record, anyone who makes you feel like it’s hard to be with you probably isn’t worth being with.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You could feel him watching you but you were suddenly too afraid to look at him. After too long a pause, you said, “Well, you just described all of my exes, so…” with a weak little chuckle. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel your feeble attempt at a joke fall flat. You focused intently on your plate and shoved some food in your mouth for want of anything else to do. After a few minutes, you tried to change the subject. “I feel like now I should get to ask you something that’s none of my business.”

“Yeah? What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” you said, looking back at him. He leaned back into the couch, plate balanced on one thigh, a beer in his hand. It was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. “I don’t really know anything about you.” You studied him carefully, feeling like this was your one chance at something, you weren’t sure what. “What were you like as a kid?” you asked without thinking, and then immediately regretted it. What an embarrassing question.

He didn’t laugh or roll his eyes at you, though. He just took a drink of his beer and then said, “Angry. I was really angry all the time.” You didn’t say anything, waiting to see if he’d volunteer more information or change the subject. He took another drink, then added, “I grew up in a few different foster homes and I was just mad, at everything. An angry little thing. Finally, when I was a teenager, I crossed paths with someone who gave a shit. Helped me figure out how to channel it, move past it.”

You sat for a moment, deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing. You didn’t want him to think you felt sorry for him, pitied him. You didn’t. But it felt glib to say you admired him for it or that he must have been so strong. You settled on “Thank you for telling me.”

He nodded and took a bite of his food. Once he swallowed, he asked “What about you? What kind of kid were you?”

You blanched slightly. You normally hated talking about your childhood, but in this moment it felt like it might be ok, like you didn’t have to sugarcoat it. Like you wouldn’t get in trouble for being honest. “I was really lonely. Um, I was never really in school? Or, I guess I was for the first couple years, but my parents were constantly pulling me out for auditions and commercials and stuff. And then when I was 9, I booked the show, and so from then on it was all studio tutors. And there were never really any other kids on the set. So, I don’t know, I was just by myself a lot of the time. Or with my parents.” You grimaced. “Even now, I feel like if I’m not working, I don’t really know how to interact with people. Never really learned how.” 

“You’re doing fine right now,” he said, voice so gentle it made you squirm a little bit.

“You don’t count.” He raised an eyebrow at you and you shrugged. “I’ve always been comfortable with you.” You weren’t sure why that felt so much like a confession, but when you met his eyes and saw how serious they were, you knew he felt it too. You took a sip of your beer. “My turn.”

“Your turn?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, “it’s a game now.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled and gestured for you to go ahead. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t date much.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “I have other stuff going on right now. And my work hours can be kind of weird and unpredictable.” He must have seen the way your face started to fall, because he rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and said. “This isn’t your fault. I just have other priorities right now. I’m sure that if there was something I was looking for, I’d be able to find it.”

“Yeah, you definitely would,” you said with a laugh. He looked at you somewhat quizzically and it was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Oh, come on! I know you know how hot you are.”

He cleared his throat and let out a small chuckle. “Uh,” he said, as he rubbed the back of his head and you noticed that his ears were turning red. He was uncomfortable. You had made your big, scary bodyguard bashful. It immediately filled you with so much glee. “That’s maybe been mentioned to me, once or twice,” he finally choked out. Just as you started cackling, he cut in, “Ok, me now. When was the last time you took a break?”

You looked around with a slightly furrowed brow. “You mean, like, other than right now?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean, I’ve been with you almost two years now and you’ve worked nonstop pretty much the entire time. When was the last time you took a real, sustained break?”

“Oh, um,” you had to stop and actually think about that. Everything had always been go go go, ever since you were a kid. And even once you were an adult, everytime you thought about slowing down, there was always something to capitalize on, an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored. “Oh! The summer I was, I think, 12? Maybe 13? I didn’t book anything for hiatus and my parents were so mad. But I just got to hang out all summer. It was amazing. There was this girl my age who lived down the street. And we would just like, hang out in her backyard, or go to the pool, walk to get ice cream. Whatever we wanted to do. I was so excited to have a real friend. It was the best summer I ever had.”

“Did you keep in touch?” he asked softly, startling you when his fingers brushed against yours.

“No, the next season was when they started to really beef up my role, which meant I got paid more, so we moved. I never saw her again. Which was fine. It was really fun while it lasted.”

When you made eye contact with Curtis, there was a touch of sadness there that you couldn’t stand to look at, so you went back to your food. You were fine. Look at everything you had! You were good. You had no reason to be sad.

“You should think about taking a year off,” he said quietly.

You looked back up at him and scoffed, “A year?!”

“You just told me you haven’t had a real break in 13 years. I think a year is reasonable. I know you’re doing fine financially. You should think about it.”

“Maybe,” you said, but you were sure that no one involved in your career would let that happen. You couldn’t even imagine it. “Okay, my question. What do you do when you aren’t looking after me?”  

“Aside from sleep?” he asked, laughing at himself. You were instantly mesmerized by the sound. You didn’t think you’d ever heard it before. Dry chuckles, yes, but an actual laugh? You felt instantly addicted to it. “Uh, I go to the gym most days. I like to read, whenever I have the time. I’ve kind of been teaching myself how to cook, here and there. I don’t know, I’m not that interesting.”

You begged to differ, but saying that felt like too much. Like it would reveal more than you even realized. You were done eating now, so you put your plate on the coffee table and shifted to get more comfortable, bringing your legs up under the rest of you. As you did, your knees brushed against Curtis’s thighs. You stopped, surprised, and looked at where your bodies touched. Without realizing it, at some point during the conversation, you’d both eliminated the space between you. Wanting to see how far you could push it, while ignoring just how much you wanted the physical contact, you adjusted yourself again, so that now your thigh pushed against his. You watched for his reaction very carefully, while trying to look like that was the last thing you were doing. Something fluttered inside of you when he pressed imperceptibly closer. “It’s your turn,” you whispered. 

He turned so that he could look at you fully and just watched you for a moment. You could almost see him thinking, trying to find the perfect question. Finally, “What would you do if you weren’t acting?”

You felt your brain short out for a second. “Like, instead?” You asked dumbly. He nodded. “Um, I have no idea? This is all I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’m really good at anything else.”

“I highly doubt that,” he said and you were thrown off by how sure he sounded. You weren’t sure anyone had ever sounded so confident about you before, especially when it was so unfounded.  

“Well, it’s true,” you said and wincing internally at how harsh it sounded. “I don’t know. I don’t like that question.” Your skin was too tight again and you felt so, so small. He was seeing all of you now, how little there was, and had surely found you wanting. 

“Ok, that’s fine,” he said quietly, like he was talking to a spooked horse. Something about it made you want to flip over the coffee table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to– I’m sorry.” You just nodded and folded in on yourself. “We can stop playing.”  

“No,” you said. “I still have one question left.” There was really only one you wanted an answer to. “Why did you stay tonight?” 

He didn’t stop to think before he answered. “Because you seemed like you needed me to.”

“That’s not part of your job,” you said, feeling defiant without really knowing why. 

“No, it’s not.”

You didn’t know what to do with him. This wasn’t how people treated you. You were either something to be vaunted or something they could use. Your parents, your friends, the people who worked for you, the people you dated. They all wanted to get something out of you. Curtis never seemed to want anything from you. But he didn’t put you on a pedestal either. He had always treated you like just a person. It was unnerving. What were you supposed to do with that?

You turned back to the TV, finally registering what was on. It was some reality show you’d never seen before. “I have no idea what this is,” you said.

“Me neither.”

Whatever comfortable calm that had existed between the two of you on this couch, it was gone now. You curled up, placing your chin on your knees. “I’m probably going to fall asleep.” You were exhausted, not just today, but in your bones.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked. 

All you could do was shake your head and let out a small, whispered, “No.” As all over the place as you felt, you knew you weren’t ready to be alone yet, weren’t ready for him to leave.

“Ok,” he said, softly, as you felt his arm moving behind you to rest on the back of the couch. “I’ll stay.”

Part Three

[familyvideostevie]

hey.

okay. hello! i'm back. :)

maybe you noticed, maybe not, but i have been away for a while.

i wish i could say i've been out living my life, so caught up in happiness and joy and loving each day that i've just not had time for tumblr. but....that is not true. i have been having a tough time! being away has been good, as i've had time to do other things that i like and to put energy into my own well-being, but it hasn't been the best time, I'll tell you that.

i peeked on the dash every now and then to keep my queue full and reblogged soothing things to my main blog and tried my best not to feel guilty about it all (i was also booping on April 1 lol). i just...I really needed a break. i've really enjoyed being here the last six or so months as i've changed my blog and entered the pedro/tlou space but i've also felt so, so alone.

and i know that it doesn't really matter!! like, we should all take breaks and go outside and all that stuff. and I know plenty of people are not very active, but this blog has been such a vital part of my life and happiness since I started it almost two years ago, so any lapse in activity feels like a loss. I've met lifelong friends and flexed my writing muscles and learned a hell of a lot. the fact that I have started to feel isolated and alone on here is a sort of personal betrayal, and there is no one to blame but myself.

So, I’m pulling back.

it means a few things — i don’t know how much writing I’ll be doing from now on. For Joel, especially — it’s been wonderful to meet folks in that community but it has also been really detrimental to my passion for both the game and writing. I’d like to return to some other characters on my masterlist, but we’ll see. I’ve got endless personal projects away from tumblr that I want to pour love and time into (my non-reader fics, my newsletter, a romance novel, a sci-fi novel, poetry, etc). I need to fall in love with my own work again.

it's a me problem, I want to stress that. i'm working on it! irl stuff has been kicking my ass. I've had a really, really hard winter and my mental health has suffered probably more than ever before. i let things I love -- like this blog -- fester and become negative and no longer being me joy. writing became stressful and difficult and I was focused on notes and interaction and looking around me and seeing success and then looking at myself and only seeing lack.

but that's why I took a break! i am getting help and support irl, i am putting in the time and effort to feel better about being alive and to be a better friend and person all around. And I want to tell you all about it because I am so grateful for your time and attention and support, even if we’re just strangers on the internet. i know this probably seems silly -- who cares about a fanfic blog? well, i care! i care a lot! it matters to me and therefore it matters!

anyway. on to the important stuff. here I am! and here's what's going to happen on this blog:

I am working on replying to asks and reblogs and comments I missed. Thank you for being patient with me! I don't know if I'll get to them all but know I see them and I am honored every single time.

I made a totally separate ao3 account with this blog url. I'm working on uploading everything I've posted here onto there and hopefully will continue to crosspost. It is going to take a long, long time, so please be patient! (you can follow my other ao3 here for my non x-reader fanfic).

I posted this fic! Jackson!Joel pulled me back into his world. It’s the first thing I’ve written in ages, so let me know what you think. as of now it's the last planned fic for that series, but who knows!

I hit a milestone while i was away that I am absolutely blown away by. I'm planning a celebration around it sometime this spring (hopefully) and I’d love to see you participate :)

lastly, thank you so much to my friends for letting me complain, whine, winge, etc. I am so sorry for missing all of your work, your celebrations, your bright energies, and all the rest. i am so sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. you are my guiding lights, my silver linings, my touchstones. you make me want to be here. i will try to make it up to you!

I want to be online less but make sure I’m connecting more in the moments that i am here. I want to pressure myself to write less and not feel bad that I’m not engaged all the time. I want this blog to once again feel like a place that nourishes me and not sucks me dry. i want to stop feeling like shit about all of it!!!!

so. come hang out in my inbox, my dms, let me know what you've been up to. I am really sorry for missing so much. thank you for sticking around. <3

[simpcityy]

Home is Where the Heart is Pt.1 (Rolan X Tiefling! Female! Reader)

Summary: After being exiled from Elturel, losing your mother and much more, you've been feeling overwhelmed and having no place to call home until your friendship with a certain Tiefling Wizard starts to bloom. Slow burn romance series.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), use of female pronouns, She/Her, violence, SPOILERS FOR ACT ONE IN THE GROVE!!! Child violence-ish uhhh....I think that is all, let me know if I missed something.

Authors Note: The Poll has spoken! It was a battle, Astarion would reach up to Rolan only for Rolan to get more votes and get ahead of the game but Rolan has won! I hope you enjoy it, this will be a slow burn romance. Chapter 1 and up to 4 will be boring and slow but once we reach the Shadow Lands, the action and feelings will start! Please leave a like and Reblog if you enjoyed it! I am always happy to start a taglist since I have two series out now. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE 573 followers! Simp City population is growing!

All you remember is the chaos happening  in Elturel. The terrible event that every Tiefling remembers painfully, The Fall of Elturel. The exile of the  Elturel tieflings population, your mother sadly was caught up in the chaos. All you remember was holding her hand tightly, guiding other tieflings leaving Elturel meanwhile your father stayed behind to make sure no one was left behind and suddenly she was gone.  You don’t understand why the tieflings were being blamed, this was all unfair to you and everyone around you. After escaping, the first night was dreadful. Making a small camp in the middle of nowhere, exposed to danger. Everyone was scared, not able to have a wink of sleep. Walking to one of the campfires, you sat down looking at the fire dance. Rolan, who's been watching you from a distance, wonders how you are feeling, you just witnessed your mother's death. Zevlor was too busy with looking after the group, making sure you stay alive and dealing with the death of his wife all in one. Rolan slowly walks over as Cal and Lia usher him to check on you. You two were good friends, well Cal and Lia know more as Rolan confides in Cal meanwhile you confide in Lia. Being siblings, they share information with each other. 

    Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you look up seeing a worried Rolan. “How are you holding…” He asked slowly, sitting next to you, but kept his distance, not knowing what to do. You sigh and watch the fire burning the food slowly, “I don’t know…I…you can say I’m in shock…I…refuse to believe she’s gone…” You whispered. “ I want to wake up and see that all this is a nightmare that I will wake up to.” You shake your head. Rolan frowns a bit, noticing how your brows crease from how overwhelmed you are. “I hate to be that kind of person but…it happened…we all lost everything…our home…trust of others…our…family and peers that didn’t make it…” He slowly rubs your back gaining the confidence to comfort you. “Don’t remind me.” You whisper getting up wanting to be alone. Rolan only watches as you walk away and into the arms of your father as he finally has time to settle down and grieve with you. 

That was months ago, you found a temporary place in the Grove with some kind druids but once again it all came crashing down. Since Halsin has been missing, Kagha decided to let your father know they have to leave before the rite of thorns is completed. “This is unfair!” You retort to your father inside the cave once the door was shut behind from prying ears. “Halsin said we were welcomed, don’t you find it odd that he was captured? An Archdruid?” You sigh, sitting on the wooden stool. Zevlor only looks at you, “ I know…but for the safety of our people…we have to move out and push to Baldur’s Gate. I know this brings memories…of your mother.” He began to hold your hand. “But we need to stay strong and bring them to safety…they look up to us to protect them.” He kisses your forehead. “You…they look up to you.” Looking away, you push your hair away from your face, careful of your horns. “I’m sorry…I’m just stressing you out more.” You felt bad, here you are complaining to him when you know he has all these responsibilities. “I’ll let you be and hey dad” Standing up, you walk over to the stone door, “You can always lean on me, don’t overwhelm yourself. “ You smile walking out. 

“There you are” Lia walks over as you walk out. “I was looking all over for you. Come, you have to help me.” She links her arm around yours and pulls you forward. “Woah, slow down, help with what. Lia, what trouble did you get yourself into.” You already started to scold her. “I did nothing but Rolan wants to leave and it’s all because of his stupid apprenticeship.”  She groans. You stopped listening when she said the word leave. “He wants to leave….” You asked her before noticing you stopped in front of Cal and Rolan. “Great! Stop dragging her in our arguments.” Rolan sighs, scolding his siblings. “You want to leave? Leave us behind?” You look at him. “I….why?” He looks away, not able to face you. “I…before you begin, it’s not about my apprenticeship…as I tell these two, I want to protect them and with the goblins attacking once in a while and the druids throwing us out soon. This place isn’t safe.” He concluded but you weren’t having it. “So screw the rest of us?” Your tail behind was swinging a bit from holding back your anger. “You are just going to leave us behind when we need all of us to fight back in case these goblins come through the gate.” You frown “ Just ...forget it…do whatever you think is right.” You raise your arms up, get fed up with everything and walk away.  Cal elbows Rolan “Nice going, you are just pushing her away.” He sighs as Rolan looks away “Quiet!” He yells before looking over to see someone walk over to them. 

You walked around the cave, going to each tiefling making sure they are okay. Checking to make sure Mol isn’t up to her daily mischief. “(Y/N)!” Someone yells. Turning around you see Komira running to you. “What's wrong?” You walk over seeing the panicked look on her face. “It’s Arabella! Those druids took her!” You walk over where the rest of the tieflings were, with the druids blocking the entrance of their sacred pool. “What is the meaning of this! Where is she!?” You gently push your group to the side to pass through, others move over to let you handle this. “Kagha, where is she? It's time we talk.” You frowned. Standing near the shapeshifted bear. “Stay back, she’s under our care for stealing '' One of the druids walked up to you. “I will repeat myself. Where is Kagha?” You look up at them, Arabella’s parents right behind you. A gnome druid walks over whispering to the other druid in their ears. “Seems like you’re needed, just don’t do anything stupid.” He mutters, letting you through. “Stay here, I will make sure she’s okay.” You turn around to Komira and her husband before walking over to the stone door. “What is the meaning of this Kagha?” You descend down the stairs, tail swishing around furiously. Rath walks over “ Please (Y/N), let's not escalate this more than we should.” He begs. You stood up in front of Kagha “Let her go, she’s just a little girl.” You glance at Arabella seeing her stay still as the viper hisses near the poor girl. “Girl? You mean parasite.” She frowns. “Watch it.” You go to walk up to her but Rath gently places a hand on your shoulder stopping you. The stone door opens. You turn around seeing 4 unfamiliar faces, did your father let them pass? You look as one of them was a tiefling but they weren’t from your group. 

After a couple of minutes, you held Arabella's hand as this odd group was able to convince Kagha to let her go. “Next time, no stealing got it. I doubt Kagha will be forgiving if you pull another stunt.” You let her go as she ran to her worried parents. “Thank you (Y/N)!” Locke smiles as you shake your head, “No thank those that walked in after me…speaking of that I need to have a word with my father. Remember what I said Arabella.” You look at her as she looks away “ I remember, thank you.” Walking off, you look around for your father and spot Rolan with Cal and Lia. “ I thought you were leaving” You mutter. “Well, can’t I change my mind?” He sighs “ I’m sorry…it was unfair of me to even think of leaving during the most critical time.” You smile hearing his small apology. “ It’s fine, what made you change your mind?” You go to stand closer to him only to stop hearing his response. “Another Tiefling came, they saved us from another horde of goblins, they made a very compelling point.” He began not seeing Cal and Lia shake their heads behind you telling him to stop.”Oh…that newcomer…that's good to know…” You look away “Excuse me…I have to have a word with my father.” You walked away feeling jealousy and insecurities flowing through you. “I thought she would be happy?” Rolan groans “Women are so complicated” He sighs Lia sighs “ No, just men are idiots.” She rubs her face groaning “ But you brother, are a much bigger idiot.” 

[mistwhisperexpress]

I'm not Jewish myself but I do belong to a couple of minority demographics that receive denigration for one reason or another, along with people trying to speak for me.

My only real advice is that there comes a point where it's no longer "defending the oppressed" and more infantilization. There is such a thing as being too sensitive. This is a kid's game, not propaganda meant to encourage hatred. Same as any other demographic, Jewish people can speak on their own behalf. They don't need others' help, they only need a listening ear. To do anything else is risking spoiling the fun for everyone including those you're trying to speak for.

Also "goblin" as far as I've seen is as much an umbrella term as anything else. Jewish people don't hold a cultural copyright on financial greed and hooked noses. (may I direct you to dragons and stereotypical witches respectively) I could probably name a dozen other fairy tale and mythological creatures that have such traits.

Suggesting that SSO's new little green goblin (Grinch? Norman Osborn?) is a caricature of Jewish people makes as much sense as saying the orcs in Tolkien's legendarium represent black people or that the white walkers from ASOIAF represent white people, aka little to no sense once you look past the surface. The comparison of Jewish people and goblins alone could be deemed borderline antisemitic in itself. It's misguided, but forgivable.

Worry more about enjoying the game and less about whether SSO is offending a group who are more than capable of defending themselves in a kid's game. ❤️

Okay I don’t blame you for assuming I’m not Jewish because apparently I haven’t mentioned that here yet even though I (mis)remembered I had, but this still feels really weird to send? Telling someone who’s not part of a minority to not speak for them is absolutely okay, the job of people outside a minority is to raise up their voices, not add their own, so I have no issue with that aspect and I am genuinely sorry that’s been done to you, but why are you, someone who by your own words isn’t Jewish, speaking on if goblins antisemitic or not at all? You are speaking for/over us there, and you would be even if I wasn’t Jewish.

I am Jewish, and obviously while we aren’t a monolith, no group of people is, I personally find this depiction of goblins (green and greedy/thief) antisemitic, and with much of the world going mask off with their antisemitism right now I’m not as open to giving benefits of the doubt as I used to be. I do believe this was a mistake on SSO’s part and not intentional as I said in a reblog, but that doesn’t make it any less harmful or antisemitic.

I have done quite a bit of research into the history of goblins and when they began to be used as an antisemitic caricature (as early as the 1800s thanks to the Goblin Market poem, which is just classic blood libel) because I make dice as a job and I want to enjoy D&D without antisemitism and the whole dice goblin thing, and there is a very large connection. This isn't unfounded.

You’re right in that goblins are a bit of an umbrella term, they are, which is why it’s important to let the antisemitic version of them die. You can have goblins that are just mischievous, not green, big nosed, greedy, sneaky, and untrustworthy. It’s really easy to not have antisemitic goblins, but unfortunately the antisemitic version is a mainstream staple and that doesn’t just go away overnight.

If you apply harmful stereotypes to anything, even if it was completely harmless before, you’re going to get a harmful caricature. That’s what happened to goblins, and that’s what SSO did with the Snow Goblins. They took the popular depiction which is the antisemitic version, and applied it to the game without a thought because it’s been normalized to the point most people don’t even consider it may have less than great origins. Like Rapunzel and Hansel and Gretel. They’re so normal the vast majority of people don’t even realize they were created for antisemitic reasons. Antisemitism is sneakily within a lot of things. You don’t start recognizing it until you become familiar with the tropes and stereotypes.

I’m also going to bet if they’re European in origin, the “dozen other fairy tale and mythological creatures that have such traits” you could name also had that done to them if they weren’t antisemitic to begin with. And since you mentioned them, it’s also what was done to the stereotypical version of witches, which is antisemitic and has a very long history of such going back to accused women who were burned being forced to wear Jewish clothing of the time as further humiliation. It’s also where the classic pointy hat comes from, since a pointy cone hat was what we were forced to wear to signify we were Jewish. Witches actually share a lot with goblins in antisemitic traits and SSO also needs to address Pi hitting all but the green skin.

You clearly know a little about the issue, as you brought up The Nose when I didn't, but you also don't know nearly enough to speak about this at all as evidenced by you not knowing the antisemitic history regarding witches, so please don't. And I never said they were a Jewish caricature, I said they were antisemitic, there's a difference. A Jewish caricature is the happy merchant meme.

What we're also not going to do is the whole 'you're the antisemitic one for seeing Jewish people in goblins' thing. That has and always will be an utterly bullshit dismissive argument. The whole point of this kind of caricature is to normalize the stereotypes so when they're actually applied to people you don't blink an eye, like how very few goyim blinked an eye at Mother Gothel in Tangled. I'm currently sick so I really don't have all the smart brain power to go into that right now and I hope someone else can. It's not antisemitic to notice when antisemitic caricatures have been applied to something. That's a very good thing to notice actually, and I want more goyim to start noticing that.

So it does actually make more sense than someone saying those things (which I don't think I've ever seen someone argue??), which I'll get into under the cut to clear up any confusion about how SSO's Snow Goblins tie into the antisemitic depictions, since a couple people were confused in my initial post.

And I am worrying more about enjoying the game; that's the whole reason I brought this up, because I'd like to enjoy a game that's been with me for more than half my life and means a lot to me, and this is preventing me from fully doing that.

Again, I am genuinely sorry people have spoken over and for you. That is wrong and not at all okay. And I'm sorry if I misread the tone of your ask.

Okay !! Education with Mandy time. This has been a long post but I hope you'll all stick with me for just a little longer.

And real quick before we get into the specifics, I want to mention that Christmas time is one of the times where you want to be especially careful about things like this, given the history present with characters like Scrooge.

So for those who don't know what the Snow Goblin is, this is the creature in question:

The typical antisemitic goblin is green, greedy, big nosed, and some flavor or sneaky and untrustworthy.

The Snow Goblin quite obviously hits on the green. If this creature looked like a normal capran and was named something like Snow Imp or Mischievous Capran, there would be no issue. Because bastardy little guys stealing things on it's own isn't an antisemitic stereotype. It's when there's multiple things that are the problem, like green skin, or in this case fur, and calling them something with a very large history of antisemitism when combined with those very traits.

The whole schtick of this little guy is they steal your snowflakes if you don't catch them in time, so it also hits on the greedy and untrustworthy tropes. If the Snow Goblin looked like a normal capran but was still called a goblin, there would still be an issue because the antisemitic goblin isn't just green, it's also bastard of greedy kinds, like a thief not out of necessity but of pleasure. "Thief" isn't directly an antisemitic stereotype, but it's very much there as an undercurrent. The "Jewish people are unfairly taking my money!" implication from The Middle Ages when the stereotype began, when money lender was pretty much the only job we were allowed to have.

If the Snow Goblin was called something else but was still green, I wouldn't say its directly antisemitic, but I would side eye it and not feel comfortable. It's kinda like the Grinch, ignoring the fact Dr. Seuss may or may not have been Jewish depending on who you ask because there's conflicting information. It's not directly anything bad, but I'm going to be a little wary of the intention and engage with it extra carefully.

Its about the combination.

I can't tell you exactly when the mainstream antisemitic goblin came together, because I don't know and it's really hard to find information on that, but it's there, and you can't deny that. I don't necessarily blame SSO for contributing to it's perpetuation, because you don't think to look deeper into something when you have no reason to think it's harmful, but I do hope they change it. And hire some Jewish sensitivity readers because this wouldn't have happened with more Jewish people around to catch it, and with witches being a focus of the story now I am admittedly a little nervous about how that'll be handled.

Also, this is all unintentionally made worse by use of the capran model, because it also gets to hit on the whole fun we're in league with the devil thing and the Jewish people have horns thing. I don't know when exactly those started either (drawings of us with "devil features" have been around a long time), but I know the we have horns one was popularized when Michelangelo decided to give his sculpture of Moses horns, because that's what we look like apparently. There are still people who genuinely believe we have horns. I feel robbed. Horns a super cool, I want horns. Where are my horns?

And before someone says it, yes this is a lot of words for something low stakes in a kids game. There are a lot of more important things right now. But that's exactly why it's mattering to me right now. I don't want to be silent about antisemitism while it's on the rise, but I don't know enough about the current aspects of that to speak on it. I do however know a lot about how it applies to fantasy, and I have had about three work in progress essays about the goblin issue to prepare for this.

And also before someone says it, Snow Gremlin isn't exactly an acceptable new name either. It's basically Snow Goblin 2.0. Gremlins aren't goblins (though they have become a bit synonymous and interchangeable), but they were popularized by the massive and proud antisemite Roald Dahl, and I have a hard time believing he didn't put any of those beliefs into them.

[lovelybrooke]

I have this idea for a yandere genshin au. It revolves around the reader being able to travel from our world to Teyvat. Not only that, but they can travel to Teyvat at multiple different points in history. At first, they can only travel through dreams, until eventually they are able to transport themselves at will. However, the most they do so, the more they start to loose touch with reality, and are unable to tell what’s real and fake. For the sake of making sense, Genshin isn’t a video game, but more so like another dimension or reality. (Longer explanation below the cut).

You, the reader, have been having these dreams were you see the memories of Aether and Lumine before the events of the main story. Slowly these dreams become more like memories, almost like they were real. You try and talk about it with people you trust, but they chalk it up to and overactive imagination.

In one of these dreams, you are able to talk to them, where they explain the adventures they have gone on. You’re fascinated, asking to come along, which they happily oblige too. Together you go on wonderful adventures, until you wake up. You wonder how your brain was able to come up with something so strange and you don’t have dreams involving the two again for awhile, or so it seems.

You know how when you’re sleeping, you feel as though your aren’t dreaming even though you are? That’s essentially what happens. You meet up with Aether and Lumine multiple different times without even knowing it. During these moments, their obsession with you grows, becoming insanely over protective of you, both of them attempting to find a way to get you to stay with them, forever.

Unbeknownst to the twins, your were also experiencing dreams of Teyvat throughout its history. Some dreams you were consciously aware of, while others you weren’t. These forgotten dreams result in you having what you believe to be false memories, while in reality they are memories of your time in Tevyat, severely repressed due to the intense strain they put on your mind. These memories include meeting the Archons and traveling old Teyvat with them. The Archons, of course, become obsessed with you, fascinated by this strange person with and even stranger power.

Whenever you were consciously dreaming, it seemed as though the people you were meeting were changing, becoming more and more strange. They would sometimes even mention things that you couldn’t even remember, them brushing it off with a laugh. At this point, you were still convinced this was all a product of your imagination and not real, so you don’t really question it.

Slowly, your dreams start to become more intense. You start sleepwalking, falling asleep in your bed and waking up in random places. You start to sleep for days on end, your body incredibly sore when you wake up. You even start hallucinating, seeing and hearing things that shouldn’t be there. You blame it on the dreams and attempt to have them less, but whenever you do, your mind becomes hazy and you start hearing voices and the hallucinations become worse.

The worst was when you woke up one day, stepping out your front door to go to work, only to be greeted by Mondstadt. You were confused, disoriented, and afraid. That was until a man you never met but felt so familiar came up to you, carefully cupped his hand around your cheek, and told you it was time to wake up. When you did, you were at you desk at work, a small pile of drool covering your papers.

After that, you attempt to remember your dreams better, writing everything down so you can figure out what’s happening to you. While your in your world doing that, your friends in Tevyat are trying to figure out how your able to travel through dreams, and how they can use that to keep you with them.

A/n: If you liked this idea and want to see more, please consider commenting, liking, and rebloging, it really motivates me to continue writing. If you want to talk about genshin, feel free to comment or send me an ask. I’ll also probably delete this if you guys don’t seem interested.

[laurfilijames]

"I'm gonna say something. Are you listening?"- Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Triple Frontier

Good. Thanks Frankie.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

About fandom in general, interactions or lack thereof, how something you can feel so happy and passionate about can make you sad at the same time.

The idea of no longer sharing my fics has also been something that's crossed my mind on numerous occasions, but at the end of the day I WANT to share them. I am proud of them and I figure if they make me this happy, I hope they can make someone else happy too.

I continue to trek on, trying to compartmentalize my feelings and press on, creating fics I think others will enjoy as well, and praising the gorgeous man who plays gorgeous characters whose stories I love to change or extend.

Recently, I've felt guilt. Guilt that I haven't been creating and posting enough things for you to indulge in. And then I remember that in the last 4 weeks, I wrote and posted 3 fics.

3 fics where a majority of the reblogs are my own, and most of the notes are likes.

I'm feeling this way because of the lack of interaction. I'm not blaming or pointing fingers or trying to extend any guilt to any of you (and thank you endlessly to those who do reblog and comment and send messages and have conversations about them 💗) But I can safely say that this is a widespread issue across all fandoms alike.

It's disheartening. People leave and give up and have their creativity crushed to the point they no longer participate or share their wonderful art.

I came across a post that I reblogged yesterday that added another level onto all of this.

Artists and writers having to "market" and promote their work in hopes it'll help drum up excitement for what they have coming up.

As if taking the time and energy to create that fic of piece of art isn't enough, now we have to work like a full marketing team in hopes we will get a few more reblogs or comments.

I have seldom participated in tag games where you share snippets of WIPs etc because more often than not, the response to them are *crickets*. It's embarrassing and gives off that "no one is interested so why bother sharing it" vibe.

We shouldn't have to work that hard to get feedback on the things we share.

I know, and respect, that some people experience comment anxiety, but I promise you that if you're able to, whether it be a string of emojis or keysmashes or even a gif, you will be making a difference.

This happened to me yesterday.

Right when I felt like it's all fruitless, someone swooped in with a comment that gave me hope and reminded me why I do it. And it was on my least popular (and personal favourite) series to boot.

Because of this simple act of communication, my hope and motivation has been restored.

Now I know I'm going to get people saying "you should write for yourself" (I do) and I shouldn't rely on others to keep me motivated (I don't, I have Charlie Hunnam for that) but it's such a key component to all of this and I think most creators can agree to that.

So please, for the love of fandom and the things you love (the actors, the characters, the shows or films) PLEASE INTERACT WITH THE ARTISTS AND WRITERS WHO CREATE INCREDIBLE ART AND FICS FOR THEM.

You may not realize what an effect you have, but I promise you, you do, and it may even help save your favourite artist from abandoning it all.

[oscconfessions]

I feel bad for bringing up Taco again on this blog but I'm sorry I just get so heated over this it's not even funny. You guys can jump me I'm the reblogs all you want I do not care you won't change my mind

Can we STOP acting like Microphone isn't a grown ass women fully capable of making her own decisions?? Taco made her intentions VERY up front from the beginning. She told microphone that the only reason they were teaming up was for the money, microphone KNEW who Taco was prior to their alliance and still agreed to start the illegal alliance with her despite knowing what kind of person Taco was (on the surface)

When Taco asked Microphone to paralize balloon, Mic said no. Taco was pissy about it sure but she didn't MAKE Mic do it?? She let Mic do her own thing. Mic CHOSE to get into Balloons head and manipulate her team into getting Balloon voted off. And when she did Taco wasn't made she didn't paralize him, she was proud of her for finding a way to play the game without doing anything violent. Microphone didn't HAVE to do any of that, Taco wasn't holding her at gun point to hurt balloon.

I feel like all of you guys just gloss over the fact that Taco is clearly more than just a manipulative asshole and even Microphone herself knew that. Taco doesn't like being vulnerable, that much is obvious. When she reaches for the portal she says "another chance perhaps" obviously she wants another chance to fix her mistakes and fix her relationship with all her old friends, if it was for the money she wouldn't have gotten so defensive when Microphone asked her about it. When Knife brings up her old alliance with Pickle she gets all defensive and tried to shut him up. Clearly she regrets what she did and doesn't want to talk about it. "ERM ACTUALLY SHE DID THAT BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T WANT MIC TO KNOW SHE WAS MANIPULATING HER 🤓🤓" MIC ALREADY KNEW ABOUT IT SINCE CLEARLY SHE WATCHED SEASON ONE HOW ELSE WOULD SHE KNOW WHO TACO IS?? Stop acting like Mic was so helpless and couldn't make her own choices when she clearly could. Microphone KNEW Taco was hiding something ad she tried to get it out of her but she couldn't. Please stop acting like microphone had no idea Taco was a bad person and that Taco was a manipulator when she did. There was no manipulation going on and till MAYBE the very end.

Yes Taco made a stupid decision in episode 14, she should not have shot both Fan and Test Tube and made Mic carry Fans body. OBVIOUSLY. BUT SHE CLEARLY FELT BAD FOR IT??? "oh no she didn't she clearly was just mad she lost the money!! 😒" are you dumb on purpose because ur starting to piss me off. If you are smart enough to pay attention to facial expressions and body language you'll know it was more than JUST the stupid fucking money. WE ALREADY KNOW TACO WANTS MONEY THERES NO NEED TO HIDE THAT!! DID THE DELIVERY OF THE LINE "surely it couldn't have been nothing" MEAN ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO YOU GUYS.

She knew she messed up her only chance at having someone like her again because she became careless. She blamed herself not mic

Call me whatever you want I don't care I know I'm right

- 🎀🦇

.

[frownyalfred]

Hi, I'm sorry to bother but do you know about this?

https://mobile.twitter.com/hitthebookspost/status/1557621677508513792

If you don't, I hope you can read this, and maybe you can repost about this...

Again I'm sorry to bother but this woman is like Umbridge in Harry Potter. Really. It's terrified.

Yes, I've seen that. I've been pondering how to talk about this, as I've seen other authors/blogs bring it up.

It's no secret that I love and use ao3. I've been on fanfiction.net, LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, etc etc in my time. I've seen fanfiction purges and policing, and it's almost always to users' detriment.

There are many topics and stories I don't personally agree with. I know the adage "don't like don't read" is a bit overused, but I stand by it. Personally, I hate reading stories about underage sex/abuse. It grosses me out. I stay away from stories about graphic sexual assault and rape; it triggers me.

But that doesn't mean I want those stories wiped off the internet. And who am I to really draw that moral line, anyway? If, say, I purge ao3 of pedophilia and any underage sex, will non-con and dub-con be on the chopping block next? Who decides that?

Proponents of "curation" on fanfiction sites make a similar, parallel "slippery slope" argument. They claim that easy and visible access to topics like child abuse or incest will lead to inappropriate behavior or beliefs in real life. It will legitimize these topics, and encourage such actions.

I don't think I need to tell most people that reading about something doesn't mean you like it, endorse it, or want to perform it in real life. Nobody ever asks men who read American Psycho if they maybe shouldn't have, in case they start killing women left and right. Just because I read a story where siblings sleep together (hello, Game of Thrones?) doesn't mean I want that to happen in real life!

The candidate referred to in the tweet seems to be not so subtly endorsing fandom censorship. You can read her interview at the link above, and it's chilling. She seems indifferent to the nuances of these discussions, ones we've been having for years on tumblr and in reaction to fandom purges.

Fanfiction is censored, corralled and contained when it looks bad for owners, companies, and sites. When advertising interests hesitate to put their ads next to graphic smut, capitalism reacts accordingly. IOS hides things on tumblr mobile because it's about money.

And that's exactly what ao3 was created to avoid. It is user-owned and operated. It is literally -- literally -- an archive of our own.

I support the hell out of ao3, and I always reblog posts encouraging others to do so if possible. We finally have a goddamned "safe space" for any kind of fiction under the sun -- any -- and we're risking it over a candidate who appeals to misinformed, underinformed moralism.

I can't blame new fandom members for getting caught up in it. Especially teenagers. They're still figuring out where they personally draw the line. Of course they're clumsy, and apply that filter to everyone around them. It's human nature.

I encourage every reader and non-reader alike to consider where their opposition to certain topics and stories stems from. Is it personal? Moral? If this story was a book at a library, would you ask the librarian to toss it in the shredder? Or would you simply put it down and walk away?

In the United States, even atheists and non-Christians are still unconsciously performing Christian, moralistic values. We do things for the sake of the "children" that make very little, logical impact on perceived ills. We are all (even me, and I'm Jewish) subject to this line of thinking, even if we reject it.

My opinion at the end of the day is that well-tagged, well-described, age-gated content should be allowed to exist on ao3 with very few, if any, limitations. If you don't like the tags -- great! The system worked! Read something else.

"Don't like, don't read" needs an update. In my mind, I've been calling it "bag it, tag it, don't wag it" which I know is silly, but it covers all the bases. Put your content in the correct category (explicit, etc) tag it correctly (sexual assault, etc) and don't shame others for what they choose to consume.

Anyway. If you're a member of ao3 (donated 10$ or more in the last year) you're eligible to vote in the board elections. I highly encourage you to do so. You can learn more about the discourse at the link above, or at ao3's elections page.

[threadsun]

Hey, you don’t have to respond to this but thank you for occasionally reblogging valid critiques about sdj and its fandom. I’m very new, but as I continue to see the way the game is being handled/directed I can see it straying away from the original vision and it worries me. Sauce’s post about redoing the demo confused me because I felt that it already worked so effectively as a demo and never saw the no route as problematic (maybe unclear and needed minor adjustments like maybe directly confirming with the player if they want to continue), but if they felt like things could be better I wanted to trust them. Seeing the post you reblogged and the tags you posted confirmed my suspicions that sdj is effectively getting defanged which disappoints me because what is the point of making it horror if none of it is fucked up?? I like Jack’s character because he is fucked up. I don’t want some dumbed down, palatable version of him and I don’t want a rinsed version of the story. I just don’t want to see this turn into a project where the ideas behind it were better than the execution. Sorry that got really long. I suppose I went through all of this to tell you that your opinion is valid and I think you should say it more.

Yeah, I mean I don't wanna be too hard on Sauce because I don't think they're the problem. I think the problem is the fandom and especially the fans who have wormed into Sauce's inner circle specifically to guide them into making the game they want rather than the game Sauce wants.

Like seriously, the people in the fandom who consider themselves spokespeople for Sauce and the snaccpop team are insistent that Jack isn't a bad person or that he was too bad in the demo and needs to be fixed. And the alleged "sensitivity reader" misses some obvious shit (I mean who doesn't know about the complex relationship between black Americans and Christianity??) while focusing on scrubbing anything that could possibly be a consent issue from every part of the game.

It's veering more and more towards "good fiction only depicts good things or bad things that aren't real" and away from "good fiction explores every aspect of the human condition and doesn't back down from the worst parts of humanity". idk the idea that dubcon or noncon is "cheap" horror, especially in the context of romantic manipulation and yanderes, is ridiculous.

And the general squeamishness around rape and abuse and all those other things that happen to real people and can also happen in fiction? It only makes things worse for people who are actual survivors and victims of those things. If you can't say rape with your whole chest and write about it as a thing that happens (including coerced consent rape) then you're just increasing the stigma and social weirdness around these things. Being able to talk about them openly and honestly, while making a distinction between fantasies between consenting adults and realities between nonconsenting parties, is integral to having a normal and healthy relationship to these concepts.

Idk. Like I got my degree in gender and sexuality studies, with a minor in sociology (and another in disability studies), I'm an active member of my local bdsm community, and I've been a sex worker for more years than I'd care to admit. I think I'm more than qualified to talk about sex and the impact of things like sex in horror and "problematic" kinks. And the way people in the fandom talk about sex? The way the snaccpop team are handling the no route? It's terrifying. It's not healthy. It shows a fundamental lack of understanding about humanity, sexuality, and social stigmatisation.

And as I said, I don't blame Sauce. Getting stuck in an echo chamber that preys on your most base fears of being evil or fundamentally a bad person is rough. It's not easy to break out of, especially since these ideas and this misguided panopticon has spread so widely that it threatens the livelihoods of independent artists and creators. But the prevalence of people believing in what are essentially thoughtcrimes is terrifying. And the rabid dedication to scrubbing the internet of everything people find personally distasteful or immoral is the basis of all fascist ideology, and that is not an exaggeration.

[professorrw]

Cheerleader Pt. 5

☆stranger things masterlist☆

Pairing: female reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Y/n and Chrissy are best friends, but when she dies, she knows things aren’t as everyone seems to think. Maybe Eddie is innocent.

Warnings: SPOILERS for ST4, teen drinking, partying, drugs, death, violence, cursing, fluff, potentially more

A/N: I literally spoiled you guys with this chapter. It's just Eddie and the reader and there is FLUFF. It's also twice as long as the other parts so you're welcome. Requests open (Stranger Things, Marvel, Harry Potter), taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You tilted your head up slightly, taking in the sight of Eddie Munson. He was leaning against the door frame smiling, big brown eyes filled with amusement. His hair was a little messy, but it suited him. You looked him up and down, taking in what he was wearing. You nodded in appreciation of his cool style.

“Are you… checking me out?” he asked jokingly.

You quickly met his eyes again, “I- no. I wasn’t. I just like your outfit.”

He narrowed his eyes but the smile remained on his face. “Whatever you say. I’m just going to keep thinking that you were checking me out. I mean, I really don’t blame you. These luscious locks and my killer style is really something that you don’t see every day.”

You stayed silent and looked at him expectantly. He stood there looking back at you, waiting for you to say something before realizing that you were still outside and he was blocking the door. “Let me get some of these bags for you,” he said. He reached forward and took three of the bags out of your left hand and carried them inside.

You followed him, “Thank you.” The inside of the boathouse was a mess, and it smelled musty. There was a film of dust covering every surface and trash laying around. You weren’t sure what was because of Eddie and what was already there.

“No problem. It’s the least I can do since you picked all this up for me.” Eddie set the bags down on the counter and started pulling stuff out. You set down a plastic bag, the six pack, and took the Cokes and waters out of your backpack and put them down too. You looked over at Eddie who had gone uncharacteristically quiet. He was staring at the six packs, mouth agape.

“You got beer?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. You asked for some didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t expect you to actually get them. You are now my favorite person,” he said. He pulled two beers out, offering one to you. You took it and followed Eddie to the couch. He plopped down and cracked the tab on his drink, taking a long sip. “That is heaven.”

You took a seat on the couch too, getting a whiff of weed when you sat down.

“So you wanted to talk about Chrissy?” Eddie asked. His facial expression was soft and understanding and made you feel safe.

“Yeah. I knew about her wanting to buy from you and that she was going to your house before that party. She never came though.”

He nodded. “We met up just outside the school at first, right where the trees start and that little picnic table is. She seemed on edge when I got there, but I mean, she’s a cheerleader and who would think of Chrissy Cunningham buying drugs?”

“Nobody… at least nobody that doesn’t know what was going on with her,” you said.

“She told me that she felt like she was losing her mind. I felt bad for her. I don’t know what she has going on but I could tell that it was really getting to her.”

“Chrissy never had the best home life. At all. For the past week she was having bad headaches, nightmares, and she couldn’t sleep. I know she was seeing the guidance counselor but I don’t think it was helping at all. That’s why she came to you.” You paused, thinking about your last day with your best friend. “The day she died I was in the bathroom with her. She was throwing up and didn’t feel good but she wouldn’t go home because of the game.”

“Sounds like her,” Eddie added.

You smiled, “Yeah. Chrissy is very devoted to the things she enjoys. Was. Sorry, I’m still not used to her… not being here.” You swallowed, trying to contain your emotions as much as you could. It didn’t work too well, tears welling up and some sliding down your cheeks. You have been so busy since she died that you never really had the time to just sit down and think and talk.

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, reaching towards you and cupping your face. He wiped the tears off your cheeks with his tough thumbs. He looked hurt seeing you so sad. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You were her best friend and it’s completely okay for this to be hard on you.” He dropped his hands, leaving your cheeks feeling slightly cold. His hands were warm.

You sniffled, “Thank you. I don’t know… Chrissy didn’t deserve that. Of all people, she especially didn’t. She was so sweet and caring. I met her when we had tryouts for the cheer team. I remember I was so nervous that I thought I was going to throw up. She noticed and came over and talked to me and told me how she saw me practicing and that she was positive I would make the team. Sure enough I did. And she did too.” You smiled, thinking about how you two had become friends some three years ago. “She was just so positive. You couldn’t be around Chrissy and be upset at the same time. It was simply impossible.”

“I’ve known her since middle school and I can tell you that she’s always been like that. I think we both became very different people in high school though. She became the most popular girl at Hawkins and a cheerleader and I’m a freak that plays a satanic game.” He chuckled.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a freak. People love to make assumptions about things they don’t fully understand or know about.” You smiled at him and received a smile in return.

“Thank you. Y’know, you’re pretty cool. Waaaaay too cool for me,” he joked.

“I don’t know about that. I think you’re pretty cool too,” you laughed quietly.

“No, you’re laughing. You do think I’m a freak.” He put his hand on his chest and a hand to his forehead, acting distraught.

“I would never. If anything, I’m a freak too. I ditched Jason and his asshole buddies so I could find you.”

“Who? Little old me?” he asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “You ditched the basketball captain for me?”

“Yes, I did,” you said matter-of-factly. You crossed your arms and raised your chin up.

“Okay, y/l/n you are officially the coolest person ever. I just can’t begin to compete with you,” he plopped his hands down on his lap in defeat.

“Oh stop,” you waved him off, “I’m not that cool. Now drink your beer that I got illegally.”

“WHAT? Not only are you cool, you’re also a rebel. Wow. I never would have thought that y/n y/l/n would be so awesome.” He picked his beer back up and held it towards you, “Cheers.” You picked up your own can and clinked it against his. Yours wasn’t even opened yet. After you cracked the top open you took a drink. It was room temperature, but you were used to drinking beer like that. 

After what seemed like a few sips, your can was empty. Eddie had finished his before you, but was waiting until you were finished with yours before getting another one. He took your empty can and tossed it in the trash along with his. He went to the counter, grabbing two more beers and also bringing some snacks. 

He opened up the box of cereal and took the bag out, tearing it open so the hole was big enough for you both to get some. “So…” he started. “What are you into?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Music wise. Who do you listen to?”

“I like The Clash, and Foreigner, and Kate Bush.” You didn’t think Eddie would be the biggest fan of any of those so you got a little bashful.

“I like The Clash and Foreigner. You’ve got good taste,” he said, grinning.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Ugh! Absolutely not!” Eddie ran over to the counter and climbed on top of it. He held his hand up to his face like he was holding a microphone. “I wanna know what love is! I want you to show me! I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me!” Eddie yelled.

You broke out into a laughing fit. Eddie wasn’t a terrible singer, definitely not the best, but he tried and it was incredibly funny. You clutched at your stomach. It had started hurting from how hard you were laughing.

“What’s so funny? Get up here!” He hopped down and pulled you up from the couch, you were still laughing a little bit and having so much fun that you just let it happen. You both got on the counter and Eddie took your hands. He was spinning you around and moving your arms around everywhere. Neither of you were coordinated in any regard but it didn’t matter.

You danced and sang together for a while until you were both out of breath. “That- was fun,” you said.

“Yes it was,” Eddie said as he put his hands on your waist to help you off the counter. “You’re a great dance partner.”

“Ha! No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re an amazing dancer. If I were ever in a dance competition, I would want you to be my partner.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at you, like he was making an offer.

“Why would you ever be in a dance competition?” you asked, laughing.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” He plopped back down on the couch and drank some more beer.

“You know what? You should join the cheer squad.” You sat back down on the couch too and kicked your tennis shoes off onto the floor. You put your legs on the couch, feet just a few inches from Eddie.

“I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to outshine everyone else,” he said, glancing at your feet mischievously.

“I’m sure they would manage somehow.”

Eddie sat there in thought for a second, stroking his nonexistent beard. “How about… you join the Hellfire Club… and I’ll learn the cheer routines for the last few weeks of our senior year?” 

Realization dawned on you. “The last few weeks of our senior year. Wow. It feels like I just started high school a few weeks ago.” You smiled bitter sweetly, thinking about everything that had happened in the past four years of your high school career. It had been a wild ride… and Chrissy had been there every step of the way. “What do you plan on doing when you graduate?” you asked.

“You mean if? This is my third time redoing my senior year,” Eddie said. You were aware of the fact that it wasn’t his first time being a senior. You’d never really thought about how that made him feel though.

“I’m sure you’ll graduate this time. I can even help you if you want,” you offered.

“As embarrassing as it is, I do need the help. I’m at an F in Ms. O’Donnell’s.” He shuddered thinking of her class. Ms. O’Donnell’s class was not fun in any regard. She was old. Old as dirt. She was very traditional and she gave Eddie trouble for being a “freak.”

“Well you are in luck because I’m passing that class with a B average.”

“Oh wow. You’re cool, a rebel, funny, an amazing dancer, pretty, and smart? You are a knockout y/l/n,” Eddie said, grinning at you.

The fact that he had called you pretty did not go without notice. Your face burned a little bit from hearing it. “You think I’m pretty?” you asked. You didn’t ask it in a way that implied that you didn’t think you were pretty, but in a way that asked if he specifically thought you were pretty.

“Oh yeah. I always have. Anyone that doesn’t is blind,” Eddie said finally. Saying that didn’t even phase him. He was so confident in his answer it made your face burn a little more. “Your face is red,” Eddie teased.

“Because it’s hot in here,” you lied, embarrassed. You took a sip of your beer, giving yourself something else to focus on other than Eddie staring at you with a knowing smile on his face.

“It’s not hot in here. It’s pretty cold actually, and it’s going to get colder. I don’t think the heater in this house works. Rick is in jail so he wouldn’t know to get it fixed.” He looked around at the house he was sitting in. “Wait, are you staying here tonight?”

“Well I wasn’t exactly planning on it but it’s pitch black outside and I rode here on my bicycle. If you don’t want me to stay I can leave though,” you added.

“No! No, please stay. I would enjoy the company,” he quickly answered.

“Alright,” you smiled, causing him to smile too. One thing you had noticed about Eddie is that he smiled a lot. Like every time you looked at him. You were in no way complaining. He had a nice smile, an infectious smile. His eyes lit up whenever grinned. His eyes were another thing completely though. They were big and brown, and reminded you of a labrador’s eyes in the best way possible.

Under your gaze, Eddie felt a little nervous. He sat up straighter and quit spinning the rings on his fingers. The movement drew your eyes to his hands. Almost every finger was adorned with a thick silver ring. He had a watch on one wrist, and a heavy silver chain on the other. He was very accessorized. You looked down at your own hands, one single ring on it. There was a thin silver band on your right thumb, a gift from Chrissy. She had a necklace, and you had a ring. If you took it off you would see the little flower engraved on the inside of it. Her necklace had a flower charm.

Eddie was looking at your hand too. “I like your ring,” he said. 

You looked up at him, “Thanks. I like all of your rings too. Do they have stories?”

“Um, no not really. I got them at thrift shops. Just whatever I thought looked cool. Except for this one.” You had put your legs down, allowing him to scoot closer to you. He held his left hand out in front of you and wagged his pointer finger. “It was my uncle’s. He got it from a bet.” 

“Oh really? What was the bet?” you asked, intrigued.

“He bet his friend that he could get an autograph from his favorite guitarist, but his friend didn’t think he could,” Eddie explained. “Well a few months later, the band that the guitarist was in was touring and my uncle went. He was able to catch the guy after the show and get the autograph. Then in turn also getting the ring.”

“Wow. Your uncle sounds like a cool guy,” you said.

“He is. I’ve been living with him for a while now. I hope I’m not causing him any trouble with this whole situation.” Eddie sighed and leaned back. “I don’t know what I’m going to do after this. How am I going to convince all of Hawkins that I didn’t kill Chrissy?” For the first time that night Eddie sounded hopeless, defeated.

Your heart ached. Eddie wasn’t a killer. Anyone that took any time to know him would realize that. You reached for his hand, which was resting on his thigh. His rings were cold, unsurprisingly. His hand was bigger than yours, and a little rougher.

You squeezed his hand, “We’ll figure this out. I know you didn’t kill her. Dustin and his friends know you didn’t kill her. That’s a start.”

He nodded, “You’re right.” He looked you in the eye and gave you a small smile. “You know what we should do?” he asked, his energy returning.

“Hm?” you hummed.

“We should make a blanket fort.” He stood up, tugging on your hand, “Come on.” You followed him to one of the bedrooms in the house, careful not to step on anything that was scattered on the floor. In the bedroom there was a wooden four poster bed with a mossy green quilt and multiple pillows. Eddie took those and you stripped the bed of its sheets. Once back in the living room you dumped the stuff on the floor.

“Okay so let’s get two of these,” Eddie said, grabbing two kitchen chairs and placing them about four feet in front of the couch.

“We obviously need a soft bottom,” you said, taking the quilt that you had found and folding it to fit between the couch and the chairs. You put down two pillows at each end and then helped Eddie spread out the sheet to drape over the chairs, creating a tent over your blanket and pillows. You put the other sheet down on the floor and put a throw blanket that was on the back of the couch down there too. You ran over to the counter and grabbed your drinks and the snacks and climbed into the fort. Eddie had already climbed in.

“A nice little castle we’ve made here if I do say so myself.”

“It is pretty nice,” you agreed. You yawned.

“Are you tired?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his elbows.

“Yeah a bit. I’ve been running around all day.”

“You should get some sleep then. Do you want to take the couch and I’ll sleep down here?”

“Eddie, c’mon. That is not comfortable. You can take the couch. I’ll sleep down there,” you said.

“Y/n I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

You mustered up a little bit of courage and said, “Well how about we both take the couch?”

“Like… I sleep on one end and you sleep on the other?” he asked. He wasn’t trying to jump to any conclusions and think you meant something else. Although he hoped you meant something else.

You took a deep breath. Eddie not automatically assuming what you meant and making you spell it out was making you even more nervous. You almost backed out and just nevermind. But you didn’t. “No, I mean that… we sleep next to each other on the couch. It’s cold and body heat will keep us warm.”

“Oh,” he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Um- yeah we can- we can do that.”

You both crawled out and collected the covers and pillows. You tossed the softest pillow down onto the couch and Eddie chose a cover. You discarded the rest of the stuff next to the couch and then looked at each other, blinking. Who knew that two adults would act so bashful.

“So I guess you lay down first and then I’ll lay down on top of you. Unless you want to lay on top of me,” you said.

“I’ll lay down first,” he said. You nodded and let him lay down. He shut his eyes when you laid down on top of him, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You slowly eased yourself onto his chest, hearing his heart racing. He pulled the blanket up to cover you both and wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was so… comforting.

“Is this good?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm. You’re warm,” he chuckled.

“So are you.”

“Goodnight y/n.”

“Goodnight Eddie,” you said. There was silence for a few seconds before you felt Eddie kiss the top of your head. His heart rate quickened even more, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face because it was bright red.