#almost wrote 'gender reblog tag'

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

D-RIDING?! PART TWO (18+)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

GENDER: FTM READER (M!READER FRIENDLY)

SUMMARY: You, a famous YouTuber, got noticed by idol crush, Bang Chan, from an "accidental" drunk tweet you made when he was in BuzzFeed. Now you are waiting in your house to make that tweet into a reality.

GENRE(S): Smut (mercy on me yall), Explicit, Fluff, comedy (cringe because I need one mentally)

SEPARATE WARNING(S):

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ READER:

Role(s): Submissive Bottom. You are a versatile bottom because I said so.

Genitals: I made it separate since there are people out there who do have a bottom surgery.

T-dick section: So one will have you having a t-dick (mentions of squirting).

Dick Section: While a separate one in the same post will have you having a Penis.

(I don't want y'all feeling uncomfortable/Gender Dysphoria as a TransMan myself)

Names: Pretty boy, Baby boy, Handsome, Cutie, Sweetheart

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ CHAN:

Role(s): Dominate Top. Made him Versatile too.

Genitals: He has a big dick because of the big nose theory.

Names: Chan, Chris, love, pretty boy

OTHER WARNING(S): You both are virgins, Oral (Reader receiving), Mentions of Vagina/T-Dick(Mentions of squirting) for the reader along with a separate one of you having a Dick. Nipple play (Reader receiving), Reader getting Manhandled kinda, Choking? Not breathplay. Cum licking, Mentions of your chest scars (or just chest) Fingering. Anal sex. Beggingish?. Praising. Different words for Dick and Vagina. Crying (reader)

OTHER(S): y'all, please have mercy on me! I never wrote smut before so this might make me leap over a bridge!

Please like, reblog and/or comment for my dignity.

Tags: @braveangel777 @1s3v3n1 @kodasstar @webwanderer @coralblook @ironhyacinth @bitchyzombienacho

IM BEING SO FR, I CANT WRITE SMUT- I CANT WRITE SMUT! HAVE MERCY ON ME AHHHH!

(I DIDNT PROOF READ OR HAD GRAMMAR CHECK, YALL GOT IT!)

It was refreshing.

You lay yourself down on your bed wearing your pajamas, silk pajamas, covering your naked body. The silk only stops at your thighs.

You waited for Chan to message you as you scroll through your fans' comments; requesting collabs, games, or other content to record.

You keep on scrolling, almost forgetting about the whole sexual situation going on until you hear a knock from your front door.

You walk out from your bedroom, holding your phone out and texting him if he was the one behind the door of your front entrance.

CB97: Why don't you find out, Cutie?

You sighed, as you slowly unlocked the door then slowly opened the door to check it was actually him.

A white hand pushes the door fully, revealing the man himself, smirking at you. He was wearing a black shirt, compressing his muscles with baggy sweatpants.

He was checking you out, blushing a bit from the silk pajamas going nice with your figure and skin color.

"Don't you look lovely, pretty boy?" Chris comments, his eyes still lingering in your body.

You felt yourself getting flustered, shy even just from him staring at you. He steps closer to you while closing the door behind him.

"Can I touch you?"

You nodded and just by that Chris leans into you, kissing your soft lips while his hands roam around your waist, while one hand grips your butt.

You moaned softly around his mouth.

Your arms around his neck as your hands slowly reach to his shirt, gripping it as you push your face away from Chris.

He looks at you confused, giving you almost puppy eyes.

You thought it was cute. Yousmirked as you took him to your room.

He looks around, admiring your room until you smash your face into his lips again, catching him off guard but quickly kissed you back.

You both feel impatient, as you take off Chan's black shirt as he pushes you down on the bed, prying off the silk pajamas.

"You are already naked underneath, you were really expecting me, huh?" His accent, his voice raspy, making you want him more and more.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WARNING: T-DICK SECTION

For the people with no bottom surgery/testosterone:

He had you trapped, both of his hands holding your waist as he leans into your chest, giving a few kisses on your chest scar (or chest)

"So handsome..." He mutters as he continues on kissing you as you feel his hands reaching up to your chest, caressing your nipples as the other hand reaches between your thighs.

You moaned, feeling his fingers playing around your folds.

"You are so wet for me, baby boy. Do I really get you this wet? I'm so flattered..." He whispers into your ear.

All you can do is moan, nodding your head as you feel your thighs parting from each other.

You look down to see Chan giving a few kisses on your left thigh then giving a few more kisses, almost getting closer to your wet folds.

"I want to taste you so bad, would you let me taste you, sweetheart?" He looks up at you, waiting for your response.

"Please, Chris! I need you.."

He smiles, leaning his head towards your t-dick, immediately licking and sucking your folds. Even getting closer to your small dick, giving a few licks.

You moaned, as you moved your bottom area getting more pleasure, almost riding his face. You even felt his nose touching your dick, sending more pleasure into your body.

Chan lets you as he continues on licking and sucking, moaning a bit, sending vibrations through your body.

You continue on moving your body, feeling yourself getting close. Your body is twitching, as Chris raises his fingers closer to your t-dick, rubbing quickly as you moan even louder.

"Chris—a~ah, I'm cumming! F-fuck!"

He sucks harder and even rubs even faster until you finally cum, squirting.

Chan licks one more time as he moves his face away slowly as he stands up, admiring your sweaty figure.

You sit up as your legs twitch a bit.

"Damn, I squirted. This kinda embarrassing..."

Chan just laughed as he leans closer to your face giving a few kisses to your forehead and cheek.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WARNING: DICK SECTION

For the people with bottom surgery/has a dick:

He had you trapped, both of his hands holding your waist as he leans into your chest, giving a few kisses on your chest scar. (Or chest)

"So handsome..." He mutters as he continues on kissing you as you feel his hands reaching up to your chest, caressing your nipples as the other hand reaches between your thighs.

You moaned, feeling his fingers playing the tip of your dick.

"You are so hard for me, baby boy. Do I really get you this hard? I'm so flattered..." He whispers into your ear.

All you can do is moan, nodding your head as you feel your thighs parting from each other.

You look down to see Chan giving a few kisses on your left thigh then giving a few more kisses, almost getting closer to your hard cock.

"I want to taste you so bad, would you let me taste you, sweetheart?" He looks up at you, waiting for your response.

"Please, Chris! I need you.."

He smiles, leaning his head towards your dick, immediately licking and sucking the tip. Pushing his head down, giving you a good suck.

You moaned, as you moved your bottom area getting more pleasure, almost riding his face. Chan lets you as he continues on licking and sucking, moaning a bit, sending vibrations through your body.

You continue on moving your body, feeling yourself getting close. Your body is twitching, as Chris raises his hands closer to your balls, fumbling around as you moan even louder.

"Chris—a~ah, I'm cumming! F-fuck!"

He sucked harder and faster until you finally cum, some hitting his face.

Chan licks one more time as he moves his face away slowly as he stands up, admiring your sweaty figure.

You sit up as your legs twitch a bit.

"Damn, that felt weird...."

Chan just laughed as he leans closer to your face giving a few kisses to your forehead and cheek.

"But, you enjoyed it didn't you?" He questions, as he continues on kissing your face.

"I did, but let's get into the main event, shall we?" Chris chuckles as you stand back up, holding between his baggy pants, pushing it down and throwing it to the side.

He looks down at you while chuckling again, smirking from how impatient you were.

His dick flings up, standing a bit straight and even dripping with pre-cum.

You licked your lips, your mouth just watering from the sight of his dick, however, you felt yourself getting kinda scared since it looks big.

"Chan, how big is your dick? I mean I knew it was big because of the nose theory..."

"Huh, what nose theory?"

"Focus on the question and not the nose theory—I'll tell you that later."

You look up at him as he thinks, then shrug.

"I don't know, I never measured my dick before..."

"Fuck you mean you never measured your dick? You know what, wait right here. You grab the lube and the condom from the cabinet next to my bed."

Chan did exactly what you said while still looking perplexed that his dick size really bothered you that much.

You came back, holding a measuring tape.

You sat back down on the bed as you told Chris to come clover to your face. You felt his dick touching your cheek.

You licked your lips as you raised the measuring tape. Chan just chuckled on how focused you were.

"Is it really that serious...?"

You just nodded until you reached the top of the tip.

"Damn, 8 inches? I guess OT8 is for life, huh?"

Chan groans, as he smacks on top of your head softly. "Don't ever say that again..." He jokingly said, shaking his head, smiling.

"Anyways, let's continue."

"Gladly." He says as he pushes you down, putting you into a mating press.

You hear a bottle cap opened making you shivered in anticipation.

He squirts a generous amount into his fingers.

You felt his fingers circling around your rim as his other hand gripped your neck, holding you down.

You whimpered, shaking your butt for him to just insert in already.

"P-please Chris~ Fuck, hurry up!" You whined.

"Sorry baby boy, let me give you what you want~" He teases you as you feel one of his fingers inserting in.

You hiss in pain, not used to the feeling at all. Chan shushes you as he tries to calm you down, giving you a few kisses in your back.

"It will feel good, I promise..."

You calm yourself down, moving your waist side to side.

He gently plays with your rim as he slowly inserts another one. You hissed a bit but you could slowly feel the pleasure going through your body.

He continues on fucking you until he hits a certain area making you moaned along with your toes curling.

"Found it..." He whispers, hitting your prostate while inserting the third finger in.

You moaned, sending Chris's dick even harder; throbbing and aching in pain. He was getting hot and bothered—impatient—but he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable so he continued on. He adds a fourth one just in case after finding out his dick was 8 inches.

"Chan, love, just put it in already!" You whined.

You didn't need to tell him twice.

He quickly rips the plastic out with his teeth then taking the condom out and putting it on his dick.

He quickly takes his fingers off as he lines his dick up your hole, tapping it a few times until he slowly inserts the tip in.

You hissed again. Even though his fingers were thick, nothing could beat his thick cock (corny).

He apologized softly, while he hissed too from the clench.

"Fuck, so tight. I'm going to push in more, okay sweetheart?"

All you can do was whine while he slowly pushes in more. You both hissed again as you felt tears coming out of your eyes.

Chris hands both made it to your waist, going in circles.

He inserts more until finally he fills you whole.

He waits as he groans, your hole tightening around him as he tries not to cum just from it. He bites his lip as he caresses you again.

You felt warmth in your chest, loving the care from Chris and the fact he even was waiting for you to get used to his size.

You smiled softly as you shook your butt, making him grip your waist.

"You can move, love~"

Just like that, he pulls his dick out and slams back into you making you moan. He was already going rough, almost like a crazy animal.

He keeps on going, angeling himself a bit as he slams again and again, hitting your prostate.

You moaned even louder, gripping the sheets.

"F-FUCK~♡ CHRIS A~AH!" You cried out in pleasure as he continued on abusing your prostate. You felt overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he was giving you.

You both moaned out of pleasure feeling yourself getting closer. He was getting closer as well, you feel his dick twitch inside of you.

He leans in, his chest on top of your back, whispering sweet words to your ears making you shiver.

"P-pretty boy~ I'm about to cum...Are you about to cum as well? Hmm?" He whispers.

You repeated the word 'Yes' as he continued slamming until finally you both released. Chan's cum filling the condom whole.

He steps out, taking the condom out and tying it then throwing it away into the garbage bin.

You turn your body around, laying flat, your back facing the bedsheets as you calm yourself down.

Chan walks up to you then lies down next to you. "I never did this before so I wanna know (Knaur) if I did good?"

You smiled, feeling horny all of sudden from his sweet voice. His duality from being all dominant to almost submissive—You kinda wanna ride him until he breaks.

"it's my first time as well, Chan and you did so well for me, love..." You said to him, kissing him all over his face.

He chuckles, smiling widely from your praises until he yawns, clearly drained.

"I'm tired, my body is tired. Maybe we should've had sexs not around the performance. Haha!" He laughs, not noticing your eyes staring into him like you were going to devour him.

"Yeah, but, I'm quite disappointed..." You sadly said—well pretending to be sad—using your fingers to trace around his neck.

"h-huh? Why? You said I did good?" He sits up, looking at you like a sad puppy. (There is no pet play)

"of course! You did so well, but my tweet. You remember it don't you?" You said calmly as you continued on looking at him.

He thinks for a second until his face turns red.

"O-oh."

Oh indeed.

"B-but, aren't you tired, I'm quite tired myself..." He rambles until you shut him up by placing your hands around his mouth.

"But you promise you want to make that tweet into reality, right? I want to ride your dick until you cry. Calling my name. Plus, I'm doing all the work. You can just lay down and look pretty, my pretty boy~"

His face turns even more red, all of sudden turning shy and weak. His cock going hard again, throbbing in anticipation.

"Even your dick seems to agree with me~"

You can't wait to actually make that tweet into reality.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Ending (myself) in part three.

YALL IMMA KMS, I CANT WRITE SMUT WTF AHHHH

[fairy-writes]

Could you do something with gen narumi from Kaiju 8? Something with angst and eventual fluff? Maybe s/o going missing during a mission or something

A SPECTACULAR DAY OFF

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Defense Officer!Reader

Notes: I love Narumi, but nothing compares to my love for Hoshina (except for maybe my love of November 11, but that’s a whole other story (seriously, I wrote 6k about that man))

__________________________________________________________________________

Today was supposed to be your day off.

You woke up, the sunlight streaming through your window, letting you know it was likely well past noon. The window was cracked as it always was, and Narumi Gen was fast asleep beside you.

As lazy as he was, Gen actually slept very little. What with his career and gaming habits, it wasn’t unusual for you to find him up into the wee hours of the morning doing something or other. So you were delighted to see him relax and sleep in.

You trailed a finger between his eyebrows, down his nose, and over his slightly parted lips, resting your hand on the side of his neck, leaning in to kiss him.

Just as you pulled away, a hand cradled the back of your head and kept you close.

“Who said you could stop?” Gen’s voice is gravely and sleep-addled, thick with the remnants of dreams. His lips brush yours, and you can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Someone has to get up and make breakfast,” You tease, and he huffs, sharp red eyes opening to glare menacingly at you. However, you aren’t phased; instead, you wriggle out of his other arm, which is firmly wrapped around your waist. 

For being “Japan’s Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant,” he really was weak in the arms when he was sleepy.

It takes another thirty minutes of snoozing before Gen actually gets out of bed and ambles his way into the kitchen, where you’re flipping pancakes. A decent-size stack is already buttered and plated at the table, with a bottle of syrup sitting next to it and a bowl of chopped fruit to top it all off. The coffee pot is burbling on the corner of the counter, and two mugs are set aside for the roasted beverage later.

Gen’s handheld game console beeps and chirps as you finish up the pancakes, and he shovels them into his mouth almost as fast as you can make them. You watch him over your cup of coffee, his voracious appetite is as present as ever it seems. 

It’s blissfully quiet until your phone alarm blares and shatters the silence. You check the notification and scowl.

A kaiju.

It's just on the edge of your division lines, too. It was maybe fifteen minutes away? You sigh, set down your coffee, and look at Gen, who is shoveling the rest of his pancakes in his mouth, before you head out.

Today was supposed to be your day off!

When you come to, it’s dark, and you panic.

Are you blind?!

No… There’s a pinprick of light, and you are relieved to be able to see. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done had you been blinded. You wouldn’t have been able to do your job anymore had that happened. You would’ve been forcefully retired from duty, likely with honors, but that wasn’t the point. 

Where were you? 

You take in your surroundings, realizing very quickly that you are in a lot of danger. 

Three things. 

One. A building must’ve collapsed on you, and you were in an air pocket of sorts.

Two. Your earpiece was just emitting static. Broken maybe? 

And three. Your leg was pinned under some rubble. Pins and needles tingled up the pinned appendage, and you tugged half-heartedly. It’s no use. You were stuck. 

You press the button on your earpiece,

“Hello? Does anyone read me? I’m stuck and need immediate evac and medical assistance.” You say, but all you hear is static. With your leg pinned and your earpiece broken, you are forced to sit and wait.

Maybe search and rescue will find you? You can only hope and pray.

What feels like hours pass. 

You yawn for what feels like the umpteenth time, head lolling to the side as sleepiness overtakes you.

This really wasn’t good.

Wasn’t there something on the internet about yawning being a sign of lack of oxygen? Was your air running out? You could barely see as it was; there likely weren't any substantial cracks letting in fresh air.

Were you… going to die here?

No! You couldn’t! You had promised Gen that you’d stand by his side as an equal one day!

Even if you were never able to, you still didn’t want to die here. 

You begin to struggle, using what’s left of your suit’s power to try and shift the rubble. It does shift, only to fall even lower. You were never that powerful, but now you might never be. 

As darkness overtakes your vision, you call out one last time. 

“Gen… Please…”

When you come to again, it's to bright, fluorescent lights shining overhead and the beeping of a handheld gaming device. 

“You’re awake.” Gen’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. You turn your head and see him. The nubbins of plastic feeding oxygen in your nose are uncomfortable, but you push through. 

“What happened?” You mumble, and he snorts, putting down his game and turning in his chair to look at you. 

“A building collapsed on top of you. You ran out of oxygen. My dumb disciple found you.” He said quickly and succinctly. 

Shinomiya Kikoru. 

“But how—”

“It doesn’t matter how. All that matters is you’re safe.” He cuts you off harshly, but his words and actions say the opposite. He’s treating you like you’re a doll. Typically, it would make you annoyed. But now? 

Now, you just want to sleep. You almost died, for heaven’s sake!

So you do, the entire time, Gen doesn’t let go of your hand. 

[tango-but-everywhere]

New pinned time :3

Welcome to Tango But Everywhere! I post pictures of TangoTek on occasion.

I’ll also do tango in locations he shouldn’t be when i feel like it/get requests for it :D

I don’t really have a schedule, I post on days when I want to, but I usually post at 9pm Australian Eastern Standard Time. Because that’s my timezone, and that’s one of the few times that’s almost a good time to post for everyone. It’s like 11am GMT or something. 6am EST. I’m so sorry to the PST inhabiters and the Kiwis. But if you move that around a little for daylight savings on occasion, and that’s the closest thing you have to a schedule.

The tags on every Tango post will include #tango but everywhere. If it’s a tango where he shouldn’t be, it’s #tango where he shouldn’t be. If it’s a tango-free post, something that involves something else, it’ll be tagged with #not tango. I stay within the realms of Tango but I’m physically incapable of staying completely on-topic. If you’re looking for a clip, #tango clip. If you’re looking for a specific series, I have #hermitcraft, #trafficblr, #create squad, and #non minecraft tango. If you’re looking for a specific hermitcraft season, they’re all tagged as ‘hc[number]’, for example hermitcraft 10 would be tagged #hc10. I have a lot more tags than this but we will be here forever if we go through all that. I’m not going to spam the tags but tags unique to this blog will be available to click on in the tags of this post!

I also did a Tango skin tournament - I actually wrote this post while the finals are still going, but it’ll be over by the time you’re reading this. If you want to see the results, here’s the masterpost!

Spam reblogs are encouraged! Asks, submissions, and dms are always open! I love all of that. And I’m not scary. I literally just post pictures of a minecraft man sometimes.

As for me - I’m not Tango. I’m @chambers003 . But this isn’t my main, it’s a gimmick blog, so call me whatever. Any pronouns are fine but I prefer the gender neutral ones like they/it. I’m also an adult, apparently. Some people like to know that one.

Thanks for reading, have fun, watch Tango.

[darklinaforever]

Hey, I just want you to know that someone sent me this shit. I don't know what this person is talking about, but just know that some offended kid is clearly bored and spreading such nonsense. Because yes, it sounds like nonsense and anyone familiar with similar procedures knows this. Especially since it was sent to me for some reason, lol.

Thank you for letting me know about this and supporting me ! Besides, it will be sad to no longer have you among our regular accounts talking about HOTD / FIRE AND BLOOD, I will miss you a lot in that regard, it was always great to read your answers ! 🥰

Otherwise, other than that, to get back to this damn message... I guess this is the perfect time to tell the whole story ?

Basically everything starting with the fact that I didn't know (and still don't know) how to take the gender change from Michael (a male character who has existed since 2004 and whom I have personally loved for several years already) to Michaela Stirling and that I was hoping that Sophie Beckett's character wouldn't undergo that kind of change no. more in the future, as many people were hoping to see her become a man on screen (and thank god that apparently won't happen) for a romance with Benedict. This kind of opinion has caused me to be insulted as a homophobe and queerphobe in general.

Why is this important when we are talking about a story of plagiarism ? You will understand.

The fact is that I am not homophobic or queerphobic. Those who follow me have already seen me posting on queer community posts and talking about my frustration with queerbaiting. Not only that but also know that I am a bi woman. (And contrary to what the antis say, no that's not a lie to be able to better spread my anti-LGBT remarks, which I have never had !)

As for this plagiarism thing, it turns out that someone (apparently named Grace, so we'll call her that now) accused me of plagiarizing her post that I liked, my own post having been post a few hours later after her own post :

Except I'm sorry, I didn't plagiarize anything at all.

Yes I liked her post, but I also liked other posts with almost the same arguments. By the time I wrote my post, his had disappeared from my memory, drowned in tons of others that I had liked.

This person basically acted as if I had written my post while looking at theirs, which is, as you will have gathered, not true.

The fact is that it is logical that the arguments are found when we talk about canonical events that happened in a show that we have all seen and a book that we have all read for the most part. We literally state canon things in these two formats. Logically it looks similar.

Also, officially, the reason I wrote this post is because, like I said, I saw a conversation talking about the topic : Will the plot be the same despite the gender change by Michael ? Essentially, that make me write my little post was this.

So Grace came in the comments and reblogs on this post to accuse me of plagiarism and I basically told her that well no, without being particularly mean or rude in my opinion, and only one person that I know of came to take my defense in comment @theweeklydiscourse and once again, she was polite and not mean. If you don't believe me, here's the conversation in the comments section :

Then, this person decided to publish a post asking for a second opinion / others opinions, to confirm whether or not I had plagiarized her.

I wasn't active at the time when she had to do it, and when I went there (since she had essentially tagged my name, obviously I had gotten the notification) she had blocked the comments and reblogged on her post.

Then later her account could no longer be found. I thought she had blocked me.

And that's when I received the news in anonymous that she was in the hospital because she hurt herself, because I apparently had harassed her, had encouraged my friends to also do this, that she would have received insults and death threats in comments and also private messages, etc.

And if all this (the party where she received hateful comments and private messages up to death threats) is true (because I remind you that we do not have proof that this is the case !) I have absolutely nothing to do with it.

Maybe yes, it's possible that Grace received hate messages from my community, or not from my community for that matter, because in the end we don't know since she deleted everything. But the fact is, whatever was in those comments, I know absolutely nothing about it.

I repeat I did not harass this girl or encourage anyone to do so !

Having myself been the victim of harassment almost throughout my schooling and having also had problems on tumblr, I can assure you that I will never encourage anyone to harass !

And the fact is that now I receive tons of hate messages, accusing me of plagiarizing people in a general way, of being anti LGBT, of pretending to be Bi to spread my LGBT hatred in tumblr. To advocate pedophilia (because I like Sareth and Sessrin I guess ?) incest, (because I like Daemyra and Borgiacest I guess ? In addition to writing a story myself with an incestuous romance between brother and sister in a fantasy world ?) abuse of all kinds, etc. (We really need to teach these people that liking things in fiction has nothing to do with real life...) That me and my community are disgusting. That I harass many people and encourage my followers to do so. That I have no life. That I am trashy, disturbing, etc.

Not to mention that the friend of this so-called Grace herself accuses me of all these things. Even going as to say that I am heartless ! I still remind you that overall this is what I said :

How the hell does that make me heartless ?

And all this hatred, who showed up after the first message from this so-called friend of Grace, obviously coming from pompous moral superiority, literally comes from people who also proudly claim that they created a discord account on me to spit on me. (And this apparently comes from Rhaenicent stans and therefore from a community linked to HOTD...)

Do you realize the paradox and the hypocrisy of all that ?

And obviously, these same people are actually also going to insult Grace for being "an anti-LGBT person". Because if I "plagiarized" it since I am accused of making anti-LGBT remarks, according to them it would be obvious that the person I plagiarized is also anti-LGBT.

What is false, her message which was also the only one that she had published on her account I specify, did not contain any mention of the LGBT community but in fact speaks, like mine, generally of the fact that the basis of the relationship Fran x John x Michael was different from the book, and indeed, it wasn't the same thing.

(Something that has once again been noted a lot on the networks in general. Hell, even my friend who doesn't have the networks deduced the same things !)

So not only am I accused of homophobia but also this person, whose drama these weirdos are using (if it's true once again) to try to take me down more than they already do. They say she's pathetic, and who knows maybe she'll kill herself, lol ! Essentially, their words, not mine :

Essentially, this is all just an excuse for the antis to basically, well, harass me again. Because at this point, that's what's happening. Did you still see what @nrilliree received ? It’s the fucking upside down world after all. (Besides, that makes me laugh... I'm not allowed to like several fandoms ? It's a crime to like several things on tumblr now ? What a joke...)

Why do trolls like me so much ? I don't understand ! 😂

The point is, I'm going to repeat what I've already said :

It's not very complicated to understand anyway ?

I wanted to give my overall version of the facts. Now you do what you want with it. The fact is that I know very well what is going on and I have a clear conscience. In any case, I thank everyone who supports me. You are adorable and I all love you very much !!!

[call-her-sir]

I guess I probably should make a pinned post at some point, so here were go.

I'm Ivy, (not my birth name but people call me this,) a lesbian, a softly masc/butch presenting cis woman (she/her), a domme, a top, and a sadist. This is a sideblog on its own account, so I can follow and like under this name, but occasionally I disappear for days/weeks when I'm logged into the other one. Don't worry, I'll be back.

This blog is 18+ only. Not 18? Do not follow or interact. No ifs ands or buts about it. I'm not interested and I will be annoyed (and not in a fun way) if I find out otherwise.

I'm not going to be as aggressively policing men in my follows, likes, or reblogs. Its fine, especially if i write something fun. But I'm not interested at all. Keep it respectful, don't say overly gendered things in reblogs and we cool.

Terfs Fuck Off.

If you're trying to get me to flirt or talk dirty at you, call me sir (the lowercase is important, Sir is reserved for real relationships.) Otherwise call me Ivy, "hey" or just don't refer to me with a name, its whatever. Don't talk down to me, I'm not interested. I don't particularly like master, daddy, mistress or others, they don't feel right.

I don't do raceplay, detrans/dykebreaking, sissies, bathroom stuff, footplay, ageplay, or serious violence of any sort, even hypothetical.

I'm not a furry, though not to the point of revulsion like the above.

I'm pretty bad at tagging things that aren't my original posts. You may see degradation and humiliation, sadism, some light hypno and brainwashing, pet play and the like. You may see some CNC play but I guarantee you will not see me use or reblog content with the hard R form of that.

I edge slightly into misogyny play, almost ignorable if you're not into it, but I try to tag that as butch patriarchy. This may also include suggestions that I can "fix" straight women and other gross orientation play things of that nature. It's just kink, I'm not seriously promoting this.

I like correcting brats but it doesn't work very well on the internet, especially with strangers. Don't expect a lot.

Don't tell me you came to something I wrote, you can tell me that you want to cum to it, but finishing up is wrong.

That's all I got for now.

[awlumii]

savior amidst snowstorms.

# — pairing: snow prince!albedo x gn!reader

# — characters: snow prince!albedo, gender neutral reader

# — summary: moments before it all ends, a figure comes to your rescue.

# — warnings: mentions of blood, death, near-death experience (reader)

# — tags: first meetings, implied violence, unspecified injuries, introduction to au piece, angst (??), reader is in LOTS of pain and wishes for death but no MCD

# — notes: SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGSSSS I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING I LIKE ABOUT SNOW PRINCE!ALBEDO AAAAA I CAN'T WAIT TO WRITE MORE! reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy this (and are curious about it, too!)

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — ❄️ + 🌼 — ✧

i'm going to die here.

that is all you can think as you watch the lawachurl shamble towards you. you did all you could. you put up one hell of a fight; originally you were faced with at least ten hilichurls, all of which you managed to defeat. you didn't escape from that confrontation unscathed, but they were dead, and you were still breathing. unfortunately all the commotion lured the attention of a lawachurl in the distance, and now you were staring down the cause of your inevitable demise. the hilichurls you faced earlier left you cut up and bruised, so you're in no state to take this thing on.

like hell i'd be able to anyway, you think as it lumbers closer. even in the cold, you can smell the stench of raw death wafting off of this hulking creature. how many adventurers has it feasted on? how many unfortunate souls have fallen to this thing? whatever the number is, you know in your heart that you're about to add onto it. a sharp sting of pain shoots up your leg as you try to step back and gain some distance from it. a hilichurl arrow pierced your thigh deeply, the point of which is still firmly lodged in there. only now, when the adrenaline has started to make way for fear, do you feel the acute agony of it all. all of your injuries seem to weigh on you now, the time when you need it the least.

boom. the snow-covered ground seems to rattle under your feet as the lawachurl comes closer. about ten paces away now. it's a miracle the thing hasn't lunged at you, else you'd have made a fine dinner by now.

boom. nine paces. it's almost tame in its demeanor. in its eyes, you see nothing but a predatory hunger. blood from your wounds hits the fresh snow with a soft plip-! and though you can't see its nostrils, you're prety sure they must've flared at the smell.

boom. boom. seven paces. dragonspine is about to become your icy grave. what did you even come here for, anyway? what could have possibly been so important that you'd put your life on the line like this? was it some silly commission? some old adventurer's tale? what does it even matter? nothing matters in the face of death.

boom. boom. five paces. this is it. you let your grip on your sword slacken and you hear the metal collide with the snowy floor. what use is it to you at this point, anyway? the lawachurl reaches out. you let your eyes slip shut and brace for a painful death.

but it never comes.

you count each breath you take expecting the next one to be your last. after the fifth one though, you hesitate to take a sixth as you're curious as to why you're still breathing. by now, the lawachurl should have you in its frosty grip, crushing your ribs. why are you still alive?

you open one eye and are surprised to see the lawachurl not even facing you. its back is to you and it's down on one knee with its head lowered. even with such a hazy mind, you recognize that posture. it's one of servitude, of submission. another surge of fear grips you by the throat. is there something that even a beast like this would bow its head to? what could possibly possess more strength than this creature on this icy hellscape? you hobble to the side to get a glimpse of the new arrival.

there's... nothing there. great. not only are there abominations on this mountain, but it would appear that it's haunted, too. you have half a mind to scream. how much longer will the universe dangle death in front of you? you don't like being teased, much less with your own safety. a frigid gust of wind nearly knocks you over, forcing your eyes shut. the blood that leaks from your head seems to crystallize, making it hard for you to open your eyes. you manage to pry one of them open to peer out into the distance; surely, you're imagining things. the mountain is many things, but haunted couldn't possibly be one of them... right?

the way forward is almost misty, the gusty snow obscuring the view of what's ahead. but through it all, you make out a figure of something. a silhouette of a person walking your way.

a person? that can't be right. a cryo lawachurl wouldn't be bowing to a human. you squint and try to focus, a part of you hoping that the figure turns out to be that of another, potentially more horrifying, monster. yet the silhouette remains the same. it's clearer now that it's closer. it's that of a man — his stride seems smooth, his body seemingly unbothered by the chaotic snow whirling around him. he appears untouched by the elements, almost.

you gulp. maybe you shouldn't rule out a haunting just yet.

you can't run, so you're forced to watch as the man comes closer and closer still. when he breaks through the mist, you take notice of how ethereal he looks amidst the snowstorm. his hair is a pale blond and reflects what little sunlight comes through the clouds. it reaches just below his shoulders and is almost neatly pulled into a braided half ponytail. his skin is pale and his eyes are a sharp teal that cut through the whiteness of your surroundings. his white coat bears navy blue and gold embellishments and his hands are gloved. he extends one to the monster and you see his lips move, though you can't hear his words over the whirlwind of snow. only when the hulking beast beside you moves do you realize what he said.

"arise."

you yelp and, for the first time in minutes, your body moves. you crash into the snow beneath you unceremoniously and with a loud groan. everything hurts. you're truly defeated. the man's lips move once more and the lawachurl approaches him with a bowed head. to your horror, it looks as though he's speaking to it — even worse is that it appears to understand him. if he were to give the order, that thing would tear you limb from limb. you don't know if you should waste your last breath begging for your life, or if you should just go back to accepting your demise with open arms.

neither of those choices are correct, apparently, because when the lawachurl faces you once more, gone is the intense bloodlust you'd felt moments earlier. it approaches you again, this time seeming calm. the man behind it comes closer, allowing you to see it better. maybe you're delirious with pain, but you notice that he's extremely attractive. there's a certain elegance to his features, his cold, calculating stare making you want to bow your own head in submission.

yeah. definitely delirium. you're losing your mind.

"if you're going to kill me," you say, your throat lined with needles, "then please, don't let me suffer. make it quick. i'm in enough pain as is."

those teal eyes regard you closely. there isn't a lick of emotion on his face. "do you need assistance?" he asks. his voice, too, is devoid of emotion.

you blink your one eye slowly and notice dark spots in your vision. it won't be long before you lose consciousness. and hopefully, your life, too. look at you; so badly damaged that you're wishing for death. the man before you doesn't move an inch as he awaits your response. you spit blood onto the icy ground away from you. "just... kill me." you rasp. "please."

"i do not wish to see you dead." his crystalline lashes seem to flutter. if you didn't know any better, you'd think him an angel. it's a shame there's no wings protruding from his back. "i wish to aid you. will you allow me to do so?"

you stagger. "please." you beg. "just..." the dark spots grow suddenly, consuming your world. you plummet into darkness before you can finish your sentence and collapse into the snow, never to see the sun again.

...or so you'd think.

you awake with a start, your body screaming at you with every frantic breath you take. you pat yourself down despite the aching of your wounds. all of your flesh is relatively intact — did you seriously survive that encounter? what the hell was all of that? the hilichurls, the monster, the weird angel-man—

wait a minute.

once more, you pat yourself down. you feel bandages in various places, each one meticulously wrapped around your appendages. you look down at your legs and find them buried beneath luxurious cream-colored silk sheets. come to think of it, the mattress supporting your weight feels like it's curving to meet your body — where the hell are you?!

you do a quick sweep of the room and an unknown emotion makes itself present. you're not sure whether to feel awe, fear, or curiosity. the room is fit for royalty: its floor-to-ceiling windows are crystal clear, allowing for a perfect view of the snowy mountain outside, the floors are marbled and polished, the furniture seems antiquated, yet grand all the same, the silvers and golds either woven through the cushions or embedded in the harder surfaces. this place, imposing and majestic as it might be, seems frozen in time — no one has touched this place in ages, yet it seems well-cared for. your head feels ready to explode. who in the archons' name would—?

"you've awoken."

you're not proud of the shriek that rips past your lips at the sound of the voice. (you're even less proud of the fact that you can hear it echoing off of the walls. was it really that quiet in here?) you turn to see the man from outside standing in your doorway, his features less illuminated, yet still regal in the dim lighting.

"i'm not going to harm you." his face remains as passive as ever. "please, don't shout."

"wh-why wouldn't i?" you retort. you break into a fit of hacking coughs. how did you not feel this ill a second ago? adrenaline sure works in strange ways. only now do you feel how flushed and clammy your skin is, how the banging in your head rivals that of a swordsmith forging a weapon, how painful it is just to take a breath. you ease yourself back into a lying position. you can't defend yourself like this. "you were communicating—" you pause to cough again— "with that monster outside! you could have killed me."

the man is at your side in the blink of an eye. an icy hand rests on your forehead and you feel a near instant relief. your eyes slip shut against your will. "you're running a high grade fever," he points out. "but i do not understand why you think me to be a threat when i saved your life. is gratitude lost on people in modern times?"

though spoken so evenly, such a biting response doesn't fit your image of this guy. who does he think he is? "you should have let me die." your voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. "let me die in peace." you partially mean it. the brief moments of clarity are nothing in comparison to the agony you're in. hell, you may as well be dead already. perhaps this is just what was waiting for you after you crossed over.

the man moves and you hear some shuffling. "i... don't want you to." he's whispering. it's almost like he's speaking to himself. "allow me to help you. please."

you can't make heads or tails of anything anymore. "water," you plead. your body is truly on its last legs. you're begging, though if you were of clear mind, you wouldn't reasonably ask this man for a thing; survival instincts have kicked in, and you're only trying to use what's been given to you. "give me water, please."

instead of the cold water you expected, you feel your head being propped up and hot water (tea?) slides down your throat instead. it's infinitely better than the ice water you had imagined — the relief is instant, and the spikes in your throat seem to clear almost immediately. before you can ask for more, some more is already being offered at your lips, and you drink eagerly, like a dying man in a desert. once you've had your fill, you're being eased back down, your body feeling just a touch better than before. words of gratitude don't make it out of you, so you settle for a sigh. you feel your consciousness slipping once more. dimly, you think there must have been a sedative in that drink. must be medicinal, you think, seeing as your throat doesn't hurt much anymore.

"the medicine will act faster if you rest." the man's voice seems so far away. "when you wake, please allow me the honor of knowing your name."

with the last of your energy, you breathe your own name in a whisper. you can almost hear the smile in the man's voice as you tread back into darkness.

"my name is albedo," he says. "it'll be my pleasure to greet you when you're fully conscious. get some sleep, now."

like you need to be told twice. almost on command, you fall into a deep, restful, dreamless sleep.

✦ oh my god. OH MY GOD??? SNOW PRINCE!ALBEDO INTRODUCTION??? WHEN'S THE FIC ZUZU???

✦ i actually am VERY proud of this. it's not the intro that i've been dreaming about for... what, a year? but i like the setup. i can't wait to build this au again.

[indigo-creates-chaos]

Hey there! It seems as though at least a few people are seeing my posts. Considering that this is the only social media where I'm actively posting, I thought I should write a little introduction!

You can call me Indigo. I'm almost 20 years old as of posting this. I'm aromantic and asexual, my gender is still to be determined. My pronouns are they/any, which basically means that any pronouns (including neos) are fair game as long as you throw in a "they" every once in a while.

(This is long so I'll cut it here)

If you've seen my posts you'll know that I enjoy yelling about mcyt stuff, specifically about fable smp. I'm also following smps like bound smp, mer smp, siege smp, craft smp, EoD, Hermitcraft and occasionally the life series though.

I'm also an enjoyer of fictional languages/writing systems. I learned Ender back in the day and I wanna at least write down Telchin, Enchantment table, Quixian and Luxtent to name a few. There's a bunch of others that I wanna write down too, with the goal of having a key for a bunch of them in the same place eventually. I'm so normal about languages guys ^^

I also enjoy reading. I have a lot of books and will gladly give book suggestions if anyone asks me. I mostly read fantasy and science fiction books, ideally without a prominent romance aspect. I also read what might be considered murder mysteries? That's probably not what the genre is called, but you get my point. I've read thinks like a "a good girls guide to murder", "Dune", the aurora cycles, most of the grishaverse books "the priory of the orange tree" and "the sunbearer trials". This isn't a complete list by any means, if i wrote a complete list this would be way too long.

I also enjoy watching crafting content on YouTube. It's really fun to watch other people make stuff! I mostly watch people who make cosplays or just regular clothes, but there's some diorama/sculpture makers in there too.

If you've been here for a while, you've seen the posts about the beginnings of my technoblade cosplay journey. That is still a project I really want to make and it's the reason I started posting here in the first place. I am going to finish it at some point, I don't know when yet though. I'll still post updates here if I work on it.

I likely won't post here all too often, it'll mostly happen if I've got more mcyt theories or other fandom related stuff that I need to yell into the void to get them out of my head. Other than that it'll be reblogs of stuff for the most part. I am working on a tagging system but it's not done yet (:

Well then, that's the introduction! I didn't expect it to get this long lol, but that goes for all of my posts. As always, thank you for reading and have a nice rest of your [timezone]!

[2shebears]

Intro/Pinned 💞

hi jumblr, I'm ray/רחל and this is my sideblog for jewish stuff! I follow from my main blog with the initials f-a-c. on this blog i want to talk about things like tzniut and gender roles, israel/palestine, indigeneity, antisemitism, xtian hegemony, community, and observance! so you know, all the jewish things.

=about me=

🇹🇼🇺🇸

27/cis/pan/she/her/hers

i speak english & français, have studied latin, italian, and ancient greek, have tiny household amounts of mandarin, and am learning modern hebrew

married!!!

(almost) intellectual property attorney, aiming to become a cultural property attorney for indigenous peoples! i've participated in UN talks about indigenous rights ✨

wish me luck on the bar exam

based in NYC

reblogs with "read later" tags are NOT endorsements lol i have not read them yet

=faq=

what's your jewish frame of reference? nominally aligned with open/modern orthodoxy (YCT beis din) but really post-denominational. my husband has an askhi dad and a mizrachi mom so we follow a mix of minhagim leaning heavily ashki. my observance is personal and evolving, but rn I cover my hair sometimes (always at shul & on holidays), host kosher-style, and attend a non-affiliated conservative-ish shul. I light candles and unplug on shabbat & chagim, and categorically will not do legal work, but I don't abstain from most muskeh. I'm an artist so being able to create on my holiest days is really special, sorry hashem. strongly dislike taharas hamispacha but am compliant on a technicality. I have multiple tattoos and multiple piercings (not just classic lobes). I spell out God but might evolve on this one. actually might evolve on basically all of these. I am a jewish work in progress!

what's your israel frame of reference? husband's family is largely in israel, incl olim, sabras, mena refugees. my in-laws live in jerusalem. i have both israeli and palestinian friends and coworkers. I got bit really hard by a cat in tel aviv once and had to get a rabies vax course and every doctor at the israeli health ministry made fun of me for getting bit (fair)

are you a zionist? no in the sense that i'm in favor of palestinian statehood and self-determination; yes in the sense that I don't think the state of israel and its denizens should be wiped off the face of the earth as a prerequisite for the peace process; yes in the sense that I think israel is an actual state (one that is actively doing war crimes!) and I don't think it needs to be held to unique standards; no in the sense that i would generally be okay with a peace process that completely restructures or essentially ends the current state so long as it does not extinguish jewish self-determination in the region; yes in the sense that i am a jew who will argue with you ;)

you're into Indigenous rights, so how does that bear on i/p? i i literally have so much to say about this that I wrote my law schol capstone on it. Indigeneity is an extremely capacious and fuzzy designation. It doesn't solve land or statehood issues. both israeli jews and palestinian arabs tick MANY of the boxes of being Indigenous but don't map perfectly onto the anglo-settler states and their indigenous peoples, and that is okay and interesting and cool to talk about. finally the things happening now would be horrifying whether or not any party is Indigenous. i'll use the tag #i/p indigeneity on this going fwd!

you posted something wrong about (insert thing here). ok not a question but please tell me if I do. I try to be a diligent fact checker but some things on social media are developing and unstable stories. I welcome fact checks always.

[honeysuckle-venom]

What is the difference of feminine lesbians and femme lesbians? Your tags on that reblog about lesbians on TV made me wonder what you mean.

Hi Anon,

Thank you so much for such a fantastic question! The answer to this is very, very complicated and to a certain extent individual, and I certainly do not claim to speak for all femme lesbians. But there are some things I can say about this.

Most lesbians do not explicitly identify as either butch or femme, but just as lesbians. But some find their homes and identities in those terms and the butch/femme community. Femme and butch are two sides of the same coin, and just as butch does not simply mean "wears jeans," femme does not simply mean "wears dresses." In fact, gnc, nonbinary, and/or transmasc femmes are common. Femme is a specific identity, not just an aesthetic.

For most femmes, in large part the identity is about repurposing and reclaiming aspects of femininity in a specifically queer way, a way that is designed to signal to and attract other sapphics (often, but not necessarily exclusively, butches). Most femmes are very intentional about which aspects of traditional femininity they embrace and which they reject. For example, I keep my hair long and usually wear vintage inspired dresses when I go out, but I almost never wear makeup and I don't shave my legs. For me and others like me, being femme is in large part about examining femininity and performing it intentionally and in a queer way, by only performing certain aspects of it and/or by performing it in an exaggerated manner.

But while aesthetics and external performance of femininity are certainly tied into being femme, it is also more than that. Femme is a complex identity that for many people is their way of defining their gender, connection to history, and/or role in relationships. Many femmes prefer to date butches, but even those who don't usually see themselves as mirrors to butches, as the other half to that community. Butch and femme are also historically based identities with ties to working class lesbian bar culture in the 1950s. I'm not going to get into that as much, but most people who identify with those terms see themselves as part of a continuing history and subculture (if you're curious about this, there are many books out there. One I see recommended a lot, though I haven't yet read it, is Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers by Lillian Faderman. Another classic which I have read is Stone Butch Blues, which takes place primarily in the 1970s. Major trigger warning for police brutality and several rape scenes in it though).

A lesbian who is fairly feminine but does not see themself in relationship to that history, to that subculture, and/or to butches is, in my opinion, probably not a femme. A lesbian who wears dresses because that's what's expected of her but who has not examined her gender and identity and chosen to embrace specific aspects of femininity in a queer way is, in my opinion, probably not a femme. And ultimately, a lesbian who does not identify as a femme is not a femme. At its core, femme is a complex and nuanced identity, not an aesthetic.

A final note: The original post I left tags on that made you ask this question was talking about femme lesbians and lesbian characters' costumes on TV. I would argue that perhaps lesbians on TV don't necessarily need to identify out loud as femmes to be femmes (it's hard enough getting tv shows to say the word 'lesbian' or goodness forbid 'bi'), but the reason I don't see most of them as femmes is because most femmes specifically incorporate elements of gender-nonconformity and/or gender exaggeration into their presentation and/or mannerisms. Most lesbians on TV are just wearing traditionally feminine, fashionable outfits identical to the straight girls around them; that does not read as femme at all to those who know how to read those cues. Also, I wrote this specifically about femme lesbians because that's what the original post was about, what your question was about, and how I identify, but most if not all of this is true for femme bi women as well.

[anotherghoul666]

Follower influx and some clarifications

Holy shit guys, I leave for a couple days for an intensive BDSM workshop / play party getaway and I come back with a follower count that's almost doubled???? What the fuck happened here?! XD

I think this is tied with the Sleep Token band primer I wrote last week? Cause that post blew up way more than my usual stuff does. Which means at least some of my new followers (after I'll go do a deep clean for the damned porn bots) decided to follow me for intelligent, instructive Sleep Token and/or music related content. For yall's sake, and so your dashboards may not be flooded by shit you have not signed up for:

Hi, new people! Thanks for your interest! Reminder than this is a Ghost blog primarily. There will be some Sleep Token or other bands I'm into sprinkled in, and some general aesthetic stuff, but by and large, this space of mine is Ghost-fandom centric.

My blog is a NSFW blog. If you stay here, you will come across:

shipping. This is a fanworks-centric blog. Most of what I reblog are fanart and fanfics and fan artists supporting each other's work.

kink and BDSM. I am a lifestyler, I consume and produce kink content!

queer content, I consume and produce gay content, queer stuff, poly ships, etc.

I AM BUCKWILD FERAL HORNY and I will not tone myself down. In the tags, in my posts, in my writing, etc. If you say here you will see naked characters doing some wild filthy shit and you gotta want that.

education, in terms of kink / BDSM, poly / open relationships, queerness of gender and orientation, etc. If you are not open for that, or you expect some well thought out music education, this happens once in a blue moon, and you'll see a thousand posts about dicks before you see another band primer like you followed me for.

You are responsible for your own tumblr / internet experience. If any of this is not your jam, please kindly unfollow me and preserve yourself, because I will not change my ways for new followers who didn't read the small text under the contract and followed me for content that is not my typical jam. Consider yourselves warned.

If you are down for all that, then welcome into my little mad corner of the world! ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoy your stay!

New fic drop at the end of the week; New leather pics coming in the next days too ideally.

Stay horny, stay creative, keep educating yourselves, love yall!!

[longsightmyth]

I posted 11,763 times in 2022

1,417 posts created (12%)

10,346 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@longsightmyth

@agardenandlibrary

@spaceshipkat

@rollingwiththedead

@discountalien-pancake

I tagged 3,095 of my posts in 2022

#myth rags on fba - 408 posts

#food - 241 posts

#myth rags on a court of thorns and roses - 154 posts

#myth talks truthteller - 141 posts

#myth talks wot - 128 posts

#myth rags on throne of glass - 114 posts

#myth rags on crescent city - 90 posts

#other people talk wot - 73 posts

#myth rags on the selection - 72 posts

#myth rags on tigers curse - 71 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#also weird that as a designer you’re expected to have feelings for your models. like they’re just there to do their job leave them alone

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

As a Certified US Southerner I promise y'all can use folks and y'all whenever it is useful to you, it's handy for folks to have a catchall english term that doesn't assume masculine as default (as opposed to 'you guys') or have occasionally weird connotations ('you people' 'those people'). Plus folks has one syllable less than people or parents (either alternative use) and implies a kinship, which can be nice.

Does it maybe sound silly used outside of some contexts yes, but who cares?

591 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

#4

The problem with the 'not like other girls' YA phenomenon is that the books almost inevitably go out of their way to use the ostensible differences to shame other girls while said character is basically always the epitome of what our western society desires girls to be, right down to being skinny, white, and symmetrical. Specifically in YA it is used to elevate a character who already meets society's current standards without trying, while shaming people (mostly girls) for trying.

This is specifically a problem with YA fiction, not real people who feel ostracized by societal standards and the very real enforced gender norms.

So if I, in my critical posts on YA fiction, criticize the 'not like other girls' TROPE

This is what I am criticizing

Not real people who face bullying and oppression for not conforming or feeling like what society says girls are or should be

I think I've said this before, but it's worth saying again: characters are not real people and cannot make their own decisions or feel their own feelings. An author wrote them doing or feeling these things, and unfortunately in YA fiction especially this trope is often used to shame (especially but not exclusively) girls who have to work to meet societal standards and expectations.

Real people feeling real ways is something entirely different.

880 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

#3

Much like Hollis, Bear doesn't have the sense god gave a muffin (bless his heart)

He does, however, have a big heart and a fear of rain.

His comfort hedgehog has gotten a lot of use.

1,379 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

#2

Honestly I understand kid tantrums. Like, statistically, this may very well actually be the worst thing to happen to them! They have limited life experience! They're learning!

5,431 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

brb the whole discord in an uproar at the UNCONSCIONABLE results of Mister Global 2022

95,056 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[faux-ee]

I posted 3,543 times in 2022

That's 2,736 more posts than 2021!

737 posts created (21%)

2,806 posts reblogged (79%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kyouka-supremacy

@colourofthekites

@grishaverse-chaos

@chenechen

@akhlys-san

I tagged 1,669 of my posts in 2022

#fyolai - 51 posts

#dabihawks - 50 posts

#bsd - 33 posts

#bungo stray dogs - 19 posts

#personal - 18 posts

#spotify - 17 posts

#asks <3 - 16 posts

#bkdk - 14 posts

#soukoku - 13 posts

#sskk - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#it was so unfeeling and repetitive and like. sir. i can’t relate to ur experiences and u aren’t doing a very good job making me care abt it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

bungo stray dogs is a piece of media thats so filled with tumblr energy. Its like a collective mass hallucination of famous author fanfiction with just the right amount of derangedness, mental illness, generational trauma and existential crisis. Each and every character gives major gender envy. Everything is enemies to lovers to enemies to freinds to lovers to enemies. Everything the characters do is high-key illegal and everyone agrees that old guys in the government r useless except for this one triple spy who's sleep deprived to a fault. There is a guy who is chronically online and absolutely cannot leave his futon. There's another guy who could write novels in days and is more attached to a racoon than the rest of the world. bram stoker listens to spotify. bsd is the true tumblr-esque media.

Edit: and as it often appears bsd characters become each other's blorbos. They wanna hug each other they wanna see them going through the undying pain of human existence they spin them around in a mental microwave or smth

Edit edit: also tumblrinas love literary analysis and bsd is full of literary motifs

420 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

#4

ranpoe actually foils fyolai bcs when poe had his mind set on killing ranpo he had a moment of realization that he wouldn't know how to live in a world w/o him, and several chapters after he became besties w/ ranpo, but nikolai already knows that fyodor is his intimate friend, there will never be another person like fyodor for him, yet still decided to kill him, bcs he "wants freedom more than any kind of joy"

434 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

#3

Kacchan is the only thing Izuku allows himself to have

and it's why Izuku’s always vague when it came to the intensity of his feelings about Kacchan & why Katsuki at first instinctively pushed Izuku away. 

idk if anyone has done this before, but anyways here's my fav aspect abt BakuDeku's relationship: Izuku's possessiveness over Kacchan and Kacchan only.

So I've been thinking abt Kamino a lot, and specifically two scenes: a) Izuku shouting "Give him back to me!" to Mr. Compress, and b) Izuku's devastated scream after Bakugo was taken away.

Izuku is an extremely selfless person, with only the heart for "saving people". That was part of the reason why he was almost immune to Katsuki's bad attitude towards him: dude doesn't think about himself a whole lot, alright. He's just kind of out of it. An observer. He wants to focus on his own feelings much less than he cares about others.

When have you seen Izuku do something for himself? Sure, he wanted to become a hero, he wrote 13 notebooks' worth of hero analyses. But this may as well only be an exertion of his obsession abt quirks & strategies, because despite all the talk about his dream, he never actually thought to exercise and improve his body strength before he got the OFA.

Here's an idea: Izuku doesn't know how to do things for himself, unless given a larger purpose. He takes little care of his own ambition before taking the world's weight onto his shoulders.

And he is subconsciously avoiding any selfish thinking, especially any private feelings he has about Kacchan, platonic or otherwise. 

He doesn't know what has triggered the blackwhip; can't remember what Kacchan told him before almost sacrificing himself to save him; doesn't remember whatever made him go berserk in battle. He acted like none of this emotional turmoil he experienced happened at all and went back to being this people-saving, smiling sunshine every. single. time. Even after Kamino, his first thought was Kouta, except that after Todoroki mentioned Katsuki, the light returned to his eyes and he finally broke down. 

Izuku actively avoids thinking about anything that causes strong emotions to erupt in him, yes, but more importantly, even when he is recounting these experiences to others, he omits whatever part that concerns Kacchan (i.e. when he told his classmates “I couldn’t save what was in front of me” - right, but Izuku, why are you describing Kacchan as if he is just anyone else instead of the person you have looked up to for all your life?)

He doesn’t allow himself to be selfish, to be partial, to treat Kacchan as somone special even when that’s what he does (notice how he’s always going like “Kacchan and the others”). 

Let’s look at what he said to Mr. Compress again: “Give him back to me!”

Didn’t he almost sound like a child who was robbed of his favorite toy? 

Why would he feel such possessiveness over Kacchan, though? 

Kacchan is Izuku’s Symbol of Victory, right? Izuku follows him, admires him, idolizes him (”closer to me than All Might, this amazing person in my life”). Here it is: Kacchan has been somewhat of an idol to Izuku, the incarnation of victory. 

Kacchan was part of Izuku’s definition of heroism; and heroism, to Izuku, is almost like a religious belief. He draws strength from it, uses it to cope with the pain of being quirkless, and admires All Might as one might do any deity. 

I’m going to go a little further here: when one prays to whatever deity one believes in, one is often praying to this concept inside one’s head, and taking what one needs from this private connection. Similarly, Izuku feels possessive over Kacchan because the latter to him is something of a god-like character, from the attachment to whom Izuku draws his desire to win. To Izuku, Kacchan is not just the Symbol of Victory. It’s his Symbol of Victory. 

Katsuki is his. His sun, his god, his drive to win. 

Izuku, who is so selfless that he rarely wants things for himself, doesn’t want to acknowledge that he can, in fact, be a little selfish when it comes to Kacchan. 

Meanwhile, as Mr. Compress had stated, Bakugo doesn't belong to anybody. And with such a big ego Bakugo would hate to be anything but independent. Something about Izuku made him want to keep his childhood friend at arm's length; he felt as if Izuku was stronger than him, looking down on him - and where does he get this feeling? Because Izuku offered to help him once at four? Stood up to him a couple of times?

There is another dimension to it, I think: it was also because Izuku had always followed him. And Katsuki, being the kind to always over-think, could mistake Izuku's possessiveness for Izuku seeing himself above him.

If an independent person ever finds himself on the receiving end of such possessiveness, he would feel chained, scared, and pissed off. Don't come, Deku, I don't want anything to do with you because the way you stick with me as if I belong to you, it almost chains me down. 

Thanks for bearing with my shipping brainrot xD

445 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

#2

B-B-Boyfriend? Like a guy who your body moved on its own for when he was in danger? Who you've grown up with? Activated a whole new quirk for?

550 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

being invested in bsd is such a unique experience bcs u watch the anime and think oh theres mafia and detectives and terrorists this shit's so hardcore and then u open bsd wan and they r kindergarteners and magical girls and princesses and ur just like. look at my cute little uwus <3 and then u read the manga and was hit with like three different schools of philosophical thoughts and suddenly become interested in classical novels with rlly deep themes and start to develop an existential crisis. its like yeah i watched an anime abt super powers and it all went downhill from there lol

993 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

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[fairy-writes]

Hi, can i please ask for prompt 19 with Jouno? Thank youu<3<3

THE SCENT OF IRON

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “It’s funny. Nowadays, people always expect a gun, but never a knife.”

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Jouno Saigiku x Reader

Word Count: 0.3k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Blood, Injuries, Knives

Notes: Yes I’m stealing my own title from a BSD/Tokyo Ghoul story I wrote. Don’t come for me. 

(I’m also getting conflicting answers about what Jouno’s first name is. So lmk if I got it wrong, and I’ll edit this.)

YES, I KNOW IT’S SHORT. DON’T COME FOR ME

__________________________________________________________________________

It was hard to hide things from Jouno Saigiku. 

Especially something like the overpowering scent of iron.

So it’s no wonder he picks up on it immediately when walking back to the Hunting Dogs headquarters. Typically, yes, he would take a cab or just call a car from the base to come and pick him up. But he had this nagging feeling that he wanted—no, needed to walk home from his mission today.

So he did. It wasn’t that far. In fact he could make the walk in about thirty minutes. 

And all was well and good until he caught the scent of iron and the sharp odor of pain. 

Saigiku paused, fingertips brushing against the stone and concrete of an alleyway entrance. He really should keep walking… He shouldn’t care about whoever was in pain down there.

At least, he didn’t care until he heard a gasp and realized it was you.

His feet carry him faster and faster until he almost trips over your extended feet and crouches at your side. He can feel the sticky, oozing blood soaking into his boots and realizes just how bad the situation is. 

“Sai? What are you doing here?” You wheeze, and he feels his lips tug down into a frown. 

“What happened?” He asked sternly, and you hissed out a stuttering laugh. 

“Heh… It’s funny. Nowadays, people always expect a gun, but never a knife.” You whimper, and he hears your hand squish in the torn flesh of your side. 

He probes your side, and you cry out. The wound is deep, and he can’t quite tell if there’s more than one stab wound or not. Knowing your luck, there likely were. But he presses on, removing his gloves to get a better idea of what’s going on. 

All the while, he’s overpowered by the scent of the iron. It’s cloying and nauseating, making his stomach twist and turn in his abdomen. Usually, he’s fine. After all, he’s a Hunting Dog. But something about it being your blood makes it worse. 

He ignores your cries and scoops you up into his arms. Your clothes are already soaked through, and he can hear the “pitter-patter” of the drops of blood falling onto the concrete. 

You needed medical help. 

Now.

He only hoped he could get you the help in time. 

[mywingsareonwheels]

I posted 4,776 times in 2022

That's 855 more posts than 2021!

219 posts created (5%)

4,557 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@harperhug

@youhavenoideahowmuchihatethis

@akindplace

@indieninja92

@vaspider

I tagged 2,962 of my posts in 2022

Only 38% of my posts had no tags

#itv endeavour - 258 posts

#fanart - 250 posts

#gifs - 234 posts

#endeavour morse - 221 posts

#art - 152 posts

#dracula - 145 posts

#dracula daily - 143 posts

#roger allam - 138 posts

#endeavour - 131 posts

#bucky barnes - 130 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#but there are some superb works in all of the fandoms i've read extensively (the witcher   mcu/stucky   endeavour   discworld   etc.)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

How to tell a theatre reviewer doesn't know as much about Shakespeare as they'd like you to think:-

- they say a production of "Richard III" is too funny

- they say a production of "Cymbeline" is too weird

- they say a production of "Coriolanus" is too gay

- they say anything bad ever about Jade Anouka's Shakespearean acting (NB if they do this it also means they are almost certainly a massive bigot)

- they criticise a production of "Macbeth" for being too straightforward and as-written

- they criticise a production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" for not being straightforward and as-written "enough"

- they criticise any production of any play for having too much: politics, queerness, transness, singing, dancing, sexual innuendo, proto-feminism

- they criticise racially-diverse, disability -inclusive, and gender-flipped casting (this also usually means they're a terrible person)

- they think it's an actively good thing if Rosalind in "As You Like It" is still really feminine when dressed as Ganymede

- they think they're being really cool and subversive by not liking Shakespeare

- they think they're being really awesome and arty by not liking anything being written now

216 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#4

Happy Hobbit Day!

Today being the birthday of Frodo and Bilbo Baggins (September 22nd, that is).

Here are some suggestions for things to do to celebrate:-

- eat mushrooms

- and/or po-ta-toes

- and/or fisheseseses

- have two breakfasts

- be generally lovely and compassionate, but never in awe of anyone

- drink beer (alcoholic or non-alcoholic as you prefer)

- have fun times with people you love, even when things look rough

- go on a little walk somewhere green that makes you happy

- wear a good weskit (waistcoat)

- go on an adventure, and embrace being considered a bit weird :-D

220 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

#3

For those new Sandman fans who haven’t read the comics: Gault is an original character for the show! Replacing two others who did something similar for very different reasons.

And of all the changes made (not that there are many, tbh!), this is my favourite. I love Gault so so so much I can’t even describe it. She is beautiful and glorious and magnificent and she deserves the world. <3

232 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

#2

SEEING FROM HIS VIOLENT DEMEANOUR THAT HE WAS ENGLISH

[may not stop laughing about this all day]

234 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

People can be very down here on those who only leave kudos rather than a comment on AO3. And just. I love comments, don’t get me wrong. They fill me with joy!

But getting those emails that something I wrote weeks or months or years ago has got a new kudos or two still absolutely delights me. Please don’t underestimate how wonderful and heartening that is.

Similarly, reblogs here on tumblr are the *best* and are how things get noticed and spread given the way tumblr works, but that doesn’t mean I don’t notice or am not very pleased when some thoughts or a ficlet I wrote here gets a heart too.

I know how much energy it takes sometimes to leave a comment or to reblog something. Far too much, sometimes. Far, far too much. And knowing that my efforts are appreciated even with just a click of a button... still special and good. And sometimes I’m worried that all the “don’t like, reblog!” posts on here discourage people from doing that because they feel like it’s worse to like but not reblog than to not react at all, and... no. No, really no.

To conclude: comments and reblogs are the best. But kudos and likes are still good and encouraging things! If you want to show appreciation for something I’ve written or made? Then a) thank you, how lovely of you! <3, b) please don’t be put off doing it in a way that actually works for you. <3

609 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

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[ihavenocluedude]

Lost in admiration

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!reader

Link to reading this on Ao3    Link to my main masterlist 

A/N - I don’t mention any pronouns as far as I know so I think I can call this gender neutral but what the heck do I know. Title sort of taken from the song Head over Heels by Tears For Fears. Although not really inspired by it. Except maybe the vibes?? I’ve seriously been working on this for days now and my brain is beat. I am so in love with Eddie Munson though so it’s worth it. 

Sort of inspired by these two tags I wrote in a reblog of an Eddie Gifset :

Warnings - Swearing (a lot of internal anxious swearing especially I guess but also in dialogue, which is also mostly in the anxious dialogues), crushing on someone for years, mentions of drugs and alcohol, drinking, I’m kind of scared this is OOC... so like hoping it isn’t but warning that it might be

Word Count - 5.7k

”So, you’re having a party on Friday?” This had been going on for 3 days now, the near-constant questioning. 

Several people coming up to you at any time they themselves figured was a good time to ask this very question. And now even fucking popular douchebag star of the basketball team Jason Carver was speaking to you. Seemingly trying to work some sort of charm that you bet several of the cheerleaders had fallen victim to.

”There’s no party.”

”That’s not what the entire school is saying y’know? Parents gone, a whole house to yourself, don’t be selfish.” As if any of that would change your mind to actually liking parties and wanting to have a bunch of strangers in your home.

”I know.” You chuckled sarcastically before continuing ”But, y’know… no one in this school except for me actually lives there so, it’s my right to decide. No party.”

”So… no party?”

”Exactly. Spread the word, jock.” Thankfully, he stepped away from your lunch table after that. ”I hate this.”

”You don’t hate this.”

”Robin. I hate this. Someone literally almost stopped me in the grocery store yesterday, with my mom next to me! They’re not even away yet. And it wasn’t even me who told the masses that I’d be home alone this weekend.” You ranted in anguish before letting out a small groan, your volume rising slightly during your rant, making several of the students in the cafeteria look over at the two of you.

”I am sorry for telling Steve…”

”I know.”

”I didn’t think he’d-”

”Robin, it’s okay. It’s fine. It would’ve spread around anyway. Apparently, Steve was not the first to start spreading the word. Someone heard us talking the other day and didn’t hear all of it, so they assumed, like they always do.”

Your parents had told you the weekend before they were going to be away. Told you that they trusted you not to do anything stupid, have at most just three friends over, and to try not to mess up the house whilst they were gone. They hadn’t told and taught you the wise lesson that it’s wise not to mention this information in school or to tell your best friend not to tell anyone including her still somewhat new friend Steve Harrington.

Formerly known as King Steve. More recently known as the guy who had a thousand dates lined up but nowhere to take them to. Hawkins wasn’t exactly the most… eventful place unless you count the horrifying events that you’d thankfully and unthankfully gotten to know about through Robin’s rants to you about it after she got pulled into it all.

And Steve couldn’t possibly bring all his dates to the makeout spots like Lovers’ Lake or Skull Rock. No no no, that would be completely ridiculous. So when he heard Robin mentioning you being home alone for the weekend, aka a possibility for a party he could take a date to, he’d just ran off to the phone to start calling numbers. He isn’t the guy to force a party upon you but… he ’accidentally’ was anyhow.

”Would it be that bad if you had a party?”

”Are you offering to clean up the house with me the day after?” You asked mostly sarcastically. Even with trying to turn everyone and anyone away from the idea that you were having a party… It was sort of starting to grow on you anyway.

The ’classic’ high school experience was just there right in front of you, why not appreciate it? Besides if you didn’t you’d have to open your door every five minutes on Friday and tell them ’no, there isn’t a party here, listen for a second… you hear that? complete silence’ anyway by the way this had spread… so why not instead actually just let them in.

”Sure.”

”Really?”

”Why not?”

”Am I really going to have a party just because of group pressure?” Robin’s smile was ridiculously infectious and even as you said it you felt your lips quirking up into a small smile.

”Not just. He would totally come.” AND she’d won you over completely. You knew exactly who she was talking about, because who else would she be talking about with such inflection in her voice.

Before you knew it you had stood up on the lunch table dramatically as he himself has done before. Clearing your voice in a showy way before almost screaming to the cafeteria ”I CHANGED MY MIND! MY HOUSE THIS FRIDAY, PEOPLE!”

You should’ve known to regret those sentences by the way the basketball team table started cheering. Fuck. But then whilst you were getting down off the table, desperately averting your eyes from the popular table, your eyes just quickly locked on him for a second. The usual jean vest & leather jacket duo, and the Hellfire club shirt proudly presented under them. But more importantly, his eyes on you too.

”Well, that was nice.”

”Do you think he’ll still come if Jason and his league of basketball douchebags come?”

You knew that he wasn’t that into parties in general. But he showed up sometimes. You weren’t really a party person yourself but if Eddie ’The Freak’ Munson came to the party, you’d hear about it the day after usually. Some of them he just attended because he knew he could sell a lot, bringing along his little lunch box-y thingy.

But… in this situation, you also sort of had a contact that could perhaps convince him to come. Hopefully.

The video store wasn’t necessarily your favorite place in Hawkins, but it wasn’t all that bad. You’d hang out with Robin whilst she worked sometimes, which led to actually getting to know Harrington a bit. There were movies galore, you had a pretty good friend discount, and Robin would tell you when something you’d maybe want to rent or buy would come in. But none of those reasons were why you entered the video store along with Robin right after school that afternoon. Almost rushing up to Steve Harrington, a somewhat pleading look in your eyes already.

”I need you to pass on a message. Well, not a message per se… I just-”

”Out with it.”

”I want you to make Dustin convince Eddie Munson to go to my party. Without making it all- fucking- obvious.” You were jittery, nervous, and still just a tad on edge from your earlier announcement at lunch. And Steve’s immediate reaction to start laughing at what you just said did not help your on edge behavior. ”Steve, I’m serious.”

”Eddie ’The Freak’ Munson?” He scoffed once he’d calmed down his laughing enough to get words out, but then turned quiet for a few seconds as he saw your anxiousness. ”Are you… No way! You’re into Freaky Eddie?”

”Steve! Shut up!” You muttered with wide eyes, quickly glancing around the store to thankfully see no customers your age in the store at the moment. ”Can you do it?”

”It’s up to Dustin but I can ask him.”

— ~~~ —

All in all… it wasn’t a big deal. The thing about Eddie, your thing for Eddie. But it had started years ago.

It could all be traced back to middle school. But you wouldn’t call what you felt back then a crush. It was more like…  an admiring kind of intimidation and jealousy.

He was just so himself.

You felt like you were still deciding if you were an actual person and there he was so… fully formed. He’d already started his rock band with his friends, been so passionate about music it almost made you sick, and had a sick buzzcut at the time. And he was older. He seemed so mature and grown sometimes although he was probably nothing of the kind.

It wasn’t like you ever talked to him, the intimidation was just… too much. He went off to high school whilst you were stuck in middle school for two more years without him and by then he’d slipped away from your mind a little. Well until you saw him again at least.

Once you caught up to high school with him he was in his junior year. Just two more years until you’d probably never see him again, at least that’s what you thought.

Freshman year was… easy. It wasn’t quite the same awestruck admiration you’d had for him when you were younger. And you hadn’t yet quite seen him like you would come to see him the year after. Once entering your sophomore year, the year of his first senior year, you realized that the feelings you felt towards him had definitely developed more… romantically?

Without ever speaking to the guy, without ever actually interacting with him, it had still developed.

He had started growing out his hair from the buzzcut the year before, the shaggy curly hair growing quickly and just almost reaching his shoulders at that point. And you noticed that you’d never really noticed his eyes before. For a guy who seemed so unreserved and called a freak, his eyes were just really calm in a way. Yet so expressive, warm, and just beautiful. And although you’d never really mention it to anyone, not even Robin, he was adorable. And hot.

But you had to be honest with yourself after all. That was his senior year. He’d leave Hawkins and probably never come back after that, at least that’s what you’d heard the plan was. And you were… glad.

Maybe you could stop feeling like some school girl with a silly crush on the ’bad boy’ of the school. Maybe you could stop feeling as if he was just everywhere you went in Hawkins, just because your brain seemed to feel like it meant more seeing him than seeing any other schmuck in this school or person in this world. Maybe you could stop fantasizing about joining his club just to get the courage to actually talk to him.

Then he was held back.

And it all just snowballed. The feelings grew more intense and testified to the fact that you really never were going to speak to him out of your own volition. Not even if you tried joining The Hellfire club, because how on earth were you going to speak to him whilst under the pressure of the game too?

And now you had agreed to host a party partially because Robin told you he’d come. It wasn’t even guaranteed. It was just speculation and your heart jumped out of your chest and told your brain it was a good idea, even when in afterthought it felt like the most stupid thing you’d ever done.

— ~~~ —

You’d thought about if you’d actually get the courage to speak to Eddie at the party. Would what people call ’liquid courage’ actually give you courage? You weren’t a party person yourself, you didn’t know the proper etiquette, and you definitely didn’t feel like you had whatever you thought you needed to speak to Eddie Munson. Which felt silly considering Freshmen speak to him daily.

You hadn’t ever talked to him thus far, why would it happen at the party?

This was the question you were both asking yourself as much as you also were protesting it. You obviously wanted to speak to him. And hey, why not? It would be more casual at the party, perhaps liquid courage is actually courage, and hey maybe unicorns do exist?

It all just felt so ridiculous that you questioned why you were thinking about it this much anyway. A loop in your head with the intermittent ’you should think about all the other great things about this party!’. And still, it was on your mind the whole Thursday school day.

”Hey!-shit. Hello?” The question had been clouding your mind enough to first not even notice the person who’d called after you. ”Can you stop walking please?” Or at least seemed to be calling for you. You turned around before answering, hoping to see that it wasn’t yet another person asking about the party and instead someone calling after someone else.

And there he was. Seemingly actually calling for you.

Taking a breath and clearing your throat before answering, ”Y-Yeah?” if you hadn’t it probably would’ve sounded more like a whisper.

”You’re having a party tomorrow right?” A quick nod in response as you don’t fully trust your words, barely even trusting your facial expressions in this moment. ”Could we talk for a minute?”

”Yeah sure absolutely.” You were talking to him. What the fuck was going on.

”Not… in school preferably.” He clarified, hoping that you’d get what he was signifying. You gave a slower nod before gesturing with your thumb over your shoulder towards the way you were headed out of school, him giving you a nod back to say that he’d follow you. Walking up beside you as you then walked side by side through the halls.

”I could… I could drive you home or something and we could talk about it on the way?” He suggested sort of stumbling through the sentence, your shy and quiet demeanor because of being flustered evidently being somewhat contagious.  

”Uhm… well, my friend is supposed to pick me up. But… yeah sure?

”Oh, I should’ve known, you can still go with… them. We could just talk tomorrow?”

”No, it’s fine, really.” You insisted whilst simultaneously trying as hard as possible not to constantly look up at him. To get to see his eyes up close or see if he had that smile you’d only get to truly see when he was making a spectacle of himself somewhere in the school. Instead, you allowed yourself a few short glances before averting your eyes to the way you were going.

Whispers from other people in the hall somehow already started going around about the two of you as they saw you. But soon enough Eddie’s voice cut through them as he spoke to you again.

”So, Steve right?”

”Huh?”

”The friend picking you up?”

”How’d you know?” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in response although quickly trying to unfurrow them to not seem as desperate for the answer as you actually felt. Running your fingers anxiously over your forehead lightly before running your hand over your hair and then dropping it to your side again.

”Well he picks you up sometimes right?”

”Well yeah but-”

”And I know Dustin who knows Steve so…”

”Right. Of course.” Somehow it had never truly come up in your mind that Eddie could know who you were. That he had heard about you from Dustin or others, that he could’ve had thought about you too whenever you two saw each other around Hawkins the last couple of years. ”I just have to tell Robin that I’m going with you instead and then we can go I guess.” You sort of sighed out when the two of you stepped out of the school, trying to take deep breaths but still feeling like you were somehow failing.

Once outside Robin was thankfully the first thing you saw. Not that she was close by but rather that your eyes knew just as well as your brain to seek her out when anxious. Your safe person.

”I’ll just go wait in my van.”

”I- I don’t know which one’s yours.” It wasn’t completely true, but it wasn’t false either. You’d seen him arrive at school once or twice at the same time that you did and although you had picked up that it was a van… you’d mostly been focused on the driver rather than the car or really trying not to look.

But even though you knew you’d embarrass yourself more by trying to find it later without knowing what it looks like… you found yourself regretting saying that anyway. Because right after you said it, he got closer to you, made sure he was on the same eye-level as you, and then pointed it out before noting; ”It’s… that one.”

Shivers. down. your. spine. Mouth slacking slightly open before quickly snapping it shut. Breathing in deeply through your nose, although regretting that instantly as well.

He was barely doing anything but being somewhat close to you, body heat radiating from him, his arm pointing over one of your shoulders towards the van that sat just a small distance away, his head lingering quite closely by yours on your other side.

But considering you’d pined for him for over two years, been admiring him, and been intimidated by him for even longer, it felt like… nothing else. Not to talk about the fact that you got a heavy dose of what he smells like, heavenly by the way, when you breathed in through your nose.

”I- I see it. I think. I’ll be right over. I just- see you later.” You managed to get out before directing your eyes back to Robin and walking quickly towards her. Her eyes were wide and already looking at you, definitely having seen what just happened, your eyes instantly shooting daggers back at her as you knew that Eddie would be able to see her expression if he looked over.

And although she was your safe person you once again couldn’t stop the incessant overthinking going on in your head as you walked towards her.

Eddie must think that you’re terrified of him or something by the way you’ve averted your eyes, stumbled and stuttered your way through the conversation, and the anxious behavior overall. OR he knows, he’s noticed and he knows. Either way; Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

”So, what the hell was that?” Robin asked a teasing grin on her face that probably wouldn’t stop even if you begged her not to smile like that ’because it’s making it obvious’.

”I- uhm… he wants… Eddie- he wants to talk about the party, I think. He’s sort of driving me home.”

”What?”

”You can literally not make a big deal out of this right now, I’m freaking out and he’s probably looking at us or something. I can’t look-” You started ranting, your last few words catching Robin’s attention as she decided to glance his way instead, your hand immediately going up to her jaw to push her eyes back to you ”Robin! You can’t either, are you crazy?”

”Somewhat.”

”What the fuck do I do.”

”You think I know anything about that?”

”I don’t know! Where the fuck is Steve when we need him?” And almost as if summoning a demon, you apparently summoned Steve by just saying his name, his car rolling into the nearest parking spot to you and Robin before quickly half getting out one foot in the car and the other on the asphalt. ”Oh, thank fuck.”

”How did you do that?” Robin chuckled before looking over at Steve. ”Hi Dingus. Look like it’s just going to be the two of us.”

”Really? You don’t need a ride?” Steve asked, directing the first question to Robin before looking at you and tilting his head the way it feels like he always does when asking something.

”Getting a ride by Eddie Munson.” Robin answered, louder than needed and with the same teasing grin as earlier. Throwing her stuff in the back seat before assuming the Steve Harrington Position of one foot in and one foot out.

”I thought you’d never spoken to him before?” Steve questioned, thankfully much softer and not as loud as Robin. You walked closer to the car hoping that fewer people might be interested in the talk the three of you were having and not having to talk as loudly. Or at least not as loudly as Robin thought she needed to for you to hear from that small distance away.

”I haven’t. Not until today, he was sort of waiting on me outside the classroom by the end of my lesson I guess?” And it still felt like one of your dreams or fantasies, although with a lot more anxiety.

”And you’re getting in a car with him?”

”I trust him. I mean hasn’t he like driven Dustin sometime or something? He trusts him too! But uhm… I need… Like- What the hell do I do? Like how do I act?”

”Why are you asking me?”

”Because you know about these sorts of things! I’ve seen you at the video store. C’mon now Harrington, lay it on me, tell me how I’m supposed to act.”

”Haven’t you been there during all the talks we’ve had with Robin about her crush? Be yourself!”

”Yeah fine whatever, but you can’t just do that, right?” The former king of Hawkins High had to have some sort of advice other than the totally cliché thing that Robin had said first.

”What, do you mean flirting?”

”I guess?” Although the nervous feelings from before weren’t gone, you found yourself a lot calmer around Robin and Steve. Eyes not averting as much except looking over at Robin from time to time and once or twice glancing over at the van to see that it’s still there. Just looking at the hulk of the van though and not even daring to look through the front window of the car in fear that you’ll lose all your calm within just a microsecond or something.

”Listen. Calm down. Go sit down in his van and just talk for now. You can save the flirting for when you’re drunk, it’s easier.”

”That last bit sounds sort of like bad advice, but what the hell.”

Robin and Steve drove off and you made your way over to the car, sparing one single glance through the front window to make sure it was Eddie sitting there, which thankfully it was. And thankfully you didn’t lose your complete cool by just looking at him, progress.

”Hi. Sorry that took a while.”

”It’s okay.” Eddie’s answer was short and simple, his voice as smooth in tone as you’d always thought it was. ”That conversation looked intense?” shit

”Uhm… yeah, no. It was nothing.”

”So, not about me?” Eddie questioned that wonderful smile on his face, obviously lightly teasing you. Testing the waters.

”No, no. About the party.” You chuckled back in response with a shake of your head, it wasn’t technically a lie, the party was sort of mentioned. Steve had told you to leave the flirting to the party. Eddie still hadn’t started the car. The two of you talking in the quiet of his van although with the echo of the conversations of students getting out of school just outside.

”I know Harrington doesn’t like me.”

”Harrington doesn’t know you.” It came rushed out before you could even stop yourself, ”Not that- not that I do… I just-”

”No, I get it. That’s… sweet.” Finally, albeit your feelings were a bit mixed over it, he started the car and started getting out of the parking lot, driving out into Hawkins. ”So, about the party. I was thinking that I’m gonna go.”

”Great.”

”Yeah?”

”Do you want to come?”

”Do you want me to come?”

”Yeah. Sure.”

”Could I- You do know about my ’part-time job’, right?” You didn’t know where to look but looking over at him, you found your eyes meeting his just as he was gesturing the quotation marks with his right hand, nodding in response once again. ”Can I sell at your party?”

”Why not? I won’t be- But I don’t mind.” You explained with a shrug and a shake of your head, once again stumbling through your words. Kept your eyes on him for a little while, appreciating the moment whilst you could, and finding out that he glanced over ever so often. But when looking out the front window you realized you were getting pretty close to home. ”Do you know where I live?”

”Everyone’s sort of been shouting your address all over the school the last few days. It would be hard not to.”

”That’s really… uncomfortable honestly. The whole thing of everyone knowing where you live? I felt pretty much invisible before all of this.” You winced, had people at school really been that vocal about a party? ”I won’t get like… weird shit happening to me right?”

”They’ll probably forget as soon as they’re there.”

”Really?”

”Absolutely, you’ll be safe.”

— ~~~ —

”So this is going well so far, right?” You asked with your back leaned up against a wall in the entry hallway next to Robin, drink in your hand. The door stood wide open and ready for the next horde of teenagers to come in and crowd your living room, kitchen, and whatever else they wanted it seemed. ”I mean… we’ve got a crowd, Steve seems pretty happy over there with Heidi or whoever, they all seem to enjoy the music? And I’m like… tipsy for the first time in a long time.”

”You’re past tipsy, but yes. Everything seems pretty good. Except for one thing. You haven’t talked to him.”

”I said hi?” You defended yourself. But you couldn’t even defend yourself that much cause you knew you wanted to, you needed to. If you had been sober you would’ve felt completely ready to go somewhere else and hide from the situation, but the drinks had pulled something out of you. Neediness, something you had both sort of hoped for and dreaded.

Neediness that made your eyes linger on him every time you peeked around the party, neediness that felt like it was pulling at your heart, neediness that felt like it was pulsing through your blood.

”Dude, go and talk to him.”

”Sure, fuck it. Wish me luck.”

”Good luck!” Robin chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder as you separated yourself from the wall.

The living room was completely crowded, just as expected. What you hadn’t expected, however, was the way most of the people in the living room still hung out in their cliques. Sure they weren’t all in their separate little groups, some were on what had become the dance floor not giving a shit, some were playing drinking games whilst sitting on the couch, and all in all, it wasn’t that bad.

But the basketball team was almost standing in a line, all in their letterman jackets as if the jacket was a uniform. Stood all together as if they were trying to intimidate the whole party. Meanwhilst, the seniors of the group they call freaks were all spread across the room, none of them in their hellfire shirts.

”That looks weird, right?” An icebreaker was always a reliable way to enter a conversation. At least that’s what you hoped for when you came up to Eddie, gesturing towards the team. ”It looks almost horror movie-esque.”

”Yeah definitely.” He laughed out, and just like you and Robin had leaned against a wall in the hallway, you leaned against a wall with Eddie Munson. What you hoped was one of the normal positions at a party that wasn’t sitting or being in the way of others. ”You’re okay with them being here though?”

”Yeah it’s fine. At least I know who they are, if any of them breaks a lamp… I know whose parents to call.” Popping the ’p’ and sighing a little before averting your eyes from the team and instead to Eddie who definitely seemed to be in a laughing mood. Looking away from him a second later though when you realized that you currently couldn’t look at his eyes this closely without your mouth just slightly opening. ”I’m not like that uncomfortable with it but… there are a lot of people here that I feel like I don’t know.”

”You know me.”

”Do I?” It felt like it was just minutes ago when you had sort of excused yourself by saying that you didn’t know him in his car.

”Eddie Munson, Freak of Hawkins High. Nice to meet you.” He stretched out his hand with a smug grin on his face. With a playful tone in his voice and expressing a demeanor you’d only seen from afar before. You took his hand without much of a second thought but almost froze up when you could feel the rings on his fingers. The rings almost shocked you as if something knocked on your brain and just reminded you that this was Eddie Munson. The Eddie Munson.

”Oh, you’re that guy, well of course.” You teased with a chuckle, playing along.

”Told you that you knew me!” He chuckled and clapped his hands together once after your little shake. ”Y’know Dustin was talking so much about the party I thought he was gonna come here. That he was dropping hints that he wanted me to chaperone him to his first party or something.”

”Really?” You might have to smack the back of Dustin’s head a little next time you see him… ”Is that why you came?”

”No… Not at all.” Eddie remarked calmly, holding eye contact with you whilst he said it but then moved his eyes to look over the party around the two of you. ”Could we get away from this for a while?”

”For sure.”

You tried going outside at first but there were a lot of people outside too. People who’d probably had the same thought as Eddie. To get some air or just get away from being surrounded by people for a second or two at least.

”I have an idea.” You said before without a thought taking his hand in yours and leading him to the kitchen. Opened one of the drawers, and there they were; the key you’d locked the bedrooms with and a bag of snacks you’d saved for either when everyone left or for when you felt you needed to retreat to your bedroom. Almost like this moment turned out. Except you’d thought it would just be you, going up into your room, changing clothes and eating snacks, and then falling asleep.

Took the key, took the snacks, filled up your drink, and walked upstairs with Eddie in tow. As soon as Eddie made it into the room as well you shut the door as quickly as possible, set down your things and walked over to the windows, and opened them. Letting the fresh air in, but also thankfully some background noise. Took your things again and slumped down next to your bed, using it as a backrest.

”Better?”

”Much.” Eddie chuckled, his also refilled drink stretched out to toast with yours, ”Cheers.”

”Cheers.” He was sitting close enough for you to feel the heat of him radiating off of him once again. If he was so warm all the time you had no clue how the hell he constantly had on that leather jacket and jean vest combo. But you weren’t going to complain about any of that.

”I didn’t bring my stash.”

”Huh?”

”The… I asked if I could sell, y’know the other day. But… I didn’t bring it.”

”I don’t want to buy or anything-”

”No, you’re- I just… I didn’t want to sell. I just wanted to be here.” Eddie admitted with a sigh as if he absolutely needed to tell you that. His ’here’ sounded as if he really meant here, alone with you.

”That’s… sweet.” You chuckled as you heard yourself practically quoting him from the other day. Your heart felt as if it was going to beat its way out of you. And as a distraction… you decided to make it so much harder on yourself. Pulling your legs closer to yourself before picking up his closest arm and resting it on your angled lap as you decided to get a closer look at the tattoo near his elbow. Angling your knees slightly more in towards him as you stroked your fingers over the bats that decorated his skin.

You knew his eyes were on you as you started to trace them with one of your hands, whilst the one closest to him sort of just supported his arm. Or at least that’s only what it was doing until he took that hand in his own. However, you still didn’t dare look at him just yet. But you could still feel how close his head was to yours, how close you truly were now.

Your breathing had become kind of heavy, mostly in anticipation. This certainly felt like something was about to happen. And surprisingly you found yourself being the one to make it happen. Looked at him and took a deep breath in before you picked up your hand that had now just rested over his tattoo and guided it to his jaw instead. And then guided him to you.

Turns out, that having a crush on Eddie Munson leads to pretty amazing things. Like seeing the way he looked at you before you kissed. Feeling his free hand rest on one of your knees and guide them even closer to him. And the harsh feeling of several years of crushing on him, being intimidated by him, and admiring him softened severely.

”I’ve been wanting that for… too long.” Eddie sighed out dreamily once the two of you parted, which almost made you laugh in his face.

”You? I’ve been-” You started before your eyes widened and started over, ”Yeah no… way too long.” Your head bumped gently down on his shoulder forehead first and rested it there.

”What were you going to say?” His voice was quite hushed still but you could hear the smug and happy tone in it so clearly. Although he seemed to try not to sound so obvious.

”I uhm… I’ve sort of had this crush on you… for a while.”

”Really?”

”Yep.”

”Dustin trying to convince me to go makes a lot more sense now.” Eddie chuckled although his voice sounded more confused than enlightened. ”I sort of… figured out it was something behind it but I didn’t believe it when he said it was Steve who’d asked him to. I never figured out that there was a chain of command.”

”Oh god. Sorry. I was just… I didn’t think you’d come with the way the basketball team pretty much yelled their acceptance of the invite. And… y’know, crush. So I figured it was worth a try.” You shrugged lightly and placed your chin on his shoulder instead so you could look at him. Those big soft brown eyes looked right back at you.

”I was gonna come anyway.”

”Well I didn’t know that.”

”But now you do.”

[clovermunson]

early morning [e. munson]

author’s note: the eddie brain rot still reigns supreme, and this is the hard-evidence proof of it, you wonderful little internet cryptids that make this hellsite go 'round. a domestic bliss eddie fluff fic idea would just not leave me alone until i sat down and wrote it, so the result of it is this quick little mess of a fic. boyfriend eddie just lives in my mind rent-free and somehow managed to pull me out of me writer’s block. this fic isn’t much, but it’s honest work lmao as always likes and reblogs (especially reblogs!!) are very much appreciated. however, i ask that you please do not repost my work and claim it as your own!! —morgan🖤

warnings: very vague mentions of recurring nightmares and trauma from previous adventures in the upside down, mentions of food and eating, eddie being a dork, tooth-rotting fluff, this could’ve been a much better written fic if my brain would just fucking woooork

pairings: eddie munson x reader (no specific pronouns are used, but certian descriptions can really be taken any way you want them to be— first time really writing something that’s gender neutral so please excuse any errors!!)

word count: *1.4k

tags: @ardent-musings (because i know you’re a sucker for domestic bliss eddie)

The early morning sunlight peeked through the blinds and curtains, illuminating your features in such a way that Eddie was completely and utterly mesmerized by them. It wasn’t often that he woke up before you, but when he did, he always found himself in awe with you.

He couldn’t help but memorize every small detail of your features, from the way your lips curved up into a tiny smile every now and then to how the light freckles danced across the bridge of your nose and your cheeks. Despite the mess of blankets and pillows that your shared bed was, the scene in front of his eyes looked absolutely perfect.

You looked so peaceful that Eddie was afraid he’d barely move and disturb your slumber— something he didn’t want to do since you now had recurring nightmares after everything you’ve both been through, causing you to lose the much needed rest.

Carefully, Eddie sat up in the bed, gently throwing the covers off of his body so he could quietly leave the room and begin making breakfast for you, a quick, yet brilliant little whim he’d had that he thought could make your morning even just a little bit better.

He padded his way to the kitchen, careful to avoid the one creaky floorboard in the hallway. Once there, he began rummaging through the cabinets and fridge to find everything he’d need to make your favorite breakfast— pancakes with fresh strawberries, syrup, and whipped cream.

“C’mon, this can’t be that difficult, right?” Eddie mumbled to himself as he read the instructions on the box of pancake mix, “Easy stuff.”

He set the box on the counter, grabbing a mixing bowl from the lower cabinet, pouring the pancake mix into it before adding the necessary ingredients and whisking it until it was a smooth batter.

Using a measuring cup, he scooped roughly the entire ⅓ cup of batter, carefully pouring it into the skillet that was already heating on the stove.

“Shit, almost forgot.” Eddie muttered, grabbing a spatula from the utensil jar.

After a couple of minutes, he skillfully flipped the pancake over, the cooked side perfectly done. Eddie took a minute to admire his own handiwork before lightly pressing the spatula against it to ensure it evenly cooked.

Within a few minutes, he’d already made four pancakes for himself, topping them with a little bit of whipped cream, syrup, and some chocolate chips that he’d gotten from the bag you kept in the cabinet. He began making four more pancakes for you, making sure they all turned out perfect as well.

Eddie reached over to the utensil drawer to grab a fork for you, but he pulled it open with just a little too much vigor, causing it to fall right off of the track, and onto the kitchen floor. He let out an exasperated sigh, thankful that he at least managed to grab a fork before everything fell.

“Shit shit shit.” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper as he frantically turned to see the mess to his side. “Goddamnit.”

The clattering of metal against the tile floor of the kitchen had stirred you from your slumber. Upon waking, you’d immediately noticed that Eddie wasn’t in bed.

“That was definitely Eddie.” You yawned, stretching your arms out and over your head as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. Your eyes focused on the clock, reading 7:15 AM. You felt a slight shiver as the cool air of your home hit your skin, the thin pajama top and shorts you wore weren’t offering much warmth on their own.

You yawned once more before finally heading to the kitchen to see what was going on, but stopped at the end of the hallway that opened into the living room and kitchen area.

The mess of utensils still laid on the floor beside Eddie, as he’d taken the time to make a little whipped cream and strawberry smiley face on your pancakes, hoping it would help ease any tension he may have caused if he had accidentally woken you up.

“Eds?” You asked, voice still sleepy and slightly raspy. “Everything okay in here?”

“Huh?” Eddie turned around, his mouth hung slightly open in surprise, yet he was still just as amazed by you even when you’d just woken up and didn’t look the least bit presentable to the world yet.

“Oh, uh…yeah. Yeah! Everything’s fine.” He sheepishly smiled, “just making breakfast.”

“And a mess?” You asked, a giggle escaping your lips as you eyed the mess of spoons, forks, and butter knives on the floor.

“Yeah…” Eddie muttered, “guess I just pulled the drawer open with a little too much force and it just…fell out.” He chuckled, shrugging.

Your heart couldn’t help but get warm and fuzzy at the scene in front of you, Eddie’s hair in its usual wild state, his various tattoos all on display from his choice of not wearing a shirt to bed or putting one on when he woke up, the dark green and white plaid pajama pants that he wore almost religiously since you’d given them to him last Christmas hugging a little snugly against his hips. The feeling was only amplified by Eddie holding out the plate of pancakes to you, a goofy grin plastered on his face as he did so.

“Does the strawberry smiley make up for it?” He bashfully asked, hoping he hadn’t angered you even in the slightest.

“You’re safe for now, Munson.” You giggled, making your way over to the small dining area of your kitchen, “even though it’s still entirely too early.”

“Well.” Eddie rushed over, pulling out a chair for you. It was a habit for him ever since you first showed up during a Hellfire campaign, and he’d be damned if he just stopped being chivalrous to you. “at least I didn’t sleep in until noon, right?”

All you could do was smile and shake your head as you sat down and Eddie pushed your chair in.

“Who would’ve ever guessed that Eddie Munson, famed Dungeon Master of the Hellfire club would be such a master chef.” You teased as he set the plate of pancakes down in front of you, quickly returning with his own to sit across from you.

“Only for you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before taking his seat, “if the rest of the guys knew about this, they’d practically be burning me at the stake with all the teasing.”

“Maybe I should get you a little ‘kiss the cook’ apron then, hm?” You hummed, teasing your boyfriend as you took a small bite of your breakfast.

“Don’t you dare.” Eddie cracked a smile, the dimple on his left cheek showing prominently.

“Awe c’mon!” You fake-whined, “it would look so cute on you though.”

“Nope.” Eddie shook his head as he began eating, “nope. Still not happening.”

You felt a smile begin to part your lips, and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that accompanied it.

“Okay, fine. I won’t get you an apron.” You held your hands up in surrender before licking the little bit of syrup from your fork so it wouldn’t make a mess.

“But…” Eddie drawled, teasing you in retaliation, “you could buy me something like a ‘greatest boyfriend ever’ t-shirt and I’d wear that. Just an idea, y’know.”

“Oh yeah.” You nodded, playing along with him, “you’d definitely look cute in that. But you don’t need a shirt to prove that fact.” Your tone shifted to a more serious one, even though you knew Eddie would still joke around.

“But the shirt would be a nice little notice for everyone else.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair, “plus it’ll let everyone know I’m spoken for if they didn’t know it already.”

“Alright Mr. Munson, calm down over there.” You giggled again, gesturing to the pile of utensils and the drawer that still laid on the floor, “who’s gonna clean up that mess?”

“I’ll get it after breakfast and you can just go back to bed if you want to.” Eddie chuckled, “you can sleep in until noon today.” He finished his breakfast, offering to take your empty plate to the sink for you.

“I love you.” You made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back as he rinsed the plates, “I’ll be waiting for you.” You slowly pulled away from him, giving him a playful smirk as you made your way back to the bedroom.

“I love you too, angel.” Eddie called after you, smiling to himself as he turned off the faucet and gathered the mess of silverware, wondering just exactly how he’d gotten so lucky to have you.