#and here at the bottom of my tags I will add that holy fuck they have an hp collection and god it’s all so beautiful I’m so mad jkr is such

[applecherry108]

This Saturday’s rabbit hole has been checking out the American Girl catalogue for the first time in years and being enamored with all the beautiful outfits and play sets. Unfortunately, I am not immune to Shiny Red Christmas things, which is 90% the appeal for me for looking at AG stuff. The other 10% is nostalgia from the early 2000s of looking at the shiny red Christmas AG stuff. XD

Anyways look at this beautiful doll.

She’s $300. That’s absurd. She’s so beautiful. I don’t want her. I want that outfit for myself. 😂

[leiawritesstories]

PROMPT:

leia my love i DARE you

I LEGIT LAUGHED SO HARD MARIA BAHAHA here you go love <3 ;)

word count: 611

warnings: swearing, innuendo, artistic depiction of 🍆

let's add this to the @throneofglassmicrofics March challenge! using the prompts "Accident" and "Chaos" hehe enjoyyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snatching a few seconds to gasp in a breath as the madness of the morning rush died down, Aelin wiped her hands on her apron and brushed loose strands of hair away from her face. She washed her hands quickly and returned to the coffee bar just as Lysandra stuck her head into the back room and hollered for her.

"Calm down, Lyssie!" Aelin yelled back, laughing. "I'm right here."

"Someone asked for you," Lys singsonged, wiggling her brows aggressively.

Aelin rolled her eyes. "You'd think we were fifteen, not twenty-three."

"We're so mature." Lys smirked and bumped her hip into Aelin's. "Now go take your man's order."

Aelin strolled up to the counter, grinning as she met Rowan's bright, amused gaze. "Hey. What can I get you?"

"Well, since you aren't on the menu, I'll take a cappuccino." The slow wink he gave her did bad, bad things to her heartbeat.

She lowered her lashes and peeked up, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth the way she knew drove her boyfriend wild. "I'm all up for grabs at four, you know."

"Oh, I know." He smirked as he pulled his credit card from his wallet. She tapped in his order, and he paid and sauntered down to wait by the pick-up window.

"You should put special art on his cappuccino," Lys said as she finished up the iced lattes she was working on.

"Like a heart? Bitch, please."

"Oh no." Lys's smirk turned positively wicked. "A dick."

"Lysandra Ennar!" Aelin yelped, swatting the brunette with a towel. "What the hell?!"

"Bitch, you know you want to." Lys's eyebrow wiggle returned, even more aggressive than earlier. "You could even draw it to scale."

Aelin laughed so hard she had to brace her hands on the countertop to keep herself upright. "Holy shit, Lys!" She wheezed as she caught her breath. "Alright. Watch this." She sped through the motions of pulling the espresso shot and steaming up some milk, and then she carefully cradled the ceramic cup in her left hand and began pouring the steamed milk with her right.

When the foam rose to the top, she carefully turned the mug, made a sort of sideways heart shape, and dragged the point of the heart downwards. Then she rotated the mug, and, starting from the point of the upside-down heart, poured a careful pattern of foam in a precise, nearly straight line with a slight wobble. She finished off the crown with a little blob, artfully smearing it so it looked like, well...

"Someone's happy to see you," Lys snickered.

Aelin cackled as she set down the cappuccino. "Ro, love, here's your drink." She spun the cup so that the thick, long dick painted in white foam stood erect.

"Thanks, Ae--what the fuck?!" Rowan spluttered, gaping at the drink. His tan face flushed an endearingly bright shade of crimson, his eyes darting rapidly between the dick-uccino and Aelin's bright, wicked grin.

"Not quite large enough for you, love?"

"Aelin," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands and scrubbing at his blushing face. "No, it's the perfect size."

She snickered. "Good to know. I have quite the model." Her gaze flicked south.

He laughed as he grabbed a stir stick and stirred his cappuccino, dissolving her work of art. "Don't think you've heard the last of this, love." Heat simmered in his eyes.

"Is that a promise?"

Rowan's stare, blazingly hot, snapped to hers. "When you're begging me to let you come, love, just remember this--you got me hard in a very public place." He strolled off to a table, leaving her flushed and speechless behind the bar.

Well.

Damn.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XIV: Away To Nowhere Plains

nav | master list | playlist | pin board | chapter XIII

summary: a welcome home party in hawkins, a break from the whirlwind of rock n roll fame.

tags/warning: flirting, consumption of alcohol, weed, swearing, normal chill stuff nothing insane, LOTS of use of Y/n sorry guys nicknames are for couples!!!!! slow burn, mutual pining, tension as per usual

a/n: I MISSED YOU GUYS. i’m so sorry this took so long to update, i was following paramore around the east coast for a few weeks like a crazy person. should be posting waaaay more regularly now. please enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. please reblog and comment to support the author!

—

December 1986

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you wake, Eddie’s pretty face slowly coming into focus. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?” His voice is soft, soothing to your ears.

“Better this time around. I think you chased the nightmare off, I dreamt of you instead.” You weren’t planning on telling him, you blame your fatigue for the confession.

“Yeah? Was it hot?” He jokes, and you bite your bottom lip because yeah, it definitely was. “It was, wasn’t it?!” Eddie hops out of bed and starts pacing the floor. “Let me guess, we were somewhere cool, like the woods. We were camping! Yeah, and you forgot your tent, so we had to share, and bing bang boom we’re waking up the wildlife.” He looks back to you, eager for your confession.

You cackle at his guess. “Not even close, man. You were a fucking rockstar. Got up on stage at The Garden, and everyone was there for you. Kicked some fucking ass, might I add.” You leave the part where you jumped on stage out, not wanting to give Eddie any ideas for future Corroded Coffin shows.

“Can I tell you something?” He plops back down next to you, shaking the bed. “Remember the party? When you told me the band could be something, and I told you that was never really the plan?” You nod, and he sighs, “Well. I was lying. It’s been the only thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. What you said meant a lot to me, and I wanted to believe you, but we’d just met, and I wasn’t sure if you were being serious or if you wanted to get in my pants.” He grins, and you know he’s joking.

“It was both, obviously!” You backhand him, and he fakes being hurt. “But mostly the former, I really meant it. I do mean it! You’re talented, you’ve got a great group of friends.”. You open your arms, and he scoops you into his, wrapping his legs around your waist like a koala. He mumbles something into your neck, sounding embarrassed. “What was that?”

He removes his head from your shoulder. With his legs still curled around you, he grasps you by the shoulders, as if to steady your already unmoving frame. He looks deeply into your eyes, and though he looks exhausted, he is absolutely stunning. You fight everything in you to jump him there, forget about a night out with friends, and just ravage the boy in your arms all night instead.

“I love you.”

You swear your heart stops. In fact, you are definitely dead. You died, flew into some deluded version of Catholic Heaven where you get everything you want, no consequence. Eddie tries to read your expression, and you hope to god he can because you sure don’t know what the fuck to feel. “You don’t have to say it back, in fact, don’t. Not yet. But I mean it.”

“I-“ Eddie cuts you off with a kiss, and you let him. You close the tiny gap between his chest and yours, and kiss him to convey all the feelings your words aren’t capable of.

“Now, put on something sexy, we’re going out tonight.” Eddie rolls off of you, snatching his towel from his chair on the way out of the room.

Holy shit.

-

Your POV

“Is anyone here to pick us up?” You ask, linking your arm with Steve’s as you exit into the terminal. The airport is bustling with families on their way to Disneyworld and Martha’s Vineyard for their summer vacations, meanwhile you’re about to spend a week in one of the most traumatizing towns of your young adulthood.

“Yeah, Nance and Jonathan are- and speak of the devil!”

Nancy and Jonathan approach from the other side of your gate, and you take off running. Nance catches you in her embrace, squeezing you tightly as you fall into her arms. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, keeping your old friend close.

“Hi, honey! It’s so nice to see you!” When she lets you go, you move to hug Jonathan as Robin and Steve say their hellos. Eddie and the guys are further back, sending waves to them. Nancy doesn’t accept that, though, and throws herself into Eddie. “Hey, Ed.” She mumbles into his shoulder.

-

Eddie’s POV

“Hey, Nance. Long time.”

“Too long!” She separates herself from him and backhands his chest. “Visit more!”

Eddie scoffs. “Hey, you’re in Boston now, don’t give me that shit!”

“Sure, but I come home every summer. I know you’re big and famous, but this is still your home!”

“How is the big guy?” He’s talking about Dustin, eyes betraying a glimpse of who Eddie used to be.

“He’s good. He misses you. We didn’t tell him, or any of them actually, that you were coming.” Nancy’s shy, suddenly.

“Because we weren’t sure if you actually were.” Jonathan explains, and Eddie nods, pressing his lips together. It makes sense, he’s made plenty of empty promises to visit already, only finally pulling himself together because of you.

“But you did! You came! Both of you came, which is even crazier. But it’s great! We’re having a party tonight, Steve’s hosting, we can all drive over together.” Nancy blurts, her mind moving faster than her mouth can.

“A party?” You ask, voice raising an octave higher than it usually sits. You sound nervous.

“Well, what us casual folk consider a party. You guys will probably see it as a pathetic attempt at one.”

“Oh, please!” Steve interjects, “My parties are never pathetic. I was the king!”

Eddie groans dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, man. We know, you peaked in high school.”

“I did not.” Steve crosses his arms, and your laugh draws Eddie’s attention back to you.

“I for one would love a Hawkins style party.” You add finally, a real smile spread across your face. “It’ll be nice to see everyone.”

Nancy nods, taking your carry on from your grasp. “Great! Let’s get you settled.”

“Did you book us a hotel? Eddie asks, surprised. That’s above any level of friendship he’s had with these two specifically.

They both laugh. “A hotel? You’re staying with us!” Oh, fuck.

—

Your POV

“So, my parents happen to be away for the week you’re all here,” Nancy starts, unlocking the door to her childhood home, a building that housed many a party, many a D&D game. “so we have it to ourselves! The couches up here and downstairs, the guest room, and obviously Robin and Y/n will be sleeping with me, to catch me up on the Hollywood Gossip.” Nancy winks at you, and you smile. You’ve missed her, missed Hawkins, despite everything.

“When are the kids getting here?” You ask. You mean Max, specifically. You owe her some money. Eddie and the guys make their way downstairs before Nancy answers,

“They’re at Dustin’s, they’ll be over later today. Something about needing to catch up on the news?”

You bring your palm to your face. “Shit. I was gonna tell you over drinks, lots and lots of drinks, but uh, there’s a rumor flying around that Eddie and I are, y’know,” You trail off, fidgeting like an embarrassed child.

Nancy brings her manicured hand to her open mouth, quick to hide her pity. (It doesn’t work.) “Oh, god. Are you? Sorry, that was rude. How are you handling it?”

You laugh, unfazed by her curiosity. “I don’t really know what we are right now,”

“So you’re something?” She smirks.

You roll your eyes. “We’ll always be something.”

She shrugs, a truce. “What are you gonna tell them? Tell Dustin? You know how he gets.”

You shake your head. “That’s Eddie’s problem.”

Nancy chirps a laugh, placing your suitcase at the end of her bed, and Robin’s backpack beside it. “Fair enough. But didn’t Max bet you the break up wouldn’t last?”

You snort, “Yeah, I owe the kid fifty bucks.”

“If I’d known we were putting money on it, I’d be freaking rich!” Robin teases, and you try to smother your grin. She’s right, she’d been betting on you and Eddie reconciling for the past two years.

“Sorry, Bob. Ya snooze, ya lose!”

“Speaking of snoozing, I need a nap before this party. Pretty sure I broke my neck on the plane.”

-

Nancy rouses you and Robin from your slumbers gently, shaking your shoulders while whispering that “It’s time to get up, rockstars!” The time on her old alarm clock blinks 4:15PM, both you and Robin had slept the day away. You take your time getting up, stretching your limbs slowly as your eyes adjust to the sunlight, streaming through the blinds. Your stomach growls loudly, and Nancy chuckles. “Pizza’s on the way! We’ll eat before we go to Steve’s. For now, though, go get dressed. Remember your bathing suits!” She’s in Mom mode, taking care of you and Robin while running around like a crazy person.

You dig through your suitcase, coming up empty handed. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes you do!” She takes your suitcase from you, pulling out the skimpy bikini from beneath your piles of clothing. It’s black with cherries on it, and teeny tiny. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It’s a cute bikini, but it’s super inappropriate to be wearing around the kids.

Robin seems to read your mind, though. “They’re all adults now, y/n. You don’t need to walk around in a mumu. Plus,” she wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, “we both know who’ll love this number.”

You groan, snatching the fabric from her grip. “Fine! But you have to wear your yellow one. I’m not gonna be the only one walking around almost-naked.”

She giggles, agreeing. “Doesn’t bother me!” She finds her suit in her backpack and leaves the room to let you change.

-

Eddie’s POV

“So, why are we staying here if we’re having the party at your place?” Eddie asks before biting into his pizza.

“Because Nancy insisted on staying here, but she can’t host a party to save her life. Plus, I have a pool.”

“Your parents have a pool. You live in a tiny apartment in Seattle with two other people.”

Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder. “Man, shut up. At least I have friends to live with.” Eddie’s face falls, and Steve notices immediately. “I’m sorry. That was too far.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright, you’re not exactly wrong.” He’s glad he’s not home right now, it gets lonely there. The thought of seeing all of his friends again, though, is still overwhelming him. He has no idea what he’ll say to Dustin, or worse, what Dustin will say to him.

Before Eddie can panic further, though, you and Robin enter the kitchen. You’re in shorts and a tight black t-shirt, the strings of your bikini visible underneath. Your short hair is clipped to keep it out of your face, the vibrant color having faded since the beginning of the tour. You send a small smile his way, melting Eddie’s insecurities, even temporarily. He can’t seem to peel his eyes from you as you walk over to the counter, helping yourself to a slice of pizza. He has to fight the urge to walk over to you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his head on your shoulder. It practically pains him, when you’re out of his reach.

“Eds?” You snap him out of his trance, waving a hand in front of him.

“What?” He shakes his head, as if to rid the image from his brain. “Sorry.”

You grin shyly, and Eddie could melt at the sight. “I asked if you’re ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m all set.”

Your smile widens, and you hold your hand out for him. He takes it, expecting you to drag him out to the car, but you pull him hooking, hooking your arm around his. “Okay, then. Shall we?”

He can feel the eyes of the room on the pair of you, his cheeks warming. You don’t seem to notice, only looking up at him, your eyes shiny and warm.

-

Mere hours later, Steve’s parents’ house is full and loud, music bumping through the surround sound speakers. Eddie’s in the kitchen nursing a beer when Dustin enters. He’s grown taller and more muscular since the last time Eddie’s seen him, and the beginnings of a beard pepper his face, making him look more like a man than the last time he’d seem the boy. Susie’s on his arm, smiling kindly when she meets Eddie’s eyes. “You wanna drink, Dusty?” She asks sweetly, and Dustin nods. She exits the kitchen, leaving the boys alone.

“What’s up, Dusty?” Eddie tries to joke, extending his hand for Dustin to shake. He swats it away, instead pulling Eddie into a much needed hug.

“Hey, Eddie.” His greeting is muffled by Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie returns the hug without shame, wrapping his arms around Dustin’s shoulders. The two stay like that, long lost brothers seeing each other for the first time in years.

“Missed you, man.” Eddie finally says when Dustin breaks the hug, holding Eddie at arm’s length. “You're lookin’ great.”

“I’ve been hittin’ the gym a little, check this out,” Dustin flexes a bicep, the beginnings of muscle protruding from his arm. Eddie chuckles, nodding an approval.

When the small talk dies, neither speaks at first, unsure of where to take the conversation besides the elephant in the room. “How’s tour treating you?” Dustin finally asks, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Susie returns with two sodas, handing one to Dustin and sipping the other.

Eddie shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. “It’s been alright, pretty standard stuff.”

Dustin chuckles, and the sound is deeper than Eddie’s used to. “Standard, huh? Touring with the ex love of your life?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right to the point, huh?”

“Obviously, man! I haven’t seen you in years, and the one time you come back, it’s with all this new information I’m not aware of! You know I hate being out of the loop!”

“I know, and I owe you a lot of information. Trust me, I wanna tell you everything,” Before Eddie can continue, you’re stumbling into the kitchen, giggling drunkenly with Robin as you wobble to the coolers in the corner.

“Hi, boys! Oh my god, it can’t be. Is that Dustin freaking Henderson?!” You gasp dramatically, pulling a big smile from Dustin as he approaches you. You swing your arms around his neck, having to get on tiptoes now to reach him. He wraps his arms around you, and you sway as you hug him tightly.

“Hey, Y/n.” He greets warmly, then releases you to hug Robin with the same welcoming arms. “Hi, Bob.”

“Hey, buddy.” Robin hums, rubbing Dustin’s back as she hugs him closely.

“Sorry to interrupt, I know you guys have a lot of catching up to do. But we’re about to play chicken, and I need a partner.” You look from Dustin to where Eddie is, leaning against the counter, opening his fourth beer of the night.

“What, me?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously, silly. C’mon! It’ll be fun.” You’re wasted, eyes glazed over and posture loose. It’s impossible to say no to you.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay!” You sing, hooking your arm through Robins again. The two of you exit the kitchen, into the back yard. Eddie can’t look away as you peel your shirt over your head, revealing a tiny black bikini top.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Munson.” Dustin taunts as Eddie pulls his stare from your silhouette.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell me that is how friends look at each other,” He mimicks Eddie, staring open mouthed at the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s pathetic!”

“This is why I haven’t come back here, Henderson.” Eddie teases, backhanding the kid’s stomach. “Can’t deal with your know-it-all bullshit.”

Dustin snorts a laugh. “Hey, man, I'm just callin’ it like I see it.”

-

Your POV

You dip your toes into the cool water while you wait, letting the feeling contrast with the alcohol induced warmth of your body. You feel a presence sit next to you, another pair of feet meeting yours under the water.

“Hey, kiddo.” You greet her, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“What’s up, big shot?” Max leans her head on yours, her way of hugging you without committing to it. She looks the same, despite being a little taller, and maybe her hair’s gotten a little longer.

“Oh, y’know. Same old.”

She snorts. “Word on the street is you owe me some money.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get that to you this week. Nice to see you, too.”

“Hey! It is nice to see you! I haven’t in a while, I’m sorry.” Max wraps her arms around your shoulders. “I missed you, y’know.”

“I missed you too, Maxie. How are things?”

“They’re alright. I don’t live here anymore, that’s a big plus.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. “Moved out after college, got a place in the city with Lucas. I’ll show you some time this week maybe?”

You nod. “For sure.”

“But enough about my endeavors, how are you? Y’know, with all this shit going on?”

You shake your head. “I dunno, dude. Weird, I guess. Everything’s weird.”

“I take it you and Eddie aren’t officially back together, then?”

“Not exactly. But not, not together. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all. Good to see you two haven’t changed too much.”

You giggle, nudging her shoulder with yours. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, c’mon! You two used to dance around the idea of dating before you started. You think we didn’t notice? I was fifteen, not stupid! It took you so much time to admit you liked each other, then even more time to figure out you needed to break up. Now here we are again, watching Eddie and Y/n tiptoe around their feelings for each other.”

You sigh, the alcohol not letting you fully grasp what she’s saying. “I hate when you’re right.”

She grins smugly. “I know, and I’m sorry. It happens a lot.”

Before you can respond, Eddie throws the screen door open. “Who’s ready to play some chicken?” He’s very drunk, but not in the sad and angry way you’re used to seeing him lately.

Max gives you another grin, and you roll your eyes before getting to your feet. “You’re in for it now, team Scoops.” You point across the pool, where Robin and Steve stand in their bathing suits discussing strategy. Eddie shoves his pants to the ground, revealing a too small pair of swim trunks you're sure have belonged to him since freshman year. He tugs his shirt over his head, discarding it with his pants in the grass. You do your best not to stare at the tattoos scattered on his torso, littering his arms. You refuse to look further than his chest, not risking even a glance at his waist, his hips. Instead of gawking like you want to, you pay close attention to undoing the button of your cutoff shorts, shimmying out of them and tossing them onto the chair beside you.You’re completely exposed, standing only in the tiniest bikini you own because it was the only one you could find before leaving.

As much as you don’t want to draw his attention, the feeling of Eddie’s eyes on your body surges your confidence. Without looking back, you get into the pool, taking each step slowly to adjust to the temperature. It’s fairly warm, and you say a quick thank you prayer. You definitely cannot be walking around with pointy nips right now. Eddie wades in behind you, splashing you in his wake, steps clumsy. Once he’s settled, he turns to face you, squatting so the water reaches his chest.

“You ready, sweetheart?” You try not to seem fazed by his slip. He stopped calling you that after you broke up, and the only times he has since then, he’s apologized for it. Now, though, with his guard down and his judgment obscured, he smirks at you like he knows what he’s just done. You pretend you don’t get it.

“Sure thing, Munson.” No pretty boy, not even this drunk. He’s not yours, not now.

If he notices, he doesn’t let it show, keeping the same expression as he motions you forward. You’ve done this hundreds of times, over the course of the few summers you had in Hawkins. You and Eddie used to drive over on Fridays and stay the weekend with Rob, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, babysitting the kids and enjoying your time as immature adults while you still could. It feels the same, even after all those years have passed, you’re still in the same small town, with the same group of friends, playing the same stupid games. You climb onto his shoulders, and try not to react when his hands grasp tightly on each thigh, locked on either side of his head.

“Alright, listen up!” Dustin has gathered the rest of your friends beside the pool, while scattered guests you barely remember from your semester in high school crowd around to spectate. “This is Drown The Chicken. The first person to fall off of their partner loses. There will be three rounds, each one five minutes. A shot of liquor will be taken by the loser after each round. If both opponents fail to knock the other off of their partner, a tiebreaker will take place. Today, the tie breaker will be…” He pauses for dramatic effect, and Mike takes the opportunity to slap his legs in a drumroll. “A shotgun race!” The whole backyard cheers, and you groan. The worst thing about these kids being in college, is that they’re too young to realize drinking is not the only thing adults do. It is one of the most fun, though.

“Both members of each team will shotgun a malt beverage of their choosing. First one to finish wins the tiebreaker for their team, and therefore the round! At the end, the losers will have to drink a shot of the winners’ choosing!” The four of you nod in understanding. Regardless, you know you’ll have to drink at some point. “On your mark, get set, GO!” Will clicks his timer, and the party guests start cheering, egging you on. You hear shouts of, “I’ve got ten on Munson and L/n!” and “Kick his ass!” and Robin reaches for you suddenly, catching you off guard. The music is cranked through the speakers, giving the match a soundtrack of Pixies’ Here Comes Your Man. Steve wades toward you, Robin clutching a handful of his precious hair to keep her balance. You take advantage of his winces of “Ouch, Rob, not the hair!” and shove, sending Robin almost entirely backwards. Steve catches her at the last second, wobbling as he tries to keep her out of the water.

“Lucky shot!” Robin shouts, stretching her arms out toward you. You lean back, and Eddie catches you, gripping your thighs tightly on his shoulders. He moves with you, saving your equilibrium, and you stretch towards Robin. The two of you tangle your arms, while the boys below you swat at each other, hurling meaningless insults and taunts. Finally, you gain the advantage, shoving Robin’s shoulder with enough force to send her backwards, slipping quickly from Steve’s grasp. She splashes into the water, submerged up to her neck. “Shit.”

“That’s one for team Hellfire!” Dustin claps his hands loudly as he hands your opponents each a shot, and you giggle as Robin struggles to climb back onto Steve’s back, their skin now slippery with pool water.

“Nice moves.” Eddie cranes his neck, and you meet his eyes. His face is soft with intoxication, his guard lowered. Yours is higher than ever, though, and you look away before he can reel you in any further.

“Round two!” You repeat the motions, this time while Smells Like Teen Spirit blares from the radio, and your former classmates yelling and cheering for their preferred team. Robin catches you by surprise, kicking one of your knees enough to throw you off balance, then shoving you to the side. You topple off of Eddie’s shoulders, into the cool water. You stay there for a second, keeping your eyes closed to avoid looking at Eddie’s surely disappointed expression.

But when you dare to peek through one eye, the other still tightly shut, he’s smiling at you. Not his usual toothy grin, the one he gives to his friends. His smile is soft, lips pressed together as if to stop them from quivering with a rogue giggle.

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. You have to remember he’s drunk.

“What now, Munson?!” Steve sends a splash at Eddie, and he scoffs in mock disgust.

“Boys, please, you’ll have plenty of time to play mermaids after Eddie and I kick your ass.” Eddie giggles as you climb his back, repositioning yourself on top of him. It’s more difficult, now that both of you are soaked from the neck down. Dustin hands you both a shot, Eddie’s whiskey and yours vodka, and you both down them easily.

“Final round, people! This round wins it all! See Max to confirm your bets. Are the teams ready?” The four of you give variations of a confirmation, and Dustin shouts, once again, “On your mark… get set… GO!” You square your body to hold better balance, as Eddie and Steve approach each other slowly. Eddie’s hands grip your thighs tightly, and you hope he can’t feel the heat growing between your legs. Not now.

You continue to dodge and dance around each other, narrowly missing one another as you swing your limbs, stretching and reaching for Robin as Eddie tries to sneak around Steve’s guard. After five long minutes, Dustin startles you with the newly found volume in his voice. “TIME’S UP! WE HAVE A TIE!” You can hear the conflicting emotions of the crowd, probably correlating to their own predictions. “Y’all know what that means!” The four of you sulk as you leave the water, defeated by the dreaded tie breaker.

Lucas passes you each a can and a miscellaneous tool to puncture it with. You’ve barely grown to like beer, even after months of being surrounded by it, but it’s the only thing available that you’re physically able to shotgun. You’ve chosen a Red Stripe, in honor of your teammate.

“The rules of the tiebreaker are as follows: You will puncture your can when I say go, and you will chug for thirty seconds before opening the top. The first person to finish their beverage wins the tiebreaker for their team. Got it?” Eddie groans a confirmation, while you and Robin nod and Steve taps each side of his face lightly to psych himself out. Dustin counts you off again, and you each stab your cans, quickly rushing the liquid into your mouth. Will counts from 30 out loud as he watches the timer, and the crowd is eerily quiet, focused on the race in front of them.

“30! Crack ‘em open!” You do as you’re told, quickly snapping the tab of the can to relieve the pressure. You can tell you’re slowing down, grossed out by the bread flavored piss water sliding down your throat. Luckily, though, Eddie is devouring his own, his head tilted to make sure he’s getting all of it. The feeling between your legs has returned, and you quickly shoot your gaze to Robin, who’s also struggling to finish her beer. In reality, this is a race between Steve and Eddie, winner takes all. All in this case is bragging rights, and probably a horrible hangover.

Eddie is the first to finish, lifting the can above his head in celebration. Thank god, too, because you definitely shouldn’t consume another shot.

“We have a winner!” Dustin runs between you and Eddie, hoisting each of your wrists to the air as the backyard guests cheer and boo and yell. You chance another look in Eddie’s direction, admiring his whoops of victory as he high fives his bandmates.

_

Eddie’s POV

It’s 3AM as the party starts to die, and people he’d never spoken to in high school approach him to say their goodbyes. Eddie is pulled into hugs, handshakes, and conversations with his former bullies, and girls that never looked at him twice. Though his eighteen year old self would be relishing in this sudden change, he’s tired. He knows it’s not real, that none of these people even care about his art. They care that he’s famous, and that they know someone famous. But the only person in this room that knows him is behind him, falling asleep on the basement sofa.

“Hey, Y/n?” Eddie is finally able to approach you, after breaking away from another pointless conversation. “You wanna get going?”

Your eyes slide to his face, glassy and warm with inebriation. “Aw, you’re leaving?” You pout, staring up at him, and he could melt. You’d been talking about going home not five minutes ago, but it’s clear your brain has stalled.

“Only if you wanna. We can stay as long as you want.”

“I can come with you?”

He can't help but laugh, you’re so cute like this, so soft. “Of course you can.”

“I thought you were sick of me.” Your face slips slightly, lips twitching into a frown.

“What?” Eddie shifts so his whole body faces you. “I could never be sick of you.”

You shrug, clearly not understanding the gravity of his words. “I dunno, we’ve been in close quarters since tour started, I don’t mind giving you space if you need it.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to feel his own drunken insecurity surface. “Are you sick of me?” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear him.

Your eyes widen quickly, shocked at his words. “No! Eddie, of course not.”

“Okay, good.” He flashes you what he knows is an unconvincing smile. “You wanna go home?”

You shake your head. “Can we go for a walk?”

-

Predictably, you end up back at Hawkins High, the parking lot pitch black in the buzz of a summer night. Even looking at it, Eddie feels the chill of his memories washing over him. This is where he was stuck for six years, where Steve had shoved him into a locker their freshman year, where Jason Carver had made his final senior year miserable. It is the building that harbors Eddie’s darkest thoughts, where the seed of his shame had sprouted from. Where he had to deal with Chrissy’s death, and being framed for it.

But it was also where he met you. Where he’d introduced you to some of his closest friends, where he sat with you at lunch every day, dancing around each other until after midterms. As much as Eddie still hates to admit it, and as horrendously tacky as it sounds, high school is where he’d fallen in love.

Eddie lets his eyes wander in the darkness, knowing you won’t catch him in your hazy state. Your arms hang limply by your sides as you stare up at the school building, seeming to admire it. He wonders how being here must make you feel, as someone that left as soon as they could. It hadn’t been easy for you either, restarting your entire social life in your senior year.

“Do you ever miss it?” Your words catch him off guard, your voice almost inaudible even in the quiet.

“Hell no,” He scoffs, and feels you shift beside him. “I spent way too much extra time here to even think of missing it.”

“Okay, maybe not the actual, physical place. But, don't you miss how easy it was?”

“You’re joking, right? We fought an underground of Hell Monsters, Y/n, that wasn’t what I’d call easy.”

You groan, and he chuckles at your drunken frustration. “Christ, okay, I mean how small our world was, before all that hell monster shit. We didn’t have to worry about people outside of Hawkins, outside of the little bubble of our friends.”

“And you miss that?” He’s genuinely curious. You had always been looking to move, spread out beyond the small town your parents dragged you to. He never expected you to miss it.

You shrug. “Sometimes, yeah. Despite everything that happened, I was happy here. I had a home.”

Eddie’s vision blurs with the implication of your words. Of course, you’d had a physical home, but you'd also had him. And Steve, Robin, Nance, the kids. You’d never had a solid friend group in Boston.

“I miss parts of it,” He finally confesses, turning his head to fully look at you again. “Some more than others.”

You look for him, finding his eyes easily in the dark, and he adjusts quickly to see you better.

“You think things will ever be that easy again?” There’s a hint of optimism in your voice, and it begs him to join it, just for a second.

“I really, really hope so.”

-

Your POV

Somehow, you and Eddie find your way back to Steve’s, tiptoeing clumsily through the front door to a mass of passed out Hawkins alum. Steve is sprawled on the couch, while Dustin and Mike are on the floor beside him. In the basement, Will and El are cleaning the empty bottles and red solo cups from the absolutely destroyed basement, bobbing and weaving around members of Corroded Coffin and DDA, and they inform you Lucas and Max have gone back to Nancy’s already. Upstairs, the rest of your friends are in respective bedrooms, sleeping to prepare for their unavoidable hangovers.

“There’s one room left.” Eddie leads the way to Steve’s parents’ bedroom, the only one left untouched by party guests.

You peel the heavy comforter back, shimmying off your shorts, so tired and so absolutely plastered at this point, you don’t realize he’s watching as you untie your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor.

“Whoa! Um,” Eddie spins himself to face the window, losing his balance as he does. Even though he can’t see you, he still smacks his hands over his eyes. “I, uh, I’m gonna go find a spot on the floor.” He begins to sidestep towards the door, still refusing to look at you without a top on.

“Eddie,” You know the alcohol is making you flirty, and you’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but fuck it. You’re on vacation. You tug on Eddie’s shoulder, turning him to face you. He keeps his eyes glued to your face, barely blinking, definitely not letting them wander. “Stay here.”

He clears his throat, wincing. “Y/n,” Your pout cuts him off. “What’s that face for?”

“It’s weird, hearing my name out of your mouth. It was always sweetheart. Or baby, or pretty, or love. Now I’m just Y/n.” Your words slur together, exhaustion taking hold. You let your fingers dance up his bare arm, his shirt still somewhere in Steve’s yard. Still not daring to move his eyes from your face, he has an answer almost immediately.

“You’re not just Y/n, you’re Y/n! The Y/n, actually, a songwriting, vocalizing, rockstar badass. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“Well then, the Y/n wants the Eddie Munson in bed with them.” It’s a bold choice of words, but you don’t care. You need him right now, even through the thick fog of the liquor.

“I want to, you have no idea how badly i want to, Y/n, I promise you that,”

“Then why won’t you?”

“Because I shouldn’t. I can’t.” He’s blunt. There is no arguing, he’s made up his mind.

And still, you prod him with inquiries. “Is it because we’re drunk? Because I trust you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Ed.”

He sighs, his hand finally moving to caress your burning cheek. “It’s because we’re drunk, but not because I'm scared of hurting you. I can’t let our first time together in two years be something you’ll regret tomorrow, but I also can’t chance either of us forgetting it.” He says it quietly, like he’s had the volume on himself turned down. You’ve heard him anyway, but it takes you a second to digest what he’s said.

“Okay,” You accept his answer, and before he can turn to leave you add, “Can you just sleep next to me?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, searching your expression. He must find an answer, because he nods. “Okay, sweetheart. But I gotta have you put a shirt on. For my own sake.”

You giggle, the satisfaction of hearing your nickname making you malleable to his words, nodding in agreement. Eddie exits the bedroom, and returns a bit later with a piece of fabric in his hand. His shirt. Of course it’s his shirt, what was he gonna do, give you Steve’s to sleep in?

You’re surrounded by his smell, his warmth, instantaneously. You crawl into the king sized bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You hear Eddie’s pants drop to the floor, before he climbs into bed, hoisting the covers to slide underneath them. You scoot back, and he knows now to wrap his arm around your waist, without the weird hesitation and awkward shuffling before you give up for the sake of comfort. Eddie rests his face behind your neck, the warm exhale of breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, baby.” He mumbles into the fabric of your-slash-his shirt, and your body vibrates with glee.

“Goodnight, baby.”

-

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @gaysludge @poisonedluv @eddiesguitarskills @kellsck | send a message to be added🫶

[hammity-hammer]

Happy Holi-gays!

Here’s my spicy six holiday writing! (two months late (((:)

Thank you so much to @thefreakandthehair for the prompt, please go make sure to read everything that everyone else has been posting!

(i also made art that's on ao3 with the story- but im a sleeby boy and that shit's difficult to add in so-- go check it out on there! & my dividers were made by someone...... i cannot recall their user and i feel like a bag of dicks but if any of y'all can figure it out pls tag them for me so i know<3)

(second also-- ty to lou, ej, & cat for beta-ing for me<33 i love you guys so much!)

to read on ao3:

if you wanna read it here then here ya go!

10 days before Christmas - 1987

Eddie slams his fist on the door to apartment 2B, rattling the door on its hinges. He’s got his bottom lip bit between his teeth while he pops his knuckles, waiting anxiously for someone to let him in. After what feels like five minutes (which realistically was about thirty seconds, but when you’re nervous time seems to move exceedingly slowly, give the man a break), a very festive looking Argyle opens the door. Bells ring as he lazily waves a hello to Eddie, nods his head and takes a step back to let him inside.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my herbaceous buddy?” He asks with a dopey grin on his face. Argyle closes the door while Eddie looks around, taking in the colorful lights and heavily decorated tree by the television.

“Well, okay, so here’s the deal. It’s our first Christmas, like, together, you know? Like, with everybody being in their little couples and no weird upside down related shit, and we’re real adults now, right? And we’re gonna have our little Christmas party together, but I was just thinking, everyone has like little traditions that they do for holidays, right?” Eddie rambles, his hands moving wildly around him while he meanders around his point. Argyle nods at him, hanging off of every word to encourage him to go on.

“What if, we all— you, me, Stevie, Jonny, Nance, and Robbie come up with our own traditions? Like, maybe we all bring one tradition that our family does or something, and we make it like a thing?” He starts again, a hopeful look on his face while he explains, “‘Cause me and Wayne have always gone and visited some of my family and like we spend a day making tamales and flautas together, and I was just thinking that I would really, really enjoy seeing everybody try and cook that shit. I like, barely have gotten the hang of it, and I’ve been helping with them and not hanging at the kiddie table for like, four years or something now.”

Argyle thinks for a second, nodding his head softly, while Eddie wrings his hands together and grins at him. Thinking about the few cousins he has on Wayne’s side always makes him happy, but when he thinks about spending holidays with them, his happiness expands tenfold. They don’t see each other often, but every time they reconnect, it’s like there was never any time in between their meetings.

“Okay brochacho, I totally am picking up what you’re putting down, and I think we totally could convince our funky little friends to do that! Just thinking about Big Byers covered in maza has me fucking excited,” Argyle laughs. He grins so wide his eyes basically close at the thought, but suddenly they shoot open, “Wait bro, where are we gonna do all this at? Jonny boy and I definitely don’t have a big enough kitchen, and I don’t think you and Nance would be able to hold all six of us, would you?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, dearest Argyle, for we’ve got the Harrington Manor at our disposal for the foreseeable future,” Eddie grins wickedly, throwing his arms out in front of him as if he’s displaying something in the air. “Speaking of Harrington, I do need to go see my lovely boy, so I’ll smell ya later, dude. Is it cool if I call you later to confirm the time and everything once Jonny’s home?” He asks as he spins around to leave, opening the door and taking one step outside, so he can still hear Argyle’s response.

“Sure dude, we’re spending a night in for once, so we’ll be here,” He affirms, as if he and Jonathan ever leave their apartment for anything besides work and picking up their “supply” from Eddie.

Eddie basically skips to his van, throwing the door open and hopping in. He puts in his favorite tape that Steve made him, that has a perfect cursive “You suck, Eds” written on the front. He remembers when Steve gave it to him, acting all shy and trying to use his Harrington Charm to make Eddie swoon.

He’d batted his pretty round eyes at Eddie, hiding his arms behind his back while he asked questions about metal that he already knew the answer to. Eddie’d rolled his eyes and thrown a crooked smile his way, saying, “Now, now pretty boy, I’m pretty sure we’ve already gone over this. Do you just like hearing me explain things to you a million times?” He brought his hand up to push hair out of Steve’s face, basking in the deep blush that slowly spread from his cheeks to his neck.

“I- I um… I was just wondering because… Um- I made you this? And you know, I just wanted to make sure I had, like, remembered things correctly and everything,” Steve started rambling, his hands bringing the perfectly wrapped tape in front of him, a shy smile on his face. Eddie stared shell shocked at the gift in front of him, his hand still softly brushed up against Steve’s temple. Steve nudged the tape into Eddie’s chest, blinking his eyes very obviously at him.

Eddie took the present that was given to him, and held it carefully. With the utmost caution, he peeled the black wrapping paper back, his eyes growing even bigger when he realized it was actually a mixtape that Steve made. No one had ever made Eddie a mixtape before, and especially not a mixtape covered in goofy looking hearts and two stick figures holding hands on the bottom.

He glanced up at Steve, who was biting his bottom lip anxiously, as he did a little jazz hand, “Tada! I’ve been working on this for like… A few months, honestly. I just wanted it to be perfect for you? Because you’re perfect to me?” An awkward grin graced his face while he scratched his neck with the non-jazz hand.

“Steve Harrington… I know you didn’t actually make the little ole town freak a mixtape now, did you?” Eddie whispered, a teasing grin beginning to form on his lips.

Steve’s blush deepened even further while he looked to the floor, shrugging his shoulders.“I just wanted you to have a little piece of me with you everywhere you go? You know, like, you get to hear these songs and then think of…Steve,” He mumbled and rocked back and forth on his heels. Steve blew air out of his mouth and gave Eddie a goofy grin.

“Stevie, you… You are so unbelievable,” Eddie breathed and put the tape in his front pocket. He cupped Steve’s face with his hands and gently pressed their lips together. Steve immediately kissed him back, moving his hands to Eddie’s hips and stepping closer to him. They stayed like that, kissing in Steve’s bedroom and losing track of time. Eventually, Eddie pulled back.

“No one’s ever done anything this nice for me before,” He breathed, his face barely inches from Steve’s. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, inside and out, and I really, really don’t understand why you’d spend any time doing something so sweet for me.”

“Can’t you tell why I’d do this? I feel like I’ve been so obvious!” Steve laughed, moving one hand from Eddie’s hip to cup his cheek, “I like you so much, Eds. I know that it says you suck, but that’s actually a lie. You make me so, so happy, and you’re practically all I talk about. I’m pretty sure Robin was going to murder me if I didn’t figure out some way to tell you that I have feelings for you.” He grinned and poked Eddie’s cheek, “Plus, I was getting real sick and tired of not being able to do this.” Steve kissed him softly and pulled away before Eddie could kiss back.

“Now, if I said I wanted to be your boyfriend… would that be okay?” He asked shyly, moving his hands to hold Eddie’s. Steve chewed his lip while Eddie processed, spinning the rings on Eddie’s fingers.

“I would be over the moon if I got to call you mine, pretty boy.” Eddie nodded, his reserved smile turning into a giant grin.

Eddie uses his key to unlock the front door to the “Harrington Manor”, kicking his shoes off when he gets in and putting his keys in the bowl. He wanders to his boyfriend’s room, humming a little ‘Mr. Crowley’ while he swings open the door, finding a napping Steve on the bed. He’s got his glasses falling off his nose, and Eddie’s very loved copy of The Two Towers resting open on his chest.

“Stevie, baby… Good morning,” he whispers, lightly brushing hair from Steve’s forehead. Steve huffs and shakes his head, rolling over as he presses his face into his pillow.

“C’mon, I’ve gotta talk to you about some holiday plans,” Eddie laughs, plucking the book from his boyfriend and trying to roll him back over. “You aren’t even supposed to be sleeping right now, you’re gonna mess up your sleep schedule!”

“Eds… I gotta sleeeeep, get in the bed with me, please?” Steve mumbles into the pillow, not letting Eddie roll him. He reaches out his hands and grabs at Eddie, trying to pull him on top. “So sleepy… Waited so long.”

“Baby, it’s been barely an hour, I literally haven't been gone long enough for you to be asleep.” Eddie complains as he crawls over Steve, cradling his head, so he doesn’t accidentally hurt him.

“Tell me about it,” Steve huffs, opening one eye to look at Eddie as he cracks a sleepy smile. Eddie grins back, “Stevie, can we talk now? I have a question that’s kind of important.”

Steve yawns, “Go for it.” He rests a hand gently on Eddie’s head and starts playing with his hair.

“So… You know how we don’t really have any plans for Christmas? Because Rob and Nance are doing their Hanukkah thing, and the Hopper-Byers clan has decided to vacation to Cali, excluding Jonny, so we were just going to… do nothing?” Eddie continues, “I talked to Argyle, and we want to try and do like a holiday cooking party type thing. Here. Just the six of us, no kids, and we can make our own holiday traditions.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open, “You mean like… like a family? You wanna do family things with me, Eds? And, when would we do them? Christmas is in like… a week, and I think Robs told me that Hanukkah starts soon, right?” He moves his hand down to hold Eddie’s cheek.

“Stevie, of course I wanna do family things with you, I love you. I love you so, so much. You are my family, you and Wayne, but I want to celebrate with you. I want to celebrate every single holiday we can together. And we can have the party this Saturday? I’m pretty sure everyone’s got it off, and I have Friday off, too, so I can go and get supplies. Does that sound okay?” Eddie leans into Steve’s hand, giving it a soft kiss and smiling.

“That sounds perfect, love. I’ll go call Robs and check if that works for them. Do you wanna come with me, or do you wanna stay here and rest a little?” Steve asks, pulling Eddie close to plant a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie smiles and kisses him back.

“I’ll go wherever you go, pretty boy.”

---

“Buckley residence, this is Nancy speaking,” Nancy answers the phone, sticking her tongue out at Robin who wasn’t able to get there quick enough.

“Oh, Steve! To what do we owe the pleasure of your call?” She leans away from Robin, who grabs for her and the phone, “Nance! That’s my best friend, I wanna talk to him!”

“Oh wow, you guys are inviting us to your house for a… holiday cooking party…? Do you mean like Christmas, because you know Robbie doesn’t celebrate that, and if you’re inviting us to a Christmas party I will be offended on her behalf, considering you’re supposed to be her best friend.” Nancy scolds, squealing when Robin grabs her by the waist. Robin plants a kiss on the side of her head, giggling when Nancy blushes.

“Okay… So you want us to come over Saturday? We’ll just have to be home in time to light the menorah and everything, so you can’t keep us too late,” Nancy questions, looking over to Robin.

She puts her hand over the receiver, “Does Saturday at 3pm sound okay to make food with the boys?” Robin nods, resting her chin on Nancy’s shoulder. Uncovering the receiver, Nancy lets Steve know that they’ll be there before hanging up.

“Not even letting me speak to my best friend in the whole world? The love of my life? Nancy, what are you doing! Are you jealous of little ole Stevie?” Robin jokes, placing dramatic, slobbery kisses to her girlfriend’s shoulder. Nancy giggles and rolls her eyes, “Darling. You see him every single day at work, and I just wanted to get him off the phone so I could spend some time with my favorite woman on the whole planet.”

Nancy turns around, wrapping her arms around Robin’s neck as she plants a soft kiss to her cheek. Robin snorts and her face starts to turn a bright red as she wraps her arms tighter around Nancy’s waist.

“I’m your favorite woman on the whole planet, Nance?” Robin whispers, a cheeky smile on her face. Nancy nods, kissing her other cheek, “Robin Buckley, you may be my most favorite person on the whole planet, not just my favorite woman.” Robin kisses her softly, knowing that Nancy’s telling the truth, if the letter she’d received 6 months ago was anything to go by.

“Robbie,

I don’t think I have ever met someone who makes me feel the way that you do. I thought that maybe I was making things up, or that I was misreading our interactions, but I know that the way I feel about you isn’t anything that could be misread or made up. I think about you more than is probably sane, considering that we barely get to see each other as of late. I love listening to you ramble when you’re nervous, or when you’re really excited about something, or someone brings up a topic that you love. I love when you make snarky comments under your breath that you think no one can hear. I love when you protect your friends without thought, not caring what happens to you as long as they’re safe. I love when you smile, when you laugh, when you accidentally make noises because you’re so excited you have no other way to express it. I love that you love things so passionately, not caring what people have to say. I love you, Robin. I think that this may be the easiest thing I’ve ever done, although I guess I am copping out a bit, sending a letter and all. I hope that you get this soon, and I hope that I’m not wrong about your feelings.

Estaré aquí cuando me quieras, por siempre si es lo que quieres.

Para siempre,

Nancy Wheeler”

As soon as Robin finished reading the letter, she called Steve. She waited for about three rings until he picked up, “Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking.”

“Steve! Get over here, like asap! I really, really need to get to Nancy’s, like now, please,” Robin urged. She kept the phone between her shoulder and ear as she slipped her converse on.

“Nancy’s? Why do you need to go there now? It’s like… 2pm, what are you going to do at 2pm on a weekday?” Steve asked. Robin could hear him picking up his keys, though, which had her grinning.

“I think your ex-girlfriend is also in love with me? She sent me a letter? I really, really hope this isn’t some kind of sick joke, Steve. No one would do that, right? I-I mean… No one even knows, about me, I mean, so they wouldn’t know to confess to me as Nancy… Right?” Robin started rambling, almost dropping the phone while she tied her shoes.

“Robs. Calm down, dude. I don’t think anyone knows, and it’s definitely very like Nance to send you a letter like we don’t have cars and phones,” Steve laughed, “I’m leaving now, love you, see you soon.”

“I love you too, hurry your ass up before I spiral even further, please!” Robin rushed out, putting the phone back into the cradle.

It took him 20 minutes, but Steve finally pulled up to Robin’s house. He honked his horn obnoxiously, and Robin ran outside so fast she almost fell down the steps to her house.

“Dear lord, could you have taken any longer? How am I supposed to go profess my love to your ex if you take 20 minutes to get here?” She started speaking as soon as she opened the car door, throwing her bag in by her feet before throwing herself in.

“I’m sorry that I have to obey traffic laws? Would you rather I died on the way to get you to the love of your life?” He asked rhetorically, easing his foot off of the brake and heading for Nancy’s house.

“I dunno, dude, I think maybe that would not be so great, but I can’t think about anything right now besides the fact that your ex-girlfriend, one of the most literally smartest people in all of Hawkins,” Robin started, pulling down the passenger side visor and checking her hair. “Confessed her love for your current best friend and platonic soulmate, one of the most awkward and anxious people in all of Hawkins.” She continued, rubbing under her eyes and slapping her cheeks.

“You may be awkward and anxious, but you’re still a catch! Do you know how many languages you know? And, you have like the cutest freckles, and you get her weird nerd jokes! You guys are like, perfect for eachother!” Steve exclaimed, taking his eyes off the road to look incredulously at his best friend.

“I guess… you might be right. And, she wrote in Spanish! Do you know how many people have learned phrases in other languages for me? None, Steve, the answer is none. She went out and learned how to say something, just because she knows that I know the language.” Robin rambled, her hands moving wildly as Steve pulled in front of Nancy’s house.

“She totally is in love with you, please, please go get your girl, and keep me posted!” He yelled the last part as Robin got out of the car, waving her hand at him and flipping him off.

Nancy walked to her front door when she heard the bell ring, opening it to a red faced Robin.

“I love you, Nancy,” Robin started, glancing at Nancy’s face and then immediately looking at the ground. “I am so, so in love with you. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone tell me they love me, especially not the way you did, and I especially didn’t expect you to pull out Spanish on me. No one’s ever learned Spanish for me, Nance. I- I don’t think anyone’s ever really even written me a—” Nancy cut her off, kissing her quickly and softly, barely giving Robin time to react.

“You are so incredibly cute when you’re nervous,” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. Robin’s face turned an even darker shade of red and her eyes widened comically.

“I-I’m sorry, I just really, really didn’t know that you felt the same way I did, and I just got the letter and I wanted to see you as soon as I could, so Steve drove me over here and now I’m here and you’re here and I just love you.” Robin laughed nervously.

“Can we- can we do that again? Please?” She whispered, ghosting her fingers along her bottom lip when she realized that Nancy had in fact kissed her. Nancy reached her hand out to Robin’s face, touching her cheek softly.

“You mean kiss?” She asked, taking a small step closer to Robin. Robin nodded, so Nancy leaned in to press their lips together again. Robin let out a small breath, kissing Nancy eagerly.

They stayed like that for what simultaneously felt like five minutes and five hours, before breaking apart to smile at each other.

“It’s just you and me now, okay?” Nancy asked as she broke the kiss, cradling Robin’s head in her hands.

Robin nodded and took one of Nancy’s hands off of her face to hold it, giving it a soft kiss.

“Cara mia, could you please come here?” Robin yells across the house to Nancy. She ties the last bow on the small gift box on the table as she waits. Nancy makes her way to the living room with a little gift bag in her hand.

“Did you finish your wrapping, lovely?” Nancy asks and sets her gift bag next to Robin’s box. She wraps an arm around Robin’s waist and plants a soft kiss on her cheek.

“I did indeed! Do you like the little bow?” She responds, twisting to kiss Nancy as she grabs the present box to hold up.

“Oh! That’s so cute! You just did that?” Nancy exclaims, gently taking the present to examine it. “This has to be the cutest thing I’ve ever gotten and I haven’t even opened it yet.”

“It’s no big deal, really! Just some ribbon and scissors and time and I got it all done!” Robin laughs awkwardly, a light blush on her cheeks. “Do you wanna open it and see if you like the gift…?” She suggests, biting her lip lightly when Nancy nods.

Nancy gently undoes the bow on top and takes her time removing the paper to reveal a small, black, hand-bound leather journal. Her mouth opens in a little ‘o’ as she opens it to find that the first page has already been written in.

“For Nancy, my beautifully brained pearl in a sea of fish-scale imitations. I adore you and you are going so, so many places.

Xx Robbie”

Nancy puffs her bottom lip out and looks up at Robin, “I’m the beautiful brain? Robs, this is so thoughtful. I love this and I’m going to write only the most special things in it. I love you.”

“I love you too! I tried really hard and had to make Steve take me to like four different bookstores to try and find the perfect journal, because they all had like boring journals with flowers and like, girly things, and you’re girly but you’re not girly, and you deserve something that’s professional but sleek, but also sturdy, which is why I went with a hand-bound one instead of just a regular old machine-bound one, and Steve thought it was sweet and so did Eddie, but nothing that they think matters because they’re not you, even though Steve did—” Robin gets interrupted in her rambling by a swift kiss from her girlfriend, pointedly shutting her up.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Open your gift now, please,” She whispers, pulling the bag from the table and lightly shoving it in Robin’s hands.

Robin nods quickly and takes the tissue out of the bag, squealing when she pulls out a rubix cube. “Nancy! Are you for real right now?” She asks as she drops the bag and starts trying to solve the cube.

“One hundred percent, lovely. I know it’s not a lot but I figured it would make you happy and keep you entertained,” Nancy smiles as she watches Robin hop from one foot to the other while she fidgets.

“I absolutely love it, please, please can we light the menorah so we can cuddle on the couch and I can play with this?” Robin whisper yells and looks up at Nancy.

Nancy nods and takes the lighter from the table, “Do you wanna do this or do you want me to so you don’t have to put the cube down?”

“You, please. Thank you,” She responds, smiling softly while Nancy lights the Shamash. After Nancy lights the Shamash, Robin recites the blessings and gives Nancy the go ahead to light the first candle. She lights it and places it on the very far right side of the menorah, smiling proudly at Robin. Nancy places the Shabash back in the middle of the menorah and lets Robin begin singing ‘Maoz Tzur’, closing her eyes to take time to just listen.

When Robin finishes, Nancy holds her hand softly, “Thank you for letting me be a part of this with you, Robbie. I really appreciate it. This was very special and I’m sorry your parents couldn’t be here tonight to help.”

Robin smiles softly at her and plants a kiss to her cheek, “It’s okay, it really is. Their jobs wouldn’t let them off early enough and we’ve got a big next few days, so I’m glad I got to spend tonight with you.” She takes the hand holding Nancy’s and leads her into the living room, dropping her off at the couch.

“So, querida, do you wanna watch Rocky Horror or The Apartment?”

---

Jonathan hums as he licks the rolling paper and seals it closed, twisting the end and grinning to himself.

“Argyle, babe, are you ready to smoke the prettiest doobie ever made?” He asks and turns to his side, holding the joint up proudly. Argyle laughs and kisses his cheek, “I was born ready, Jonny baby. This bad boy’s about to be so good!”

Argyle lights the joint, inhaling smoothly and holding in for a second before lightly grabbing Jonathan’s chin to give him a light kiss and exhale smoke into his mouth. Jonathan inhales the smoke and breaks the kiss to exhale, chuckling at his boyfriend’s antics.

They continue smoking, keeping up the puff-puff-pass routine and occasionally sharing kisses and smoke, smiling at eachother. When they’ve finally cashed it, Argyle puts it out in their Garfield ashtray, a gift they’d received from Eddie and Uncle Wayne.

“What say you to a holiday dinner with the mystery gang? Eds and I talked about it earlier because he just, like, showed up here, and we thought it might be cool to have everyone together,” He asks, taking Jonathan’s hand to place light kisses on his knuckles.

“Oh yeah, when are we gonna do that? Also, where? I don’t think our apartment is big enough for all of us…” Jonathan looks around with glassy eyes, his lips slightly parted. He squints and turns his head back to Argyle, shrugging lightly when Argyle grins.

Argyle laughs, “We’re gonna do it on uh… Saturday? I think? And Eds volunteered Stevie’s house! But… I think he’s supposed to call soon… I can’t really remember…” He shrugs, leaning his head onto his boyfriend’s shoulder and yawning. Jonathan wraps an arm around him, pulling him in close and closes his eyes.

Suddenly, the phone rings, pulling them out of their little bubble. Argyle hops up, almost hitting their heads together before running to the phone attached to the wall. He picks it up excitedly, cheesing at his boyfriend on the couch,“Thank you for calling the Byers-Alvarez residence, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call, my righteous friend?”

Argyle nods, seemingly very into what the other person was saying. Having piqued Jonathan’s interest, he gets off the couch to see who’s called them. He walks up behind Argyle, snaking his arms around his waist before gently placing kisses onto his shoulder. Jonathan does his best to eavesdrop, and Eddie makes it especially easy as he talks loudly and excitedly on the other end.

“Stevie said we can use the Harrington Manor, so you guys can get here at like, 2:30 so we have time to get things finished before the ladies have to go back to Rob’s?”

“You got it, bud! Jonny and I will be there, should we bring anything?” Argyle responds, and finishes their conversation before hanging up the phone. He turns in Jonathan’s embrace and wraps his arms around his neck, planting a big, slobbery kiss on his lips. Jonathan returns the kiss, smiling widely at his dorky partner.

Argyle hums softly, moving one hand to hold Jonathan’s cheek, caressing it softly. He breaks the kiss after a moment, touching their foreheads together.

“I love you, sweet thing.” He whispers, rubbing his thumb up and down Jonathan’s cheek.

“I love you more, Arg.” His boyfriend responds, lightly rubbing their noses together and letting out a little laugh. He gives him one more peck before reaching up to take the hand that’s on his face into his own, swaying to an imaginary beat. Argyle joins him, lacing their fingers together. He hums softly, resting his cheek against Jonathan’s as they continue their dance together.

Argyle rang the doorbell to Jonathan’s house, taking a step back so he wasn’t right in front of the door when it opened. He looked down at the pizza box in his hands, grinning as he thought about its contents.

Jonathan opened the door, with bloodshot eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He pushed the door open a bit wider and gestured for Argyle to come in.

“Hey man, I wasn’t expecting you! Come on in, it’s just me tonight cause Will and El went out with my mom earlier,” He supplied as Argyle followed him inside and stepped out of his shoes.

“Oh, righteous! I was at work and they let me leave early, so I thought I’d come see my favorite Jonny Boy and bring him some ‘zza,” Argyle held out the box to his friend after Jonathan closed the door. He took the pizza box and walked it into the kitchen to place it on the table.

“Thanks, Arg, what kind is it?” Jonathan walked to a cabinet and pulled out two plates, setting them on the table where they’d be sitting. Argyle thanked him and opened the box with a shy smile on his face.

“It’s uh… Veggie and pineapple, just like you like it!” He turned the now opened box to Jonathan, watching him for his reaction. Argyle had placed the spinach on his pizza to look like a little marijuana leaf in the corner, and tomatoes in the center in the shape of a heart. Next to the heart was a pineapple question mark, and a little note was tucked underneath. Jonathan’s mouth opened in surprise, and he removed the note from underneath.

“Jonny,

You’re my best friend in the whole world, my sweet cheese, my ride or die. I love you with my whole heart, and I put it on a pizza just for you! (Don’t panic, no hearts were harmed in the making of this pizza) I don’t think I’d rather spend my time with anyone but you. Please look up at me now!”

Jonathan chuckled lightly and held onto the note, his eyes moving up to look at Argyle who had a soft blush on his cheeks.

“Do you wanna maybe… be mine, Jonny?” He asked softly, chewing on his bottom lip while he waited on a response.

“Like… Your boyfriend?”Jonathan clarified. Argyle nodded, his eyes wider than they had been before.

Jonathan stepped closer to him, reaching the hand without the note up to cup Argyle’s cheek. He nodded quickly before moving in to press their lips together. Argyle immediately kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Jonathan’s waist.

Breaking away, Jonathan smiled at his now-boyfriend, “Do you wanna eat this masterpiece and roll up with me, boyfriend?”

Argyle laughed and squeezed Jonathan where he held him, “That sounds rad, boyfriend.”

Jonathan presses a tender kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, taking one step back so he can extend one of the arms connected to Argyle and spin him in a circle. Argyle laughs while he spins, his long hair gliding in the air like an aerialist’s silks.

“Aren’t you glad you stayed here now?” He asks, landing gently back in Jonathan’s arms. Jonathan smiles sweetly up at him, “I’m always glad I get to see you, babe. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

As they continue their dance, Argyle hums a soft string of notes, not seeming to match any songs that Jonathan’s familiar with. He moves their noncommittal steps into a consistent 4/4 beat, starting a shuffle as he begins to sing in a soft voice,

“Amor, adiós

No se puede continuar

Ya la magia terminó

Ahora tengo que marchar

Será mejor

Seguir nuestra soledad

Si hoy el cielo se cubrió

Quizás mañana brille el sol,”

Jonathan closes his eyes and loses himself in Argyle’s voice, letting himself be dragged wherever his partner sees fit. When Argyle begins the chorus with a dip and a dramatic,

“No sufras (más)

(Quizás mañana nuestro llanto quede atrás)

Y si me dices que tu amor me esperará

Tendré la luz que mi sendero alumbrará

Y volveré

Como un ave que retorna a su nidal

Verás que pronto volveré y me quedaré

Con esa paz que siempre, siempre tú me das

Que tú me das,”

Jonathan chuckles and kisses his boyfriend, making sure not to get him in the middle of the lyrics. Argyle smiles brightly at him, pecking his lips back. He finishes their dance, not by completing his song, but by spinning Jonathan one last time and planting an overly dramatic kiss on his hand.

“I bet you didn’t know I had that up my sleeve, Sweet Thing,” He laughs while Jonathan gives him an exasperated smile.

“I figured you could sing but… I can say I’ve never had anyone make me dance with them while serenading me.”

“Well, since you had to stay back here for me, I figured I’d let you know that even if you think we might be better apart, I’ll always come back for you,” Argyle says earnestly, making sure to keep a firm grip on Jonathan’s hands while he maintained eye contact.

“I didn’t have to stay back for you, I chose to and you know it! You totally could’ve had a fun holiday here with everyone, it’s not your fault your family decided that they suck and would rather abandon their only son than accept him,” Jonathan replies sternly, frowning and tugging his boyfriend closer.

---

It’s a quarter past three when Argyle and Jonathan knock on Harrington's door, eyes as red-rimmed and glossy as ever. They hold each other's hands while they wait, barely registering that the door had even opened before Eddie pokes his head out.

“What’s the password?” He croaks out in an overly dramatic voice.

Argyle jumps back a bit, and Jonathan’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, “Is it… Mary?” he asks tentatively.

Eddie holds a hand over his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter while he opens the door for them. “You’re fucking blitzed, dude. Is that what took you guys so long?” They both nod and giggle, sharing a look with each other before entering the household.

Argyle and Jonathan make their way through the hall before realizing that one of the doorways has mistletoe hanging from the top. Jonathan turns to his partner with a grin, “Aww shucks, Arg. Looks like someone owes me a kiss.” He winks and pulls him slightly closer by the hand.

Raising an eyebrow, Argyle takes another step toward him, “Oh, do I now?”

Jonathan bites his lip and nods slowly, completely enamored by the man in front of him. Argyle rests his free hand softly on Jonathan’s cheek, just above his jaw, and closes the space between them with a gentle kiss. Jon smiles against his lips, sighing contentedly through his nose.

After a few moments pressed together, they separate and Argyle drags Jonathan to the kitchen.

The other three are busy at their own stations, Steve sitting on a stool at the island with a big bowl of some tan mush that makes Jonathan feel a bit queasy. Robin and Nancy are working on grating potatoes and onions by the sink, getting them ready to go into latkes.

“Woah Eddie, we’ve got the white boy working on tamales? You didn’t wait to put Jonny to work?” Argyle asks with a laugh while Jonathan looks between them confused.

“Tamales? That’s what he’s doing? Why’s he got a spoon?” He stares at Steve’s hands, covered in masa with some weird looking yellow thing that he’s spreading masa on.

Eddie laughs and nods, walking behind Steve to watch his technique. “He’s making tamales, yes, I just taught him while we were waiting for you two slow-pokes. Get over here and we’ll get you making them great in no time.”

Argyle shrugs when Jonathan looks at him, “Go on, baby, Eddie won’t hurt you.” Jonathan sits by Steve and takes a spoon, watching Eddie with wide eyes while he explains tamal basics.

Watching as the women grate their vegetables, Argyle decides to walk over and help. Robin hands over some potatoes and a cheese grater with a grin on her face, “Welcome to holidays at the Harrington’s! Glad you two finally showed up, my hands are tired from doing this shit.”

With a roll of her eyes Nancy hip checks Robin and laughs, “You’ve barely been doing any of the work, babe. Just standing there staring at me the whole time.”

Robin scoffs, a bright red flush beginning to rise from her neck, “That is- that’s so not true! I promise, I totally have been… working on the latkes!”

“Ladies, ladies, it’s okay. I am here in all of my gorgeous glory to learn and to teach, I don’t care who’s doing what so long as my hands keep moving on this sacred food,” Argyle soothes, starting to grate his potatoes onto a plate in front of him.

“Eddie, I genuinely don’t think this is supposed to look like this…” Steve murmurs while staring wide eyed at the corn husk covered fully in goopy maza. Eddie walks back over to him and has to turn his head to laugh into his elbow at the sight in front of him.

“Babe- how did you manage to get maza so far up your own arm? It just- goes on the husk?” He half-scolds, amazed at his ridiculous boyfriend.

Steve shrugs and doesn’t move his arms for fear of making even more of a mess. Jonathan giggles from his seat, quiet and high pitched when he realizes just what exactly his faux-competitor has done.

“Man… I don’t know if there’s any saving that one,” He snorts as he lays his newly finished husk in the pile. Steve sighs dejectedly and groans, a dramatic pout on his face when he sees Jonathan finish.

Eddie takes a spoon and starts to clean off the husk so it’s salvageable, trying not to laugh more at his poor boyfriend. He gently kisses his cheek and moves the husk to the pile before finishing his cleaning with Steve’s arm.

“Thank you, Eds,” Steve whispers, his cheeks a bright red. He gets up from his seat and runs to the bathroom to clean his arms off and try to stave off his embarrassment, worried it may turn bad quickly.

Eddie just watches as he leaves, chuckling to himself before sitting in his chair and watching Jonathan continue with his tamales.

“You caught on really quick, Jon, I’m surprised. Argyle over there was saying he was all excited to laugh at you,” He mentions, keeping a close eye on how thick Jonathan keeps the spread while he works.

“Argyle doesn’t know anything- I help my mom cook all the time and this is just like a weird swiss roll!” Jonathan huffs out before placing more husks into the bowl. This earns another laugh from Eddie who decides to get up and take the bowl of husks so he can start filling them with meat.

“Hey man, I know some things,” Argyle shouts indignantly from across the room- taken out of his zone with the latkes.

Jonathan rolls his eyes with a smile, continuing on his work while Argyle keeps his snarky jokes audible to Robin and Nancy only.

---

Steve finally comes back to see that everyone’s already started actually cooking- the latkes being fried on the stove while Eddie places the wrapped up tamales in a giant pot to boil on a different burner.

“I really missed the tamales getting finished?” He pouts and stands behind Eddie, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Yeah baby, that’s what happens when you run away for a while,” Eddie chides and puts the lid on the pot, turning around to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead.

Robin pretends to gag, “Could you guys go be gay somewhere else, please?” Nancy giggles from next to Robin, knowing that they were absolutely standing almost exactly like that right before Steve came back.

“Hey Robs, can you do something for me?” Steve blinks his big eyes at her.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She sets the spatula she was using down and turns to him with furrowed brows.

“Fuck off!”

Eddie chokes on a laugh, completely caught off guard by his boyfriend’s hostility, “Babe- babe please, oh my god!”

Robin rolls her eyes and flips him off, grabbing her spatula again to keep cooking, “Literally suck my whole dick, Harrington.” Her girlfriend snorts at that and bites her lip to keep from laughing too hard.

“Wuh-oh! Lovers’ quarrel?” Argyle asks before he realizes that they were just kidding around with each other. Jonathan brings his hand to his lips and presses a kiss there, “You know they’re just being them, babe. It’s fine.” He soothes and Argyle laughs and nods.

---

By some holiday miracle, the food comes out unscathed and they’re finally able to sit down and just enjoy each other’s company. Steve and Eddie set the table, while Jonathan and Argyle start plating everything to be served. Robin and Nancy take a much deserved break before grabbing sodas and lemonade from Steve’s garage.

“All right, gays and gaydies, I present to you: our Wexi-ewish buffest,” Argyle finishes displaying the food on the table with a flourish.

“Did you really just…”

“Yeah, I think he did, Rob.”

Steve and Eddie giggle at their end of the table, having partaken in some purple palm tree delight before the food was set down. Jonathan beams at his ridiculous lover, excited to spend the holiday with his found family.

Argyle takes it upon himself to give everybody their tamales, latkes, and the various sides that they bought pre-made, before sitting himself between Robin and Jonathan. Everyone thanks him and digs in, exhausted after their long day of cooking.

“Okay, Eddie, where the fuck did you learn this recipe for the chicken? This shit’s schmackin’, I’m gonna need to kiss whichever abuela gave you this,” Argyle moans after his first bite of tamal. Eddie laughs so hard a bit of latke flies back onto his plate and he has to cover his mouth with a hand.

“I mean- if you really wanna call Wayne abuela, be my guest. I cannot control how that man reacts to you,” He responds before taking a drink of lemonade.

Jonathan giggles at his boyfriend before taking a bite. His eyes widen, “No man, I think Argyle might be onto something… this is really fucking good, man.”

Steve nods in agreement as he stuffs more tamal into his mouth, completely forgoing speaking for the time being. Robin and Nancy eat their food a bit more calmly, but still share the sentiment.

“This may just be the best tamal I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve had that many,” Robin smiles and takes another bite. Nancy wipes her mouth with a napkin, “It is really good, Eddie! Thank you for teaching the boys how to make them.”

Eddie blushes and ducks his head while he eats, “It’s just normal holiday shit- no need to thank me, guys…” Steve nudges his shoulder and shakes his head, “No sir, we are not doing that shit right now. You made our holiday special, with Argyle of course, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank you.” He maintains eye contact with his boyfriend and nods his head seriously.

“You’re right… I’m sorry- I just am not used to all this,” Eddie laughs, “You guys make the holidays really great, too, you know.”

They spend the rest of the evening eating their food, cleaning up, and generally just basking in their togetherness.

---

“Promise me we’ll be together every Christmas?” Steve whispers to Eddie while they’re tangled together on the couch— everyone left hours ago, leaving them to cuddle and rest peacefully.

“Whatever you want, love, I’m yours.” Eddie seals his promise with a kiss.

[payphoneangel]

📝 Writing Patterns Tag Game 📝

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

Oooh how fun! Thank you for tagging me @shallowseeker 💞 I'm going to go in reverse chronological order to see how my writing style has developed as well!

Universal Donor When Sam applied to Stanford, he needed an ID, a permanent one. He decided to use Bobby’s address as his own, that was the only way he could know any papers Stanford sent would get to him safely, without Dad or Dean seeing. He crafts his fake drivers license carefully and delicately. Brown hair, hazel eyes, 5’11,” 150 lbs. He hesitates, for a moment, then writes “M” under sex. He pulls the license number off some freshly dead citizen of Huron, SD, as Bobby instructed. He looks again at the template driver’s license online, checking for anything else he’d need to add. At the very bottom corner, a little red heart sits before the word “DONOR.”

If I Believe You Dean pauses as he’s putting on his shirt, noting his body in the mirror. He’s wearing only his boxers. His eyes glance across the familiar rolls and splattering of tattoos. The freckles and the sunspots and the barest hint of wrinkles. Cas tells him he wears his age well. Dean tells himself he wears his age well. His eyes linger on his chest.

take my hand (hold on forever) Leviathan are so fucking loud. Tendrils wrap around Dean’s arm and waist, hoisting him off the ground. Dean plunges his knife into its side, and as a ‘thank you’ it howls right into his ear and sends him flying through the air. Landing heavily, he both hears and feels the crack of his chest before his head slams into the ground, hard. 

there's no cell service in the afterlife Castiel draws in a pained gasp.  He has lungs again, a mouth again. He opens his eyes, and the spinning floor of the dungeon welcomes him as he falls to his knees. He looks to where the brick meets concrete, the last place he saw Dean, the look of remorse and terror still seared into Castiel’s mind. Cas hears a thump behind him. He turns around. 

Not Whole, Not Holy A simmering feeling of longing starts to well in Castiel’s chest. It originates in the deepest part of his core, radiating outward in waves and fading into a tingling restlessness in his fingertips. He lets out a pained sigh, rolling over onto his side. The sunset glares a bright orange hue into his small cabin through the window. He covers his face with his arm, shutting out the dusty twilight, and waits.

A Midsummer Night's Dean “Y’know, I think Timon and Pumbaa are gay.”  Cas hums, considering. “Why do you think that?” 

Prelude It was a straightforward order.  Castiel finds the car in a small Midwest town, with only Dean inside.

Ask Me Why My Heart's Inside My Throat “Cas, you got your ears on? We got a problem we could use your help with.”  Dean’s voice resonates deeply in Castiel’s Grace. With a thought he flies to Dean, finding himself on a weathered fishing boat on the East coast. The ocean slaps against its side. The sky is swimming with the promise of rain.

Spellbound It wasn’t like he planned for this to happen.  Rowena held out her hand to Sam. “The crow beak, if you would.”  He had every intention— good and pure intention— of following Rowena’s instructions. But when they were in the same room together, she seemed to know exactly how to move and talk and even blink in the most distracting way possible. 

Long Black Cloud Coming Down Something was wrong with Sammy.  Course, they had just salted a spec. It was a shotgun rockin’ dug out salt’n’burn. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him for looking worse for wear. But there was an edge to the way he hunched over himself in the booth. He was bent like a paperback, folded and frayed. He looked sallow. Dean worried his thumb against the side of the linoleum tabletop.  Maybe it was just shitty diner lighting.

If anyone is interested in reading any of these, here they are.

Ah how fun to see them all lined up like this! I learned to be punchier with my intros as I went. My first couple of works start with big blocks of text, but I started playing around more with paragraph length by Take My Hand. And with the last two, I finally figured out how to write in past tense! Only took me 8 tries lol.

I think I developed a pattern for intros as I went: Short, punchy action/dialogue, followed by longer paragraph to explain the setting/situation.

It's interesting to see which characters/dynamics struck my fancy at any given time. I started with Sam Insanity, took a nice long stroll in the Destiel Enchanted Forest, then returned to my roots with more Sam Insanity.

Tagging: @kingflups @cutemothman @bloodydeanwinchester @kerryweaverlesbian and anyone else who'd like to play!

[xamaxenta]

Something cute I just thought abt, modern au stuff, I guess college ages here

Sabo frequents an arcade and regularly makes first on the leaderboards

Until a new name thats just AAA pops up in the first slot on most of his favourite games, incensed Sabo wants to find the fucker ruining his streaks and challenge him or her fair and square

Koala thinks he’s being stupid but Sabo holds his grudges and needs to know, figures out by the times hes gone and taken first place back that when he returns after dinner rush at the diner he works at, the AAA fucker was back and learns through small cues that this person must also be a student, has a membership, and is extremely good at dance games

He starts asking the staff if they’ve seen a new regular around, roughly his age, what do they look like

Gleans new info until his Biochem professor has them all pair up for a project that will calculate towards the entirety of their grade this year and a guy named Ace ends up matching his number pair, Sabo stares him down, from look alone, Ace fits the “new regular nerd on the block” descriptions from the arcade staff

And the first thing out Sabo’s mouth is something along the lines of: Are you the bastard that keeps beating my score in Time Crisis?

And Ace looks at him in confusion, “time what?” And Sabo hates that he thinks he’s cute

“AAA?” Sabo knows its him, can feel it in his bones.

“I dunno what you mean.” Ace replies, and has the audacity to look away to root around in his bag for something clearly unimportant to their conversation.

“Besides, why do you care, are you like some mega nerd who cares about keeping score?“ Ace asks blandly, pen in hand as he hunches over their project outline.

Koala stifles a laugh from where she’s seated behind them in the auditorium. Sabo makes a rude gesture at her from behind his back.

“That’s funny, considering you keep beating me, which makes you an even bigger nerd!” Sabo retorts, unwilling to let this go now he’s found his perp, “you’ve beaten me in everything from Starblade To Nightslashers?”

“Are you SBAO?“ Ace asks suddenly and Sabo squints at him suspiciously.

“Holy shit, you spelt your own name wrong?“ Ace snickers and circles something Sabo can’t be bothered to check just yet.

“Says the guy who registered under AAA.”

“Nah you can’t blame that on me dude, AAA is my little brother.” Ace sits back against their bench, his smile half amused at how seriously Sabo was taking all of this.

“I just provide the wallet he needs for the membership but I tag along to watch him play. I’m shit at videogames.” Ace explains and Sabo flusters slightly, both at how cute Ace looked when he smiled but also at accusing him so strongly, he can practically hear Koala’s radiating smugness.

“Wait. How old is your brother?“ Sabo asks with growing trepidation.

“He’s twelve.” Ace says and signs off his name at the bottom of their project sheet, sliding it over to Sabo to add his own.

Sabo visibly feels the blood drain from his face, that can’t be true, there’s no fucking way—“you’re telling me your kid brother is kicking my ass at Dungeons and Driveout?”

“Yeah.” Ace looks awfully proud of this little brother of his.

“Are you his guardian?“ Sabo switches tracks, trying to find some kind of flaw with the cute guy smiling up an adorable storm beside him.

“Yup.” Ace tucks his pen behind his ear for safekeeping, which Sabo finds enormously endearing but he will never ever say it, this guy and his kid brother were the enemy!!

“And you let him play video games for that long?“

“What we do with our time is not really your concern.” Ace says smoothly, “And I don’t need anyone telling me how to parent my brother. He’s a good kid and I want him to have fun.”

Koala kicks at Sabo from under the bench, forcing him to apologise for his insensitive mouth.

“None taken.” Ace relaxes visibly, and Sabo kind of likes how he was so ready to protect the things he cares about.

“Alright, I need to know one more thing and then I’ll sign your stupid form,” Sabo flicks at the corner of the page Ace has been wiggling at him from across the desktop for the past ten minutes.

“Shoot.” Ace indulges him.

“The dancing games. There’s simply no way a twelve year old is gonna get those combos.”

“You’re right. Those are my scores.” Ace smirks and Sabo feels vindicated at last.

“So you are AAA!”

“In a sense. But we share the account, I can’t afford more than one.” Ace has the nerve to look sheepish over that, of all things.

Sabo can’t help but glance him over, takes in his build and the long sweep of his legs—

“My eyes are up here dude.” Ace drawls and Sabo glances back up with a scowl, annoyed that he was caught looking.

“Ugh. Give me that.” Sabo slaps a hand over the form and drags it over to scribble his signature along the base so they can finally pass it back down to their professor.

“You me, Dancerush Stardom at 7?”

“Without dinner first?“ Ace asks in mock surprise.

“Dinner after,” Sabo shoots back and stands noisly from their bench to take the sheet back down to the front of the hall.

“I think he likes you.” Koala says conversationally, leaning over the gap Sabo’s made and Ace turns to look at her thoughtfully.

“Think so?”

“Yup. He’s obsessed with you actually.”

“I’m not fucking obsessed—“ Sabo shouts from the base of the stairs.

“Yes you are sweetie!” Koala hollers back at him before smiling at Ace who shrinks back at the leer in her eyes.

“Be nice to him, he’s got like zero friends, excluding me.”

“Uhh okay?” Ace glances between the rapidly approaching Sabo and the girl behind him.

“He’s just excited to talk to someone his age with the same interests, he doesn’t bite.” Koala adds when Sabo vaults over their bench row with the intention of silencing her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sabo seethes after wrangling her into a not so gentle headlock.

“Or what?“ Koala goads and then promptly elbows her friend in the stomach.

“You’re gonna scare him off by being fucking weird again!”

“Hey, I’m still here and I’m getting pretty hungry.” Ace cuts in, his pale silvery eyes creasing up in what Sabo recognises as a positive emotion, he can work with that.

“So dinner?“ Sabo repeats and Ace nods, Sabo glances at Koala who sticks her tongue out at him.

“Uh now?”

“It is almost seven.” Ace says agreeably.

“Oh shit. Yeah okay.” Sabo holds out his hand for Ace to take, and then regrets it because his palms are so so damn sweaty—

“Awww. You two be nice to each other now.” Koala looks between them as her tone takes on a sugary kind of quality.

“I want him home by ten.” She addresses Ace first who looks caught out for a brief moment before playing along, salutes her charmingly with his and Sabo’s linked hands.

“And you, you be nice. I don’t wanna have to bury another body okay?”

“Wait what—“ Ace tries to process that quip as Sabo drags him out of the auditorium, Koala waves them out, neither confirming or denying her statement.

Cuties. She thinks this relationship will last.

[janeafterdark]

Intro Post

hello! I'm Jane and I'm 23, and a very transgender , very lesbian, and very poly kinda gal c: i use the she/her pronouns

my messages and asks are open, feel free to chat with me if you're 20+! i like sexting and all that sorta thing, so don't be afraid of me :p i'm a huge subby slut so keep that in mind

anyway here's The Lists: my kinks, my tag system, and my DNI list; please check the DNIs before you follow! or i will smite you

Kinks

Praise Play

Degradation

Impact/Pain Play (to a moderate extent in reality, somewhat more flexible in terms of fantasy)

CNC and Free Use

Possessiveness (in a cute way or if more extreme more as a fantasy)

Rough Sex

Breeding <3 (pregnancy is not something i find appealing as a kink, but i do like the idea of being pregnant, and being *made* pregnant is def kink territory for me)

Hypno & Bimbo

Pet Play

Objectification (of me)

Tags

#jane speaks - this is the tag i use for my text posts, including additions to reblogs and responses to asks

#ask game - for various ask games and list stuff

#holy fuck 😳😳😳 - where i save content i *really* enjoy, usually pics of folks

#fantasies - text posts that i enjoy fantasizing about, usually in the submissive and/or bottom context

#my gf <3 - posts where i interact or discuss my girlfriend c:

#body goals tbh - horny transition goals basically

#cnc - i try and tag cnc content since i know that can be upsetting for some folks (if you want me to add more tags for similar things please let me know)

i also usually have tags specific to users i interact with for asks and stuff if you wanna go hunting for those

DNI

Minors

AlloCisHet Men

Ageless Bios!! Just put your age in there, good lord!!

Really intense/gross subject matters like gore, scat, ageplay, incest, raceplay, and other things of that variety

As an extension of the previous point: no 'aged up' characters or smut content of media aimed for kid's, it's gross and weird

Bigoted folks (obviously)

[goodparrotsoup]

Found this cool decent picrew please look at it I swear I'm not cringe pl

Made all the fancy Nogard rulers because w

We got 2nd Queen (with only one of their council members because idk I guess the other guy sucks or something I wouldn't know. Also no it's not the bird on them it's oNe of the next guys stupid how could you even think that obviously you don't know the lore of my super important oc. Infact, my oc is so great that they're a real, living person)

Anyway moving on

Next we have Lady Truth from their own city called the City of Truth yes it's a very appropriate city name

Next we have the one person any of you would actually ever recognize

Sir fucking Sun's Ocean or whatever

Oh, that's not the name you know?

What about Sirk

Or

Knight

No?

KN

still none?

What about Barney the purple knight 💜💜💜

Oh shit OMG it's queen 2s fucking boyfriend fr the one council member that actually made it on here for some reason

Trans man trans man omg I can add that to the tags and I'll be Tumblr famous it's pride month yooooooo

Hehehe and not only is this one transmask but we've got transfem queen 2 alSo double whammy!

/j, don't queerbait, kids.

Who wants some cringe ass random VatP lore?!!?! YAYYYY

this is the guy who actually owns all the red griffins and feather people not Fox.

Fox just took the opportunity to get you at your weakest point, right after a tough battle.

sTupid

And finally holy shit saved the best for last this one actually looks so cool I mean-

1st Queen, Abyss Lady, KN's Forbidden Sister, Lady Lizzard, here to give all her little animals an existential crisis! (Coming 2023, on Ao3! Mark your calendars!!!!)

There's a reason she's banished to the bottom of the ocean 🌊 ❤️❤️❤️

[writing-wh0re]

george weasley smut where both him and the girl have a praise kink?🥰

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests

George x Fem!Reader

Words: 1,100

Warnings: Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Slight Cockwarming, Male Performing Oral, Vaginal Intercourse.

A/n: I'm going to make my publishing days now on weekends, so look out for new content from Friday nights through to Sunday nights. Requests are open! (I have heaps of mommy / miss kink requests and I promise I am getting to them hehe) Enjoy my loves x

I knock softly on George’s dorm door, hearing his laughter follow his footsteps as the door opens, his smile wide as our eyes meet.

“Afternoon baby girl.” I stand on my tippy toes, kissing George quickly before he gestures for me to walk into his dorm.

“Hey boys.” I smile warmly at Fred and Lee, both of them returning a smile and mumbling a hey.

“We are going to head to Hogsmead, would you like to join?” Fred asks, standing to grab his coat. George looks over at me, my eyes pleading to stay, I quickly cover my mouth to whisper in his ear not wanting the boys to hear or read my lips.

“I want you to play with me.”

George takes a deep breath in, chuckling slightly to throw the boys off what I might have said.

“We might be down later, go on without us.”

Fred snickers to himself most likely piecing together what was said, Lee only nods in agreement before slipping out of the dorm. The moment the door is closed George locks it behind them, striding over to me, his body moving on top of me, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss deepens, our tongues fighting against each other, my fingers run through his red hair, tugging on the strands earning a groan from George. His lips kiss along my jaw, trailing down my neck causing goosebumps to liter my skin. A soft gasp falls from my reddened lips as George bites my soft skin, leaving his mark on me.

“Good girl.” His low whisper causes my panties to dampen, butterflies flowing through my stomach with anticipation.

George lifts my, well his quidditch jersey off my body, instantly kissing my boobs, his fingers undoing my bra. A sigh passes my lips accompanying his moan. He continues down my body, licking, kissing and sucking on my skin, George rids my body of my pants, kissing my thighs before chuckling.

“Look at my pretty little pussy.” I look down at George between my thighs, his eyes locking onto mine a cheeky smirk on his lips. The cool air of the room comes in contact with my glistening pussy, George throwing my panties off to the side, his finger trailing up and down my slit, collecting the wetness.

“What did you want me to do again baby?” George asks, licking his lips as I huff, feeling his finger slowly and softly brushing against my clit.

“Play with me, please.” I beg, rocking my hips only to have them held down by George’s hand.

“Explain it, tell me what you want, baby.”

“Fuck George, I want you to finger me, play with my clit, please.” I huff desperate for his touch. His chuckle causes blush to wash over my face, I open my mouth to beg again, my words being cut off by my moan. The feeling of George’s tongue swirling around my clit, his finger slowly moving in and out of me.

“You’re so good at that, fuck.” I whisper, George moaning at my compliment, the slight vibration of his moan against my clit. George moves his finger in a ‘come here’ motion, hitting my walls perfectly allowing a chorus of my moans to fill the air. His lips wrap around my clit, sucking the bundle of nerves causing my legs to shake lightly, the tingling sensation rushing through me.

A small whimper escapes me at the loss of George’s finger inside me, the jingle of his belt rings through my ears as he licks a stripe between my folds before pulling away. I watch my tall boyfriend strip of his clothing, his toned body causes me to bite my lip, drinking in his appearance.

“You’re so hot.” The words fall from my mouth before I have time to comprehend them, earning the cockiest smirk from George.

George replies by locking his lips with mine, the faint taste of my arousal dancing across my tongue. I bite his lip, pulling back slightly causing him to moan breathlessly as I gasp, feeling him slide into me.

“So, fucking big.” I mumble, biting my lip to muffle my moans.

George’s mouth falls open at the tightness of my pussy, the way it wraps around his cock. George’s thumb brushes my bottom lip, pulling it from between my teeth as he chuckles, leaning closer to my ear, his warm breath fanning against my neck.

“Let me hear you baby, so beautiful.” My eyes flutter closed, a soft smile on my lips as my pussy clenches around him at the praise. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of me, both of us moaning in between kisses, his lips wander up and down my neck, his hips rocking into mine as my heels rest against his back.

“You feel so good baby.”

“I’m all yours George.” I whisper, kissing just under his ear, my teeth lightly pulling on his earlobe, causing his dick to twitch inside of me. I arch my back into his chest, my boobs pressing against him as I moan his name loud, letting him know I am truly, only his, only he can make me feel like this.

George sits back on his knees, pulling my hips closer to his as he watches his cock slowly slide in and out of my pussy. He grabs my legs, placing them against his chest achieving a deeper angle, my eyes rolling back as he continuously hits the right spot.

“Right there, yes! Yes!”

George’s head falls back, a waterfall of moans leaving his lips, reviling in the feeling of our bodies connecting.

“I’m close.” George warns, I meekly nod, my eyes fluttering closed, my mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as George rubs fast circles on my clit with his thumb, the added pleasure throwing me over the edge.

“I’m, holy fuck.” My body shakes, pussy clenching around his thick member, milking his own release from his body. The warmth of his cum shoots through me as I move my legs to his waist again, our lips attaching. Both of our chests rising and falling, having our hair stuck to our foreheads with slight sweat.

George stays buried inside of me, changing our position to both be laying on our sides. I whimper slightly, rocking my hips softly, letting him know how much I love having him inside of me.

“So good to me” George kisses my forehead, his thumb rubbing small circles on my cheek.

“Thank you for playing with me.” Blush floods my face causing George to chuckle, kissing my lips softly.

“Always.”

| | | 

Taglist: 

@andreaareynoso

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@hufflepuff5972

@black-like-my-soul

@gaycatlord-stuff

@mathletemadison

@horrorxweasley

@marrymetheonott

@maybesandohnos

@cigarett3saftersex

@edwardcullenswifee

@mypainistemporary

@miraclesoflove

@onlyfreds

@dlmmdl

@4kweasley

@aayaissaa

@justfangirlthingies

@afraid-to-be-me

@freddieweasleyyy

@roonilwazlibswhore

@thenaivegirly

@udontwannaknow_

@udontwannafindout_

Add yourself! *If your username is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you! Message me to fix this :)*

[duuhrayliegh]

dm slide

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, language, nothing else really, it’s just really fluffy i think

word count: 1905

a/n: okay so my other stuff is coming, i stg, i’m just in the middle of finals and moving out of my dorm, and starting a new job, so i’m a bit stressy right now, but i’m getting there loves.

so if this one isn’t as good as it could be that’s why, but i’m hoping to add on to it later

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

You were currently at your best friend’s birthday party, polishing off your third overfull glass of wine. Your best friend threw her hands above her head, shouting out “Shots on me!” She thrusted a shot glass in your hand, encouraging you to toss back the liquid. You set down your wine glass, picking up the smaller cup, not caring about the flashing cameras around you.

“I’m so glad you were able to get free from your oh so lavish lifestyle as a celebrity to come hang out with little ‘ol me!” She had to continue to shout for you to hear her over the loud music blasting through the club speakers. She grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the bathrooms. “Are you getting ready to go? The sound system is giving me a headache.” You smiled at her, grabbing your phone from your clutch.

“Absolutely, babes. Let me order the Uber and then we can go.” You held onto your phone tighter, walking up to the bar to settle your tab. “Hey, Gabe!” Gabe, one of the bartenders, turned to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” He went to grab a bottle of your favorite wine to uncork it, but stopped when you held your hand up.

“Just settling up and heading out.” You passed your black AmEx card over the counter to his waiting hand.

“You’re missin’ out, Y/N. The party is just getting started here.” You shook your head at the man.

“Nah, I’m celebrating my best friend’s birthday tonight, so this is her call.” He slid your card back to you, watching you push it into the slots of your clutch. “We’re getting outta here, but that doesn’t mean our party is ending.” You winked at him, meeting up with your companion. You linked arms with her, leading the way through the crowd. It was cold outside, which didn’t mean good things for you because of your almost too short dress. The Uber stopped beside the curb, rolling their window down for you to double check. You climbed in beside your friend, scooting closer to increase your warmth. The ride to your apartment wasn’t too long, thankfully because Uber’s creeped you out, no matter how safe you were.

Walking into your apartment was difficult to say the least. You both were stumbling the entire way to the elevator and then stumbling into your couch cushions. The two of you managed to make it to your bedroom, swapping out your tight garments for some more ill fitting attire. That was not before you took an absurd amount of photos together in your bathroom mirror. You sat across from each other on the black couch in your apartment, sifting through the pictures of the two of you. Your best friend was leaned over your shoulder, watching as you scrolled through.

“Oo! That one!” She pointed at the screen quickly, stopping your scrolling. It was of you holding the phone, leaning backward staring at the phone in your hand. Your best friend was facing you, her bare back displayed from the deep dip in the back of her dress. “We look so hot.” You both shared a look and then burst into a fit of laughter. You posted the picture to your Instagram, tagging your best friend in the corner, wishing her a happy birthday. She slid away from your, covering her lower half with a blanket.

“You want a water?” You asked as you rose from your spot on the couch. She smiled big at you.

“Can I convince you to mix up some margaritas?” Her bottom lip rolled inwards, waiting for  your response. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before opening your liquor cabinet. You pulled down bottles of triple sec and tequila, reaching into your freezer for the bag of strawberries and limeade. You brought your Ninja Bullet out to make individual margaritas for both you and your drunk friend. Walking back over to her with containers in hand, you plopped opposite her on the couch.

“You’re literally the bestest ever.” She slurped on the drink through her swirly straw. The conversation faded between the two of you, allowing the both of you to go through your socials. “Did you see that Lizzo got a message back from Chris Evans the other day?” You laughed at her question, remembering your reaction to Lizzo’s TikTok.

“Mhm. Can you imagine getting a reply back from one of those hunks of men?” She shook her head while guzzling her margarita.

“I can’t, but I bet you can.” You scrunch your brows at her and she groaned. “You’re a celebrity too, dumbass. Girl, the amount of times that I’ve gotta remind you of that is insane.” You laughed at her, rolling your eyes.

“Babes, just because I’m quote, unquote famous, doesn’t mean that I’m on their level.” She pointed a finger at you.

“Hey, just shoot your shot, Y/N.”

“I literally don’t even know which one I would DM.” Your best friend scoffed loudly.

“Bullshit!” You choked at how loud she yelled. “You don’t know who you would DM? I know who you would DM in a fucking heartbeat.” You looked over at her with raised brows and in unison you said. “Sebastian Stan.” “Sebastian Stan.”

“Mm, he is a six foot tall Romanian God.” You shook your head while fake moaning, your friend laughing in the background. She reached for your phone before you could protest, typing away on your keyboard, smiling mischievously. She thrust the phone back into your hands, the empty DM screen of imsebastianstan on Instagram staring back at you.

“All you gotta do is send something.” She smiled at you while you glanced down at your phone screen nervously. You began typing something quickly then locked the screen, placing it facing downward on your lap, a giggly smile resting on your face. She scooted closer to you, folding her legs up to her chin. “Wait! What did you say?” You unlocked your phone, showing her the screen. She laughed at your message, drinking the rest of her margarita.

y/n.y/l/n: hi, i’m y/n and you’re the love of my life ;) <3

“That’s so fucking good, oh my God.” She glanced at the clock on your phone. “Oh girl, we’ve gotta go to sleep.” You checked it as well, dropping your head into your hands.

“Mhm, you’re right.” You stood from your spot, holding your hand out to your friend to help her up. “Let’s go to sleep.” You both crashed on your king sized mattress underneath your white fluffy duvet. You were about to drift off to sleep, when your best friend’s voice floated into your ears.

“Do you think he’s gonna reply to you?” Her voice was slurring more and more from the amount she drank and the sleep weighing on her mind. You smiled at her, it was a long shot that he would even see it, much less reply.

“We’ll have to see, babes.” She didn’t reply to you as you both fell off into a dreamless abyss.

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

The sun streaming into your room woke you up in the morning, light hitting your eyelid just right. You blinked harshly, bringing your hand up to block the glare. A groan escaped your lips, stretching out from your best friends grip. “Fuck me.” You held your head in your hand, groaning about the headache blossoming at the nape of your neck. You left the bed, pulling a sweater over your tank top to catch some warmth. You tucked your phone into the waistband of your shorts. You padded into the kitchen, grabbing your Advil bottle, dumping two pills into your hand. You got a glass of water, settling down on the couch after gulping down the headache medicine.

You opened your phone while basically inhaling your water. Your memories of last night were fuzzy, you drank quite a bit. Did you drink too much? Maybe… but did you regret it at all? Not a second of it. You had the best time hanging out with your best friend. You check your Instagram post, replying to several different comments. A red bubble was pinned over your DM button in the corner. You tilted your head in curiosity, wondering who messaged you now. You swiped over, eyes widening at the new message.

imsebastianstan: Hi, Y/N. I’m Sebastian, thank you for professing your love to me.

The feeling of panic running through your veins didn’t last long, A gigantic smile spread accompanied by a giggle. What the fuck do you do now? Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, thinking through what you want to say back.

y/n.y/l/n: hello sebastian, what do ya say we  figure out if it’s a match :)

You sent the message before you could chicken out, locking the phone shortly after, shoving it in your waistband. You got up, refilling your glass of water, leaning against your granite countertop, tapping your fingers impatiently. You squealed as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

imsebastianstan: What do you have in mind?

y/n.y/l/n: 917-555-0545 <3

Oh my god, you can’t believe you just did that. Holy shit, what are you thinking? Maybe this will all work out in your favor. You really had nothing to lose but your dignity, right? A disturbance in the peace to the right of your caught your attention.

“Why the hell are you up so early? We drank last night, that’s an excuse to sleep in, you fuck baffoon.” Her hair was tousled on top of her head, shirt hanging off one shoulder. You turned your phone around, thrusting it towards her face.

“There’s been recent developments on the Stan front.” Her brows raised, face becoming shocked.

“Oh. My. God. Are you fucking serious?” She snatched the phone away from your hand quickly to scroll through the messages. “You gave him your number?” She yelled at you as she stretched across the couch, laying her head in your lap. Your phone buzzed in her hands and her eyes widened to unbelievable proportions. “Bitch, you just got a text from an unsaved number.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You looked at the phone in her hands. “I didn’t think he was actually going to text me, I sent it as a joke! What’s it say?”

“How are we going to figure this out?” You both shared a look, shrieking enthusiastically. “Y/N! Sebastian Stan texted you!” She jumped up and down on your couch, pulling you up with her.

“What do I say back?” You held the phone against your chest, staring expectantly at your best friend. She shook her head at you.

“Nuh-uh girl. This is all you.” She held her hands up in surrender. You looked down at your keyboard, the blinking cursor waiting for instructions.

“Okay, okay, how ‘bout, ‘discuss over coffee?’” You looked at your best friend for approval, still standing on your couch. You sent the message after she nodded. A message bubble popped up, three blinking dots inside.

There’s a coffee shop on 8th street,  just outside of Washington State Park.

wanna meet up around three?

I’ll be there, Y/N.

You turned to your best friend, holding the phone to your chest. “Babes.” She raised her brows, waiting. “I have a fucking date with Sebastian Stan!” You both squealed, excited for what would happen on your date.

[kiridarling]

[a/n: is this a week late? yes. happy belated-valentine's day angels <3]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮; 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥

→ Definitely went to work that day

→ Not a huge romantic but wake up to find a hot breakfast with a note left on the counter.

Happy Valentines Day, dumbass. Love you.

— k.b

→ When he returns from work, Katsuki buys you roses and shoves them into your chest with an eye roll. You thank him and he responds with a grunt before insisting you put on something nice because he’s taking you out on a dinner date whether you like it or not.

→ Katsuki takes you to the fanciest restaurant—so fancy you feel a little bad that he has to pay, even despite his Pro Hero status. But you’re his, and spoiling you might as well be his love language.

→ Halfway through dinner, Katsuki starts getting a little frisky. Sliding the rough leather of his oxfords up the inside of your thigh, winking and biting his lip. You tell him to stop but you only half-mean it, and the knowing grin on his face lets you know he knows.

"Careful, baby. You don't want the waitress to know how much of a dirty slut you are, do you?”

→ He’s condescending as fuck but you’re totally here for it, and the second he pays for the meal you two are speeding down the highway to a love hotel (per Katsuki’s plan, apparently). You barely make it to the bedroom before you’re all over each other, and if it weren’t for that family of four in the elevator, you definitely wouldn’t have.

→ He tells you to get on the bed and strip, and who are you to deny him of such a luxury? He pulls a plastic black bag out of a different bag—it’s clearly full. With what, you may ask?

→ Sex toys!

→ Katsuki’s endgame is simple—make you cum until you can’t anymore. Not that he’s told you explicitly, but he’s got a Hitachi pressed to your sex and two fingers slamming into you just the way you like it. With your wrists comfortably tied above your head, it doesn’t take him long to bring you to your climax, cheeks burning and thighs shaking.

→ Peering at you under the sweaty mess of ash-blond hair, the fire in Katsuki's eyes only adds fuel to the burning of your gut as the vibrator continues whirr. The realization settles in with a shiver. Oh. Oh fuck, he's not stopping.

“Again.”

→ So, you cum again. And again, and again, and by the time you’re on the fifth it gets a bit hard to feel your toes and you’re so sensitive your thighs burn. All you want is his cock, but for some reason, it’s fucking impossible for him to give it to you.

→ Upon voicing your concerns, Katsuki’s devilish smile only grows wider.

“You want this cock that bad, slut? Yeah? Fine then, fuckin’ choke on it.”

→ It’s basically cannon that one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do is watch you struggle to take all of him, but in this position, all you can do is lay back with bound hands as he fucks your face. It’s sloppy and your eyes and throat burn, but it's totally worth it to hear Katsuki fall apart in your mouth.

“S-So good—fuck—such a good whore, taking all of me, aren’t you?”

→ Katsuki pulls out before he cums in your throat in favor of flipping your limp body into downward dog and stuffing you full of cock in one swift move, the bastard.

→ Katsuki’s never been one to take things slow in bed—to him, it’s all hard and fast and now. You’re scrambling for purchase in the sheets as he pounds into that sweet spot he knows you love, and you feel your fully spent sex twitching back to life anyway. Fuck, fuck. Are you going to cum again?

→ Katsuki seems to catch onto this as well, sweaty chest dropping against your back and the cool of his dog tag tickling your neck as his hand rubs between your legs, muttering dirty nothings in your ear.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah? Gonna make a fuckin’ mess all over yourself like the slut you are? Fuckin’ do it. Fuckin—fuck—”

→ You two cum at the same time, toes curling and ribcage shuddering, and then—

→ Darkness.

→ You wake up in a few hours, properly clean in fresh sheets. Turns out baby boy fucked you so hard you passed out, but it's okay because he’s found reruns of your favorite show on and is fully prepared with water and snacks.

→ (And he’ll never tell you, but he fully panicked and called Eijirou. Obviously, he knew you were alive, but…what if you passed out because of a problem? A concussion? Internal bleeding, maybe?)

→ (Eijirou ensures him that though this should NOT happen every time, it can happen from exhaustion. To say Katsuki relaxes after that is an understatement.)

(Stay safe angels <3)

And speaking of Eijirou...

𝐄𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞

→ Definitely did not go to work that day.

→ Today, Eijirou plans to treat you like the princess you are. Cooks you breakfast in bed (after almost burning down the kitchen trying to make bacon but shhh we don’t talk about that) books you a full day spa and has Mina take you shopping for a new outfit for your "fancy date" that night.

→ The location? A surprise.

→ It’s dark by the time you and Mina pull up, but the moment you hop out the car she speeds away. Um. She could’ve at least said bye.

"[Y/N?]"

→ Looks like Eijirou brought you to a lake. You wonder who helped him bundle the fairy lights in the trees and set up the picnic because knowing your man and his coordination, it would’ve taken a forever for him to set this up.

→ But all those thoughts shatter the second you see that he’s on his knees, clutching a velvet box with a gorgeous diamond ring sat in the center. Not too flashy, but not too dull.

“U-Uh.”

→ Eijirou swallows then blinks, the only sign that he’s the least bit nervous for this.

“See…I swear I had planned something to say, but you look…holy shit, um—stunning, you look stunning.”

→ His compliment goes over your head though. Of course it does, he’s holding an engagement ring. He chuckles, averting his eyes to the ground.

“Listen, um, you can say no...B-But uh, I love you a lot—obviously—and I’ve been thinking about this a lot, kind of, because you’re like…the love of my life, ya know? I mean, I know everyone says that and everything but like, I really mean it? But if I’m going too fast o-or you just don’t wanna get married or something, I totally get it because obviously this is outta the blue and everything b-but um…yeah.”

→ You let him stutter through the whole thing because, well. It’s cute.

→ ...And then you tackle Eijirou to the ground with renewed passion and slam your lips onto his. His “babe! The ring!” is muffled but you snort anyway, blindly groping for it through the grass. The moment you find it, you shove it into his palm and stick your hand in his face, and with a (very sexy) chuckle, the redhead slides it onto your ring finger.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

→ No shit, Sherlock.

→ Either way, the picnic in the dark is abandoned in favor of yanking Eijirou's pants off and giving him the best head of his life. Because goddammit, you love this man so much and he needs to feel it.

→ Afterward, he insists on returning the favor. A wild Gentle Dom Kiri appears and as he eats you out, he mutters a deadly combination of the sweetest and dirtiest things you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and wet. And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?"

“You’re gonna cum, angel? Do it. Cum all over Daddy’s face.”

→ Once you semi-recover from your orgasm, he flips you on your hands and knees and slowly pushes inside of you (though not without putting on a condom because safety first, angels). You tell him to speed up, but he denies your request. This time around, Eijirou's going to take the time to love you.

→ As he slowly fucks you under the stars, he dips his chin into your neck as his bigger hands encompass your own. As he starts to play with the ring on your finger, you watch something wet hit the picnic blanket, followed by a sniffle.

“Gosh, fuck—I love you so much. A-And I’m really happy you said yes. I…”

→ You cum first and Eijirou isn’t far behind, shuddering against your spine. Your fiancé unceremoniously rolls onto the picnic blanket next to you, his temple kissing the crest of your skull as the two of you use the comfortable silence to cool down, half-naked under the milky way.

→ In your comfortable silence, you lift your left hand to the stars, fingers splayed to reveal the twinkling diamond solidifying the bond between the two of you. Eijirou hums, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢; 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

→ Both of you are painfully single and most importantly, strangers. Strangers who think alike and had the glorious forethought to drown your sorrows at a nightclub with a lot of alcohol.

→ Denki, as he does, accidentally knocks over his liquor-filled cup, completely drenching your bottoms. He apologizes and insists on helping you clean up though getting awfully close to your crotch, but both of you are too tipsy to notice.

→ After the liquor spill, you swap embarrassing love stories and lament over the “hardships of being single.” (Denki’s words.)

→ A few hours pass. You’re tired and ready to go home and Denki requests to walk you home to make sure you get back safely. Not that you live far, maybe ten minutes, but by the time you reach your door, you feel like you've known the electric blond your whole life. After saying goodbye and almost closing the door, Denki blurts out a half-drunken confession...or something like that:

“I—uh, y-you are—uhm, no…this is—“

→ You give him a look, a half-smile at best, and it seems to churn the gears in his brain again.

“This was uhm, really fun and uh, I think you’re really cool.”

→ So naturally, when you invite him inside, he squeals.

→ After a few more drinks and a few more spillages (Denki’s never been a deft drunk), you two finally get over your inner thoughts and start kissing on the couch. It’s hot and messy, and the alcohol in your veins makes it oh, so hot.

→ Denki doesn’t expect you to offer head but when you do he nearly cries, scrambling to pull his pants off while you make space for yourself between his thighs.  Due to the fact that there’s alcohol pumping in Denki’s veins and he hasn't been touched by someone else in at least a year, he’s extra-sensitive. And vocal. 

"F-Fuck gorgeous, you're so good at this...o-oh shit, do that again—yeah, yeah just like that."

→ His hips quiver, and he bucks into your mouth on accident. It earns him a glare and a light slap on the thigh, and you make a mental note to unpack the broken moan that interrupts his apology later. 

→ It doesn't take Denki a long time to cum—five minutes max. He plans to give you a warning but his orgasm runs up on the electric blond so quickly he doesn't even get a warning. When Denki orgasms in your mouth with a choked moan, it's only natural that you pull away in alarm, ribbons of semi-translucent cum flying just about everywhere.

→ To say you're pissed is an understatement (because your poor, poor carpet), but Denki feels terrible and is already reaching for the roll of paper towels you left on the coffee table from your cleaning spree this morning, apologies flying out of his mouth like an auctioneer.

→ Obviously, he's going to make it up to you. Not only for making an absolute mess in your living room (seriously, Denki doesn't know if he's ever come that much in his life) but for the bomb head, and he wants to make you feel just as good as you made him feel.

→ Both of you stumble to your room, the mood miraculously rekindled, and you're not sure what to make of Denki's desperation as he claws at your bottoms, pupils blown to the size of dinner plates. And though it's cheesy, you can't help but shiver when he finally gets eyes on your sex, wetting his bottom lip and the grip around your thigh tightening as he catcalls the apex between your thighs before diving in.

"Hello pretty~"

→ Like any pervert with a vivid imagination, Denki's got a mental warehouse of sex tips and tricks and burns to watch you squirm from his touch. He wants you red-faced and breathless and isn’t shy about it, actively paying attention to your reactions when he curls his fingers or uses his tongue just right.

"Oh, you taste so good sweet thing. So pretty and wet...did I do all this, gorgeous?”

→ Also, electro-stimulation? Yes please.

→ Denki's tentative about it at first because he’s not sure how you’ll react, but once you give him that pretty little moan you've been holding back all evening, you two are going nowhere but hell.

→ His dick hurts from being hard for so long and the second you cum, he’s practically begging to fuck you.

“Please? Please gorgeous? Shit, you felt so good in my mouth I just wanna—I need to—please?”

→ Like you needed any convincing in the first place.

→ You ride him per his request—and will definitely make you repeat things back to him, just because he likes how embarrassed and blushy you get. If you refuse? He’ll be an absolute tease about it. (But only for a bit, because we all know his patience isn’t that great.)

"Yeah? You like this cock? Tell me. Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, gorgeous."

→ There's no way Denki lasts very long (again)—definitely with you in his lap. When he cums, it’s cute and breathless, and his nose scrunches into his eyes. But if he came twice, you should too right?

→ The next morning, Denki's gone. But in his place, there’s a note with his number and an explanation:

had to go to work! lol i have the fattest hangover kill me now ty. either way, you should text me. i wasn't kidding when i said i thought you were cool lol.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx

— kaminari

[a/n: gah XD my brain melted from writing that um-

also don’t worry about the family of four at the love hotel...they were...um...forced to stay there due to an emergency...lol :) see you soon, angels <3]

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.5

masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience! Honestly I struggled so hard with this chapter and I don’t know why, I wrote and deleted things so many fucking times (overthinking, as usual), so I hope this lives up to your expectations! ☺️ and thank you for all of your love for this fic—you’ve all truly made my heart explode! 🥰 also, really sorry if I’ve missed any tags! Okay, here we go!

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catish’ Morales x f!reader

Word count: lmao... just under 5.6k I’m sorry

Warnings: okay, let’s see... swearing, ✨ smut—finally ✨ 18+, no minors! fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap people), masturbation (f), cum shot, cum eating, Frankie’s a messy pussy eater and no I will not be taking constructive criticism because he’s a thirsty man and you know I’m right. I think that’s it! (please let me know if there’s something I should add!)

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.6

+

Fuck. He was really here.

He was really here, in the dim lighting of your tiny apartment, hands buried in his pockets as he watches you shuffle on the spot.

Well shit. Now what?

“Um, so... this is my apartment.” Duh—you idiot.

You frown a little at yourself, palms clamming up with nerves. Your usual moves had all but vanished from your mind. You used to be good at this, so fucking good, but now, with Frankie standing right in front of you in all of his fucking glorious flannelette perfection, you felt a little out of your depth.

How did this shit usually go? You can’t remember. Fuck, you can’t remember. How did you get from point A to point B? Shit. You’re going to embarrass yourself. You can feel it. Oh my god, are you sweating?

Oblivious to your inner turmoil, his gaze flickers around at your words, taking in the many small personal details that make the space your own which he had missed earlier, before landing back on you, eyes darkening as your tongue slips out and runs along your bottom lip.

“It’s nice.” He comments, voice coming out a lot huskier than normal. You can’t help but clench in response, insides twisting pleasantly as his raspy tone settles in your ears.

“Can I—can I get you anything? Coffee?”

Stop. This is ridiculous. The both of you were damn near close to combusting in the truck and now you’re offering coffee? You might as well just show him his way out.

He senses your nerves then, relieved he wasn’t the only one seemingly unsure of how to move this along, but keeps his eyes on you, testing the waters as he speaks, “Maybe in the morning.”

Well, fuck. Okay then.

You swallow, chest heaving slightly as you inhale, heart fluttering away in your chest. God, just kiss him. You don’t need a build-up, just do it. You could feel the ghost of his previous kisses along your lips, could feel the heat of his hands run across your body from when he had pressed you up against the windmill. You needed it all again.

It’s quiet as you both study each other, lost in feeling of growing arousal as your clock ticks slowly somewhere in the background, and then something just snaps.

You both jump forward at the same time, Frankie’s arms immediately wrapping around your waist and bringing you flush against his body while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging sharply and pulling a low groan from him as his lips eagerly mash against yours.

The strength that you meet each other with throws you both off balance, and you stumble into your dining table, breathing a quiet chuckle at the apology he mutters against your lips. You shift to sit on the edge of it, widening your thighs to make room for him as he steps closer and presses his hips tightly against yours.

Your hands shake as you desperately attack the buttons of his flannelette shirt, all but ripping the damn thing down his arms when it eventually parts, and making a small noise of impatience when your hands slide along cotton instead of skin. He briefly pulls away from your mouth, hands quick to tug the plain t-shirt he had worn underneath his shirt up and off his torso, melting back into you the second he drops it to the floor.

Holy shit.

His skin is warm and smooth under your palms as they hungrily feel along his chest and dip along his stomach, grabbing desperately at his waist when his tongue slides into your mouth. He responds eagerly to your touch, pushing your dress up and out of the way to run his hands along on the bare skin of your legs. They stop just below the line of your panties, his thumbs tracing along the inside of your thighs and smoothing dangerously close to your covered pussy.

He feels your muscles move under his touch, feels the whimper fall from your mouth and into his when he squeezes your thighs. Your hips roll forward automatically, needing his touch to go just that little bit higher.

“Please touch me,” you plead quietly, lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him and his chest tightens.

His fingers are quick to move the lace aside and fuck—

He watches your face with open wonder; watches how your eyes close when his fingers lightly trace over you, watches how your breath catches when his thumb swipes through your arousal and spreads it over your swollen clit, rubbing soft insistent circles that have your toes curling in your shoes.

“Frankie—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the skin of your throat, tongue circling over your pulse point before his nose trails up and along your jaw, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips while your face pinches in pleasure, brows burrowing and grip tightening on his arms.

“More… please—”

He hums lowly, a finger soon swiping through your folds and prying at your entrance, sliding into the wet heat of your pussy with no resistance. You’d been ready for hours, practically dripping for him the second he first laid his hands on you. Your breath catches when he curls it, curious and searching, his lips twisting into a smug grin when your back suddenly arches, a startled cry falling from your lips.

“There we go.” And then he’s pressing soft kisses along your temple, adding a second finger into the mix and thrusting steadily, grinding his palm along your clit as he does so.

He drags it out and you hate that you fucking love it.

With the patience of a saint, he works you slowly, more than happy to drag out your pleasure as long as he likes. He holds you close with his spare hand supporting the back of your neck as you arch into him, lips never straying too far from yours as his fingers drive you closer and closer to the edge.

And then he changes something, moves his fingers just the right way, and it hits you out of nowhere.

Slamming into you like a freight train, the blissful torture hits its peak, and then you’re crashing down, nails digging into his arms as your pussy gushes around him and he’s quickly leaning in, swallowing the cry that flies from your lips.

His fingers slow before he gently pulls them out and then your hands are desperately reaching for his face, teeth clashing slightly as your mouths meet harshly.

“Bedroom?” He mutters hoarsely, throbbing in his jeans and aching to spread you out somewhere more comfortable, to see and feel more of you properly.

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up and register what he says, but when it does, you’re slipping off the table onto unsteady feet and grabbing his hand, stumbling in your haste to get to your room. He works the dress from your body on the way, hands eagerly spreading across the newly bared skin as you spin in his arms, meeting his lips as he backs you to the bed.

“My turn?” You question sweetly against his mouth, hands trailing lightly over the bulge digging into you before landing on his belt, fingers making quick work of the buckle.

He grins, stilling your hands. “Not even close—get on the bed.”

As soon as your ass meets the bedding, he’s on his knees in front of you, warm hands smoothing up along the soft skin of your legs and gently spreading your thighs. You brush a stray curl from his forehead softly as you recline onto your elbow, fingers gently trailing along the side of his face as he smiles at you, turning to kiss your palm softly before his hands are greedily grabbing at your panties and pulling them down your legs.

There’s no working up to it this time… no patience, no soft strokes.

Frankie dives in like a man starved, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads your legs and licks a long, wide strip along your pussy. You feel him groan against you, your hips squirming on the bed as he tries to pull you closer against his mouth, tongue probing at your pussy and hungrily lapping up the mess he had made of you on the table.

Your hand moves to wind into his soft hair, whimpers falling from your mouth as his facial hair tickles at your thighs and tongue rubs relentless strokes over your clit.

Body still strung out and sensitive from the orgasm he had all but ripped from you before, it doesn’t take long for the gentle strokes of his tongue to build another, your stomach clenching as he tightens his hands, feeling the unsteady shake of your legs in his hold.

You dance precariously on the edge, stomach clenching in anticipation. “Frankie, I—fuck—I’m—”

His mouth works you faster, “Fuck, please—”

You shatter at his softly spoken plea, back arching and hand tightening into a fist as you tug harshly at his hair, crying out and drowning the sound of his own groan as you flood his mouth. He takes everything you give him, tongue diving to push into your pussy as you ride out and come down from your high. He pulls off of you with a small pant, licking his lips and brushing his chin with the back of his hand.

You make a small noise of contentment, “Thank you.”

He chuckles quietly, grinning at the look of blissed out mortification that washes your face following your words as he climbs over you. “You’re welcome.”

You grind your hips against his when he presses into you, hissing when your sensitive clit rubs against the rough denim, but your message gets across loud and clear, Frankie’s eyes darkening as he moves in to kiss you slowly. He breaks away for a brief moment to kick his jeans off, and then he’s covering you again, warm body pressing you into the mattress.

“I have a—”

You make a noise of refusal, hands reaching around to grab at his back to keep him on top of you. “Wanna feel you… ‘m safe—”

He can’t help the small groan that falls from his lips, nodding as he dives in for another kiss. “Me too—”

You whimper when he shifts his hips, slotting further between your thighs. He slides the head of his cock between your slick folds, slowly rocking back and forth across your clit and your chest heaves in anticipation, eyes falling shut when you feel him start to slowly slide into you. Fucking finally—

He fills you slowly, cock rubbing deliciously against your walls and you arch into him when he finally bottoms out, his face falling to rest in the curve of your shoulder. He shudders under your hands when he pulls out, thrusting softly into you and cursing quietly when your pussy flutters around him.

You whine, “Fuck. You feel so—”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish. He starts moving, hips moving back before slamming forward again and again, the breath escaping your lungs as he moves to rest on his forearms, lips seeking yours for one more bruising taste of your mouth before he pulls completely away. A hand grabs your thigh, hitching it high around his waist and groaning quietly when he hits deeper on the next push.

You’re lost in a hazy sea of pleasure as he starts to move, frantic in his thrusts, the incoherent mumbling falling from your lips driving him to push harder. You have to smother your mouth with your hand to stifle your scream when he grabs your head board, using it as leverage as his hips start to ram harshly into yours.

He knocks the hand away from your mouth, eyes fierce, “I want to hear you.”

“Fuck—”

A thumb starts rubbing at your clit and you sob from the overstimulation, the burn of it sending shocks throughout your body as your body tenses beneath him, fighting the overwhelming sense of it being too fucking much while clinging to the heat of climax quickly building in your core.

“Come on—”

Your body responds to his words immediately. You’re not even sure what sounds comes out of your mouth when your body completely shatters from the inside out, stars blinding you as your pussy clamps down around him. His hips stutter and then he’s quickly pulling out and away from you, fisting his cock with a quiet groan until his cum is painting your pussy, covering your clit and sliding down your slick folds, mixing with your cum leaking from your entrance.

He all but collapses on top of you, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You’re too tired to open your eyes and watch him as he moves away, bed dipping as he stands and disappears.

A wet warmth covers your thoroughly wrecked pussy, and you blearily blink your eyes open to watch him softly clean you with a face cloth, smiling lazily at him when he glances up at you softly. He throws it into the laundry basket by the door and climbs up next to you, gently manoeuvring your tired body under the sheets before wrapping around you.

You blindly reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers as your body slowly calms and melts into the mattress and into the body radiating warmth behind you. The last thing you feel are soft lips pressing against your temple, a hushed goodnight ringing in your ears.

-

Soft fingers tracing down along your nose drags you gently from sleep the next morning. The smile that stretches your lips is automatic as your eyes focus on Frankie, dressed in his clothes from yesterday and perched on the bed next to you.

“I have to go.” He mutters, eyes soft and apologetic as the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheek.

“Oh,” you try not to let the disappointment flood your tone, but your face doesn’t get the message as it falls into a pout.

“I know—I’m sorry.” He smiles, fingers still caressing the skin across your face. Your chest tightens the longer he gazes softly at you, something shining deep in his eyes that makes your heart race. “Can I take you out for dinner sometime in the week?”

Delight radiates from your chest as you smile, nodding eagerly. “That would be nice.”

“Last night was…” he trails off, unable to find the words to describe what he felt about the evening before, and a flush of pink grows along his cheeks, his stomach flipping as your moans echo in his ears.

How the fuck is he meant to go about his day and run errands when the picture of you spread out beneath him and crying out his name as you cum keeps playing over and over in his mind like a fucking prime time movie?

“Incredible.” You provide softly, blinking shyly up at him as he grins.

“Incredible.” He agrees just as quietly, feeling like a complete idiot with how hard he was smiling. What was it Benny said the other day? Whipped.

You hold your breath when he leans down, nose scrunching slightly when his moustache tickles your upper lip, his mouth moving unhurriedly as his tongue slides against yours and quickly turning your brain to complete mush. You hum as he moves away, nose brushing softly against yours.

“Are you sure you have to go? You can’t stay for just a few more minutes?” You breathe against his lips, heat spreading across your skin as his eyes darken and slowly lower to where the sheets only just cover your breasts. He groans quietly, flicking a hand out to check his watch and brows pinching as he studies the face of it.

“A few minutes,” he finally decides, hand ripping the sheet away and lips curling up as you yelp in surprise.

He spreads your legs with firm hands, shuffling onto his stomach as he flings your thighs over his shoulders. You sit up onto your elbows, laughing quietly.

“This wasn’t what I had in—oh.”

Fuck—

His finger’s part you gently before his tongue is softly moving over your clit in wide, lazy strokes, and you fall back onto the bed with a whimper, unable to resist grinding against his mouth. Your hand blindly reaches down and soon warm fingers are interlacing with yours, his thumb rubbing across your skin as his lips wrap around your clit.

Fire erupts in your core, electric heat spreading throughout your body as he steadily works his mouth against you, nose brushing your clit as his tongue dives into your pussy, his groan muffled as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck Frankie, so good—”

His movements turn frenzied, face pressing up harder against you as his tongue swirls sloppily around your clit, the sounds filling the room obscene as he hungrily laps and sucks at your pussy. All you can do is hold on, the hand intertwined with his tightening as your other flies to his ruffled curls, tugging sharply.

Holy shit, just like that—

You struggle to fill your lungs, struggle to feel anything other than his mouth and how it works savagely against you, pushing you higher and higher until you’re right fucking there—

He feels your legs tense, and anchors himself to you with an arm across your hips, groaning when you cry out and gush around his mouth, coating his tongue and chin.

His mouth is still on you when the wave of bliss dissolves into a dull tingle, hurried movements now languid as his tongue smooths through your folds, his head resting against your inner thigh. You watch him through tired eyes, hand gently brushing his hair from his forehead as his eyes close at the soft caress, tongue curling one more lazy swirl over your pussy before he presses a light kiss to your clit and sits up.

“Now I really have to go.”

-

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Benny yells across the café, ignoring the heads that turn to frown at him. Frankie rolls his eyes, hand running through his hair as he quickly advances to the small group and slides into the booth.

“Sorry—truck wouldn’t start.”

“Mhm.” Santiago hums lowly, hiding a grin behind his cup as he sips his coffee, eyeing Frankie with a critical eye. “What was wrong with it?”

“What?”

Benny crosses his arms on the table and leans forward, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Your truck—what was wrong with it?”

Frankie shrugs, eyes falling to browse the menu in front of him. “Battery.”

Now fucking drop it.

Pope raises a brow, “Was it flat?”

Fucking Pope—

“Sure.”

Will snorts across the table, grinning wryly as Frankie glares at him. “’Sure’? It was either flat or it wasn’t.”

Fucking Miller—

“Look—I’m here now, let’s just eat so I can go and get Mena.”

The table goes quiet and Frankie sighs in relief, his eyes falling back to his menu. It stays quiet for so long that Frankie actually starts to think the subject has been dropped.

He should’ve known better.

“Fish got laid.” Benny coos softly, Pope and Will snickering behind their menus as Frankie sighs deeply, lips twitching as he fights the grin spreading from their teasing.

-

Rain softly pelts the roof of the truck as you giggle against Frankie’s lips, his dark gaze softening as you smile up at him. You brush a hand softly across his cheek, pressing another zealous kiss to his lips which he returns eagerly, hand smoothing along your thigh and pushing under your skirt to squeeze your thigh, grinning when you whimper into his mouth.

You had said goodbye a few times already, each time ending the same way—lips locked in a bruising, passionate frenzy, neither of you quite ready to let the night come to a close. You break away with a sigh, head tilting as his mouth trails greedily along your throat, tongue soothing the sudden sting away as he nips at your skin.

“I wish you could come up.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. He shouldn’t be—it’s not like he didn’t want to. He had a toddler to get home to. You understood, of course, but it didn’t make the goodbye any easier.

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, his chest tightening as you do.

“You could...” he trails off, chewing his cheek in thought as he looks out of the windshield before turning to you, eyes showing the nervous uncertainty that had flooded him. “You could come back to mine, if—if you want to.”

You blink, pulling away to look up at him searchingly. “What about Mena?”

Would he want you out before dawn or something? Sneak out of the house like you were teenagers or some sort of one night stand? You know he meant no harm by it, but the thought of having to grab your clothes and disappear in the middle of the night had you feeling a little insulted.

“I don’t mind you staying... if you want to meet her. You don’t have to, I was just... I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s—it’s on the table, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” His hands rub along his jeans, wiping the nervous sheen of sweat that had gathered on his palms.

You’re quiet, letting his words soak in and thinking over it seriously. You had no kids, obviously, and no friends that had kids, either, but... wasn’t it a little early for something like this? Although, she was still young—it’s not like she’d know any different.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything. I know it’s early—”

“Can you wait while I pack a bag?”

His heart speeds up as he nods. Shit—was he nodding too fast? He returns your grin as you quickly hop from the truck and rush through the light rain and into your building, disappearing from his view as the door slams behind you.

Did he do the dishes? Fuck—he left his folded laundry on his bed. Why didn’t he just put it away earlier?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he could fake going to the bathroom and just throw them into his cupboard before you saw anything. Yeah—that’ll work. It’s fine.

You reappear sooner than he expected, a small overnight bag slung over your shoulder and he can’t help the elation that floods his face, grin making his cheeks ache as he quickly leans over the seat and shoves the door open for you. His hand doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way to his place, your fingers drawing random patterns on the back of it as you listen to him sing softly to the music playing from the speaker.

The first thing you notice when he pulls into his driveway is how perfect his house seems to fit him, and he chuckles when you tell him as much. You stay wrapped into his side as he holds his jacket over your head to keep you from getting too wet, quickly ushering you up and onto his porch just in time as the rain comes down heavier.

He ushers you in when he finally gets the door open, and your giggling stops short at the amused gaze you get from the dark-haired man shrugging his jacket on in the entryway.

You wave politely, feeling like an idiot, standing close to the door as Frankie steps in behind you. “Hi,”

The man fixes his jacket on his shoulders, his dark knowing eyes sliding from you to Frankie as a sly grin starts to work its way onto his face.

“Hi. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He replies, grin widening as Frankie comes to stand next to you, nervously fiddling with his keys.

How the fuck did he completely forget about Pope? Jesus Christ—

Santiago reads the message rolling through his friend’s eyes—a big fat ‘get the fuck out now’, but instead of heeding the unspoken warning and disappearing, he leans his hip on the back of the couch, thoroughly enjoying the twist of Frankie’s features as he makes himself comfortable.

He holds a hand out, “I’m Santiago—the good looking one of the group.”

Frankie rolls his eyes as you give your name in return and shake the outstretched hand, turning to throw his keys in the bowl sitting on the table next to the door, and hissing a quiet insult under his breath.

“That’s debatable,” is your immediate reply, your eyes shooting to land appreciatively on Frankie with a smile, watching the angry flush of pink rise along the skin of his throat as he grins back at you.

Pope watches quietly, eyes flickering between the both of you before he chuckles. “You guys are cute. You need a rubber, Fish? Whoa—hey—okay, I’m going—”

You bite your lip to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest, watching Frankie immediately wrangle Santiago under his arm and all but shove him out the door. Pope throws you a wave over his shoulder, grinning as he mutters something you didn’t catch in Spanish that had Frankie straightening up and growling a retort.

Your eyes roam around the room as the two men bicker behind you, taking in the comforting warmth that oozes from the space.

You step forward to wander the lounge quietly, smiling as you study the many pictures hung perfectly square on the walls. Your eyes find the familiar faces of Benny and Will in a few of them, along with Santiago and another taller man.

You pause on one, heart fluttering and chest tightening as you study Frankie, darks eyes locked on the blanketed bundle in his arms. The one next to it is newer, more recent—a bright eyed little toddler perched on his hip as they both grin at the camera, colourful streamers hanging above them and a giant ‘1’ balloon in the background.

Fatherhood suited him. He was glowing.

The sound of the door closing has your attention returning to him, eyes fond as you watch him start making his way to you.

“She’s a mini-you.”

He grins, looking at the photo of him and Mena, and nodding. “I know—poor thing.”

He laughs when you slap his chest lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leading you further into his home. “Would you like anything?”

“I won’t say no to another kiss, and maybe something else.”

He turns on his heel instantly, brow rising as he winds an arm around your waist and dips you slightly back with a curious ‘oh?’. You grab at his arms, giggling as you clutch his sleeves, “Frankie!”

He chuckles deeply, lips pressing softly against yours. You sigh at the feel of them, your hand cupping his cheek as his tongue slides out to meet yours, his hand grabbing a greedy handful of your ass and bringing your hips flush against his. You’re both completely oblivious to the door reopening behind you.

“I forgot my phone—don’t mind me.”

“Pope—” Frankie barks, frowning over your head as Santiago jogs to the couch and holds his phone up, wiggling it in his hold.

“What? I’m not looking.”

Santiago disappears, the door clicking softly behind him and you grin, kissing the corner of Frankie’s lips as he eyes the door, half expecting Pope to come waltzing right back in with some other bullshit excuse.

“Frankie…”

His dark eyes meet yours instantly, his stomach flipping at the mischievous shine in your gaze.

“There is something I’d really like.” You continue quietly, straightening up and slowly pushing him back towards his couch.

He’s putty in your hands, wide eyes blinking at you in awe as you run your tongue along your lip. He drops onto the couch with a small exhale when you push him, heart thundering in his ears as you drop to your knees in front of him.

“Can I?” You reach for his belt, fingers running along the cool metal of the buckle.

Fuck. You’re so pretty.

He must’ve spoken aloud because a shy smile curls your lips, eyes briefly falling before flickering back up at him from beneath your lashes. Your fingers move when he gives a shaky nod of consent, quickly working the belt open and diving for the button of his jeans.

Wait—

“Hold on a second?” He stands, carefully stepping around you and walking to his door, locking every latch and bolting the deadlock securely before turning and making his way back to you. “I don’t need Pope interrupting this.” He mutters in quiet explanation, lips twitching at your chuckle.

He settles himself back in front of you, inhaling deeply when your fingers work his jeans open and pull them down his legs. He’s already half hard, the mere idea of your mouth going anywhere near his cock enough to stir a hunger deep in his belly.

“You didn’t let me have a turn when you stayed over.” You accuse quietly, hand wrapping around him and giving a slow tug, working him softly until he was fully hard and pulsing in your hand.

“’m sorry,” he mutters, tongue running his lower lip as you continue to work him gently, his hips squirming under your ministrations.

“I think about this all the time.” You admit, eyes watching his cock throb in your grasp. “How you’d feel, how you’d taste.”

Holy shit—you did?

He makes a quiet noise when your thumb brushes over the head of his cock, collecting the small drop of precum that beads there and smoothing it along his skin. You watch it glisten, pussy clenching as it smears silkily under your thumb.

“Can I taste you, Frankie?”

He’s nodding before you even finish.

The wet heat of your mouth envelopes his cock and he exhales sharply, hands flying to grab at the cushion beneath him. He can’t help but buck into your mouth when your tongue slides along his slit, collecting the precum you had spread there, before running it along the underside of his cock.

You moan at the salty taste of him on your tongue, hands finding purchase on his thighs as you push yourself to take him deeper, fighting the resistance at the back of your mouth and taking him down your throat, holding steady as he curses above you.

Pulling back, you inhale sharply before starting to bob your head, lips wrapping tightly around his cock and sucking lightly as your hand moves to pump what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, so perfect—”

Your panties feel slick as your thighs rub together, your arousal soaking the fabric as Frankie moans quietly, head dropping to fall back against the couch in bliss. You run your free hand under your skirt, whimpering when your fingers press against your clit through the lace and start to rub little circles in time with the movement of your head.

You take him deeper, saliva pooling and spilling from your mouth as you gag around him, your pussy aching with the need to have something, anything, filling it. You hear nothing but Frankie; nothing but the small whimpers and whines that fall from his lips, and your fingers slip into your panties, swiping along your slit before thrusting them into your pussy, your moan muffled as you take him down your throat again.

His eyes fall to the hand disappearing under your skirt, your hips moving in time to whatever the fuck your fingers are doing and his stomach tightens.

“Fuck. Are you—” his eyes flicker up from your hips to watch your brows pinch together in pleasure and then he’s fucking done for; the thought of you getting yourself off while sucking his cock completely tearing him to pieces.  He groans loudly, cock throbbing and twitching as cum spurts from his tip and floods your eager mouth.

His hot release hits your tongue and back of your throat, and paired with the incoherent praises spilling from his mouth, it triggers your own body shattering climax. You choke out a moan from around him as your walls tighten around your fingers, his cum overflowing and spilling from your lips as you struggle with the fullness of him down your throat.

You slip your fingers out from your fluttering pussy and sit back on your heels with a heaving gasp once his cock starts to soften in your mouth, tongue messily lapping at the cum that spilt over your skin.

He dives forward eagerly, lips wrapping around your fingers and groaning as your familiar taste floods his tongue. He soon moves to your mouth, tongue catching the drop of his cum from your chin before he’s pushing it into your mouth, groaning when your tongue eagerly swipes along his.

Your kisses soon turn tender, gazes gentle as you part from each other.

Something’s happening—you can feel it in your chest. A feeling tugs at your heart, soft and insistent. It grows when he smiles, radiates warmth when his hands take yours as he helps you from the floor. You briefly wonder what it could be before shaking the thought from your head, devoting your attention back to Frankie as he walks you through the house to his bedroom.

+

Tags: @anu-simps​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @withasideofmeg​ @you-got-me-starry-eyed​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @frannyzooey​ @wyn-dixie​ @intu-witch-tion​ @amneris21​ @mad-girl-without-a-box​ @pinguinstudiert​ @sergeantbannerbarnes​ @betterthanbucky​ @emilykjh​ @peterhollandkait​ @sara-alonso​ @starlightsearches​ @bookishofalder​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @shadowolf993​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @canyonmirrors​ @eoz-stuff​ @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​ @alberta-sunrise​ @goldielocks2004​ @linkpk88​ @afootnoteinyourhappiness​ @livilottie​ @hailmaryyramliah​ @kesskirata​ @blueeyesatnight​ @a-perfct-stranger​ @melaniermblt​ @dragcn-queen​ @gracie7209​ @mrsparknuts​ @janebby​

[ecoamerica]

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[thejudgingtrash]

Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.

YES.

That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!

Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.

And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.

But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.

Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.

This should count as a paper of its own.

Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:

Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.

Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.

Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.

The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!

To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.

The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.

The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.

We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.

People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me. 

There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.

I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).

The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.

The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?

If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.

People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).

And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.

That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).

Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.

This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.

People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:

You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.

Let me repeat that:

Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.

So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.

This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.

So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.

Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:

Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.

A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.

Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.

With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.

Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.

But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:

The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)

The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)

The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)

And these female characters only know three endings:

End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve

Get dumped into the hunt

Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something

We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.

Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.

But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.

I hope you people get my point?

Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.

TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.

Peace out.

[amphetamine-keen]

Live Blogging my reactions to the Marble Hornets comic series

I’m gonna put each issue in a different reblog, that way any followers don’t have to scroll through an assload of repeated posts. Everything should be below the [read more] but I dunno if it’s gonna work right with the reblogs.

filter out “#keen reads MH” if you’re worried (on top of the usual spoiler tags)

I have lit my favorite candle, made some tea, wrapped myself up, and Masky’s creepy black eyes are staring at me from the coffee table. So without further ado, let’s get into it.

I read the first issue when it came out, but it’s been a while, so I may as well be going in blind.

Jackie’s art blows me away every time. It’s just the right amount of cartoon and realism, and the water color adds to the spooky effect of the whole thing.

Loving the world building around the events of MH, especially that the weird shit that went down at Rosswood was noticed by more than a few people. Also that Jessica goes from a podcast about dealing with trauma, to listening to a conspiracy podcast directly relating to her own? Hysterical. I would do the same thing.

Everything about Jessica’s last delivery sets me on edge. We start strong with her losing a fair bit of time, and it only goes up from there.  She only gets one, so I think “in and out. Easy,” but they wouldn’t bother showing us the end of her day if nothing happens. Jessica’s already on edge after lunch, and I can feel it. It only gets worse as I read more of the podcast she’s chosen. She gets to the address and I can feel her anxiety spike. None of our MH crew has had good luck with dilapidated and abandoned buildings, and Jackie’s art style really ramps up the creepiness.  Then she sees her own name on a package, addressed to a house she doesn’t know. Which she knows is weird. Icing on the creepy cake.  (Also, Tim’s name at the bottom of the contacts on her phone? Love that. I can’t help but think Sydney’s name was chosen for that reason. Cute little easter egg)

Skully! Love this bitch! Holy shit! Our favorite spook! (I typically use “it” to refer to Skully, but for simplicity’s sake here I’ll be using “them” for Skully, and “it” for the Operator)

Jessica automatically picking up and brandishing a weapon at a weirdo in a mask? Very logical and very in character. Fuck ‘em up Jess!

Should I know who this jogger is? oh dope, she’s just a side character

Jess looks like shit, and she’s seeing the Operator? Fuck yes. I genuinely can’t tell if she’s hallucinating, or if it’s actually there. My bet is on both.

The black backed pages? FUCK YEAH I stg I can hear pages 34-37, and the torn edges of the panels are so clever. the whole thing is a nightmare sequence I could only dream of putting into words. The way the panels go back to normal on 36 as Jess sees someone and feels relieved only for it to be a lie? The edges deteriorating as she starts to panic again? Chef’s kiss.

I’m living for the way “Can you see me?” is emphasized

I’m interested to see what these two dudes are up to. I assume they’re the podcasters? At least the bearded one has some common sense.

Theory Time

I wonder how the events of the YT series are perceived in world. Clearly these guys think it’s fiction, but there’s got to be a reason why Alex and Jay were never reported missing. 

Jay said that the white shirt guy was never reported missing or dead either after Alex brained him in the tunnel. Perhaps the Operator took them to that same sort of pocket dimension where Tim found white-shirt’s body? Whether or not that’s the “ark” is up for debate Regardless, I wonder if some weird reality fuckery happens when the Operator takes someone there which messes up their place in the normal dimension, where it just kind of erases them? I can’t wait to see.

[mrstaeminlee]

Mission Complete Ch 2

You had two goals in life. One: Complete your squad training without dying. Two: Fuck Levi Ackerman

Pairings: Levi/f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, eventual smut, lmk if I need to add anything~

Seven months later

Training under Captain Levi was a bitch. Rewarding as hell, but a fucking bitch. To make it worse, your time with the man was making your seemingly one sided thirst turn itself into something more, which you were absolutely unprepared for. It almost made you miss your training under the commendant, nasty death breath be damned.

You found that while it certainly drove you to your physical and mental limits, you genuinely liked the man you had spent the past few months trying to impress, even if he made your life a living hell by constantly asking more of you than he did any of the other prospective additions to his prestigious team. Wondering why, you briefly entertained the thought that maybe he held some sort of physical or emotional attraction towards you, but as you reflected on your interactions with the captain the past seven months you couldn't pinpoint anything that would be considered fanfiction worthy. There had been no lingering touches, no longing gazes from across the training grounds, not even so much as a wanting glance at your breasts that you tried so desperately to flaunt as naturally as possible when he would observe you all sparring. No, all you had to show for the past 212 days was having your face slammed into the dirt more times than you cared to count and an intimate connection with somehow always getting punished to deep clean the mess hall.

When some squad member whose name you couldn't be bothered to remember dropped by to give you a notice to be on the training grounds three hours earlier than normal, your best guess was that you had found some way to fuck something up without realizing and you would get to clean that fucking hall - again.

Unable to sleep for more than a few hours, you decided to forget trying to sleep, and a couple of orgasms courtesy of your well used friend later you decided to say fuck it, and got out of bed, grabbing your things to shower and get ready for the day even though not even the fucking sun had decided to grace the compound with it's presence. After cleaning yourself up and making sure all of your straps were secure you made your way to the training grounds, making a side trip to steal a thick chunk of bread and some cheese for your breakfast. With still a half hour to spare before the time you were supposed to be on the grounds by, you took your time making your way there, appreciating the empty halls and the quiet. Between training, having roommates, and a shared mealtime, quiet wasn't really something you got to experience anymore. Even your showers were normally noisy since private shower stalls appeared to be out of the military budget. Figures, a government run by men, you bet they thought about you hot female scouts showering together all the time. You took in the smell of the early morning air and took a hearty bite of the bread, shoving the thought of perverted and corrupt old men out of your mind and grabbed your water bottle to wash it down as you made your way across. Deciding you'd had enough sightseeing of the place you had literally spent over half a year you decided to just wait for whoever was supposed to meet you and you quickened your pace to get to the training field, chomping down the last of your breakfast.

After you arrived and had verified no one else was there you plopped down angrily onto a grassy area, figuring at least one other person should be there by now. Looking back, you didn't recall anyone else receiving any type of notice after dinner. You groaned loudly, running your fingers through your still damp hair. "Mother fucker, if one of those fucking fucks tricked me into waking up early I swear to-"

"You have quite the mouth on you, don't you Scout? I don't recall hearing you speak like that even after getting pounded into the ground by Reiner."

Choking on your spit from surprise and also wondering why the fuck he decided he had to word it like that you sprung to your feet, turning around and forming a proper salute. Oh Jesus.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I thought for a moment that someone had pranked me. I won't swear like that again, sir!" I swear to God if you make me clean the mess hall one more time I'll-

Levi smirked.

Holy shit.

"Relax, Scout, we both know you're lying about that. I'm the one that sent the notice for you, did you even bother noticing my signature at the bottom?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over those deliciously strong chest muscles.

Your eyes widened. To be honest, all you had seen on the notice was the time and place to be, you hadn't even thought of looking to see who had sent it. "You...you sent for me, sir?" Your confused tone seemed to amuse him, if his cocked eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Yes, you dumbass brat. You need to start reading things thoroughly," he frowned then, "I didn't take you as the type to be so thoughtless. Now, do you have any idea why I would have sent for you so early?"

Because clearly if you don't get to sleep none of us fucking do.

"No sir!"

"Put down the fucking salute, Scout, it's just you and me here."

You obeyed immediately, shifting into a more relaxed stance as you crossed your arms under your chest. You were almost positive you imagined him glancing down for the briefest of seconds but just as quickly brushed off the thought. You could only be so lucky; this wasn't some badly written fanfiction, after all. "No offense Captain, but I have no idea why I'm here. Did I do something to piss someone off? Did I piss YOU off?"

Levi rolled his eyes. "No. I want you-"

Holy FUCK-

"-to join my squad."

Oh.

Was it the moment you'd been training for for almost 3 years?

Yes.

Was it something you ever thought would happen?

Not quite.

Were you a little (okay, a significant amount of) disappointed when he continued to speak after the word 'you'?

Absolutely.

You grinned anyway.

"I thought you'd never ask, Cap."

Tags: @levisbebe @dannylothbrok

[anonymous0writer]

Brat II Rafe Cameron

Author: @anonymous0writer​

Request: Yes! @jayjaymaebank​ really out here giving me these smutty requests lol. 

“nothing like talking back to rafe and he fucking choke slams me to the bed and he’s like “so you wanna be a little brat huh ill show you a little brat” 

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Swearing. a tiny bit of a choking kink oop if you squint. and drumrolllllll dom!rafe (but lets be real, when is he not?) 

A/N: Damn you guys, I have seven more smut requests lol. 

Also, just saying: I do not like murder Rafe. I do not write for him. I only write soft Rafe. We stan soft Rafe, not the murdering one.

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You’d been a brat all day. Talking back and annoying your boyfriend. Pestering him and making him huff in annoyance. You even made him get up and walk away because he didn’t want to say anything he didn’t mean. 

But you only had one goal in mind that made you act this way. Sex. Sure, you got it all the time with the horny idiot you called your boyfriend, but you loved when he was completely dominant and made it impossible to form a coherent thought afterwards.

So let’s just say it was an understatement that you were thrilled when Rafe came into his bedroom, face mischievous with a slight twist of annoyance. You were laying on his bed, shorts bunching up around your thighs, giving a view of much more skin than intend, and your red bikini top was smaller than it was last year. You’d been parading around in the outfit all day, lounging by the pool, annoying your boyfriend and talking with Sarah, making sure whenever you picked something up, you gave your boyfriend a good look of your ass.

Rafe’s cerulean eyes met yours, and his lips twitched into a devilish smirk. You leaned back a bit, heart jumping wildly in your rib cage. 

“You’ve been a brat all day, Y/N.” 

You hummed, a giddy smile adorning your face, but you quickly tamped it down. “Was I? Or was someone just grumpy?” You gave your boyfriend a mocking frown, eyes challenging him. 

You sat up, sliding off the massive bed and sidled up to him. You looked up at him from your long lashes, trying not to crane your head at even look the tall boy in the eyes.

“I think someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” You drawled, and poked him in the chest, a dangerous smirk playing on your lips. You arched a brow and cocked your head. 

“You really want to do this?” He asked, hand enclosing your your wrist as he yanked your hand away from his chest as he backed you up against the bed. Your lips parted and you felt yourself go wet with anticipation. You swallowed as you maintained eye contact. He gave you a look that said, ‘answer me’.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You answered, voice wavering as your desire grew stronger. 

“So you wanna be a little brat huh? I’ll show you a little brat,” He grunts, hand coming up to grip your throat slightly and he tips you back onto the bed. Rafe crawls over you, mouth descending over yours immediately.

His tongue runs along your lips as your hands thread into his hair, messing with the neatly kept gelled locks. You open your mouth and can’t help the moan that releases from your throat as his hands slip over your breasts. His quick fingers find the strings of your bikini top and tug, letting the material slid down your shoulders. Rafe tugs the material off and throw

“Gonna make you pay for that, baby girl.” He murmurs, hands playing your breasts as he leaves your lips to kiss the underside of you jaw and down your neck. 

You moan as he finds the sweet spot on his neck. Rafe continues his attack of kisses, making sure his hands rile you up and make you needy. 

“Rafe please,” You breath, the spot between your thighs aching for more.

Rafe ignores you, head dropping to your chest as he pleases you. Trying to find friction you rub your thighs together in attempt to ease the ache. Your boyfriend catches on and parts your legs, tsking softly at you. 

“No baby, I get to do that.” 

“Just fuck me Rafe!” You moan, meeting his eyes in a challenging stare. 

“You sure princes? You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” 

You moan at the thought and nod, burying your face into his chest. “Please, Rafe?”

Rafe is quick to rid himself and you of the rest of your clothes. You press needy kisses to his neck, trying to distract yourself from the growing ache between your legs. Rafe’s cold hands slid along your thighs as he widened them and slid into you. You moaned at the burst of pleasure.

He kept going, slamming into hard and pulling out only to repeat the process. Rafe did not relent as he kept his promise. You wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow and there’d be bruises on your hips. The coil in your stomach formed and tightened with every thrust. And pretty soon, it snapped. 

You moaned his name as you came. “Holy shit, Rafe.” You panted, eyes fluttering as the high washed over you.

But the boy only slowed, his hair messy and falling into his face, his face twisted into bliss as he rode out your high. But he was far from done. If he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, he would, especially if he was making you pay for your bratty behavior today.

The second time Rafe went slower, trying to catch his own breath, but he hit your g-spot repeatedly and went deeper. Your hands clutched the sheets as you arched into his touch, his finger tips leaving goosebumps over the plains of your skin. He grabbed your waist and pulled you down to meet with his hips, hitting deeper and bottoming out. You moaned loudly, unable to help it. 

“Louder, sweetheart.” The boy grunts, fingers digging into your waist as his speed picks up. The new coil in your stomach tightens to the point of threatening to snap. You whimper as pleasure rolls through you, calling out Rafe’s name as his thrusts become sloppier as he nears his high for the second time. 

“Fuck- Rafe!” You scream as the coil snaps and you clench hard around him, making him moan into your ear. You spill all over the boy as he does the same, cum marking your thighs and stomach. 

Rafe catches his breath, and then pulls out, rolling to the side and collapsing next to you. You pant, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Did you learn your lesson, princess?”

“Yes.” You pant, eyes falling shut. 

After a minute, you hear the sheets rustle and the pressure of the bed changed, signaling that Rafe got up. He comes back and you pry your eyes open. He cleans you up with a warm cloth, careful not to press too hard because your still extremely sensitive. He cleans himself up and pulls on boxes, grabbing a shirt for you. 

“Baby, you gotta go pee.” 

You mumble something and roll over, too tiered to do anything. Rafe helps you up and tugs his massive shirt over your head, kissing your forehead. You smile and wrap your arms around him as he helps you to the bathroom. You go pee and allow Rafe to hold you in his arms as you fall asleep quickly. 

But when you woke up the next morning, it was safe to say you weren’t leaving the bedroom and Rafe would have to wait on you.

[ecoamerica]

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