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toukenramblings · 3 years

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NSFW Headcanons: Kuwana Gou, Murakumo Gou, Kotegiri Gou

Alright, let’s get this shit started. The G-ho bros.

Warnings: S I N. Continuation to my sfw headcanons, this is for you mei mei~!

Kuwana Gou

Oh Kuwana’s body is so nice man. He works oh so hard so you gotta reward him sometimes! I’m not sorry when I say that his chest is just??? hold a king’s titties Just suck on his nipples, tweak and tug them. He’ll be putty in your hands. Can probs cum from taunting his chest alone if you push his buttons enough.

This brings me to the next subject. Marking. You can make very light bruises on Kuwana’s skin, it’s rather tough in some places but his thighs are super duper great to mark up. Change my mind. It’s the best man, like Kuwana won’t mind showing off the marks you gave him, he’s a bit shy about it especially when working in the fields. In turn, Kuwana doesn’t mind marking you up as well. It’s much softer though, in places you can easily hide.

Yeah about him taking off his clothing when its hot out, he doesn’t meant to get you horny on purpose! He does it as a convenience. It’s not that Kuwana is shy about his body or anything, he just takes it all in a sense of shy stride. Of course whatever the hell is under his pants are for you and you alone.

Massages always lead to sexy times whenever you two are in the mood. Sometimes you’ll just be straddling him as you work on his back, working out the knots in his muscles or Kuwana is having you in his lap or straddling you and massaging you! It gets heated pretty quickly.

Oh Kuwana is a bit of a switch but personally I say he’s a bottom leaning switch. But if he has to be on top, he’s a service top. Kuwawa wants to prioritize your pleasure over his, and that’s the most important thing to him after all! Just ensuring that you cum more times then he.

Oh see, you two would do some shower/bath sex but the fear of being caught is way too much yo. Since Kuwana adores bathing with you with whatever extent, he wants to feel connected. Besides, what if you two slip and fall! That’s his biggest fear! Teasing can be done here, but all of this stuff is for the bedroom.

Kuwana is oh so gentle with you in the bedroom. Nothing but soft praises, soft gasps, and so on! He rather quiet during the do, not because he isn’t enjoying it no! It’s because that’s how he is. He does get a lil loud but knows how to control himself.

His sex drive is rather low and he greatly prefers cuddling than doing the do but that doesn’t mean he won’t get in the mood! It’s rather easy to tell. He’ll get all flustered but most of all, consent is a big important thing to him. He’ll mostly ask you if you want to have sex or not.

No way is Kuwana teasing you in public, that’s private times man. That shit is only for you two alone! If you want to tease him in public, be his guest! He’ll be all stuttery and it’s cute to see him all worked up! His face all red, wanting to see what the hell you have under your clothing, fufufu.

Kuwana loves it when you two worship each other’s bods. He also loves it when he has really good access to your chest. So if you sit on his lap during sex he’ll love it!

Speaking of, no blindfolds for either of you. He wants you to see each other’s faces as you have sex! He wants to see exactly what he does to you!

Kuwana does masturbate but it’s a rare occurrence. As said, he has a pretty low sex drive but it tends to flare up randomly? He’ll do it in private though, he doesn’t wanna make much of a show of it. Maybe will steal some clothing from you to sniff and pleasure himself with, who knows.

Kuwana is always worried about your health so whenever you two are getting ready to do the do, he reads up and sets boundaries for you two. He would never hurt you after all! Gods forbid all that! He wants to make sure that you two are going to be comfortable during this. Safe words are present as well.

The idea of gagging Kuwana makes me feel things. Also will always hold your hand during sex.

As said above, Kuwana is super prepared for after care. He did study up on this and he puts your pleasure above his. So of course he’s prepared! Will clean you up, kiss your breath away, and ensure that you are okay in the end!

Murakumo Gou

It’ll take a loooong time before Kumo kumo is comfy with sex. The idea of doing it with you does sound nice but he worries that his tum may start to hurt and thus ruin the fun. Of course if you two are in a very comfortable relationship, his stomach pains will have gone down mostly. When he is ready to go to the next step, Murakumo will want to have a talk with you about it. He’ll want to set out boundaries, do’s and don’ts. So on and so forth!

Kumo has a slightly high sex drive once he’s comfortable in that space, the best way to get him going are hand kisses and sucking on his fingers. He will suck on yours as well! Oh dude he has such a nice tongue and that’s it. Yes he loves hand kisses and shit but using his fingers to gag you or your fingers to gag him??? Oh mAN.

Body worship is very importante for Murakumo. He wants to give you as much love as you give him. He wants to show you exactly how you make him feel! Expect him to mark you up a LOT. Mark him in return, it’s so great man. He will be shy about showing off his marks but man he’ll be so proud when you show off your marks.

Yes he’s into doggy style quite a bit, but loves it when you fuck in front of a mirror. He loves seeing your face whenever he plows into you, alternatively, if you’re on top, Kumo will always want to see your face as well! He has to judge and gauge how each movement you two do makes you feel! He has to make sure that you’re feeling good!!!

Is slightly into you getting a collar for him. Yes he’s a dog in that sense but a collar saying that he’s your property does make him smile a bit. It’s also really nice just to tug on the damn thing. but also is really into you wearing a collar too. he just really likes it when you two tug on each other’s collars okay? okay.

Oh dude when he tops, it’s lowkey pretty feral. He will not hesitate to ensure that you don’t walk for days. He’s pretty rough when he wants to be. Kumo kumo may be a switch at heart, but he slightly prefers to be on top, especially when he can service you! He also really really loves how you taste.

Yes Murakumo does masturbate often...ish. He gets off to your scent quite a bit. He can and will steal your shit to sniff and mess with his cock.

Your hands have to be held during sex! He loves holding your hand in general and hand kisses! He just loves feeling connected with you, no matter what!!!

Murakumo is also rather loud in bed, with sweet whimpers and whines. He loves it when you gag him! Fingers, clothing, whatever the hell! He also loves it when you sit on his fucking face.

Listen, Murakumo and your first time together is nothing short of soft and sweet. It’s nothing short of soft and holding each other gently as your bodies rock against each other. With soft kisses and open mouth kisses, oh man it’s great as hell.

Breeding kink maybe??????????????

Like Samidare, it’s kinda easy to tell whenever Murakumo is in the mood. He’ll be a bit more possessive, growling at other TouDan that even try to go near you. Will even try to mark you in public! Be prepared if he does try to do this though.

Murakumo isn’t all that into public sex? He’ll tease you and you can tease him in public and sure he will drag you into a more private corner of the citadel to further taunt and tease, a leg between yours, pressing against your sex and kissing you breathless, but actually doing the do is saved for private time. He won’t hesitate to service you under your desk though, don’t tEST HIM.

Yes he’s very much into overstim whenever he is giving you oral sex. Not very much into orgasm denial. BUt listen, topping Murakumo is an adventure. He’ll mark your back with claw marks, gasping and whimpering and whining and letting out the most beastial of growls when he cums.

After care is mostly just cuddles. He will immediately want to curl up next to you, exhausted and burying his face into your shoulder! Almost purring with how close you two are!

Kotegiri Gou

Lungs. Of. A. Singer. Motherfucker is pretty loud when he wants to be. This is why you need to gag him. Use your underpants, your fingers, whaTEVER THE HELL. He looks so pretty all flushed and forced to keep his mouth shut.

He’s also into praise, adoring it when you lavish it on to him. He’s weak in the knees whenever you call him a good boy. It causes his cock to twitch slightly, shivering at the words that drop from your lips like wine that he could drink up oh so happily.

Giri giri loves it when you suck on his fingers and lavish his hands, kiss them! Suck them! Show him that you love his hands! Always hold it as you two are doing the do! Oh man it’s good as shit.

Kotegiri does take care of the appearances of both of you. So don’t be surprised if he...well, dives deep into the internet to find you two some lingerie to wear. Yes he frequents a sex shop to find the right clothing for you two! BUt damn it all, he just wants you two to look your best! He has to pick out only the best of lingerie for you to wear! Damn right he’ll wear some too! NO one’ stopping him.

Maybe if you’re lucky, Kotegiri will give you a lap dance. maybe you can give him a lap dance. it’s all free game here man.

Kotegiri is a switch yes, but he prefers being on top, servicing you and telling you how much he loves you. Also he loves it when he can see you and sing your praises. But he also loves being on the bottom as well! He don’t mind!

Hell no, Kotegiri is not fucking you in your office. That’s a sacred place. You two are going to work and maybe cuddle and that’s that. Fucking is reserved for the bedroom and tHAT’S I T. Yes he may have had some fantasies about fucking you on your desk but nope. He ain’t doing dat shit. Not here man. Not yet at least. Push his buttons enough and maybe he’ll give in.

Oh Kotegiri loves marking you up! It’s always on your thighs though, he doesn’t mind marking up your neck but prefers it on the spots where only he and he alone can see. Maybe he’s being a bit possessive in this aspect but damn it, Kotegiri just wants you all to himself!

Kotegiri’s sex drive is also kinda low, he’s always so busy that he doesn’t really think about that kinda stuff. It all depends on how he’s feeling at the moment, so sometimes he’ll want to fuck you into the nearest surface and other times he’s just happy with cuddling. But dude when Kotegiri is in the mood it’s easy to tell. He’ll leave a box of lingerie out for you with a note that merely says he’ll see you tonight. Ehehehe.

KISS THE DAMN TAT ON HIS HIP. OH MAN KOTEGIRI IS PRETTY WEAK THERE. He loves it when you mark him up around his midriff and thigh area. Dude he rarely shows his tattoo to anyone but whenever he looks in the mirror and sees the marks you gave him around that area, he flushes as his fingers trace them. He’s so!! Proud!! Of those marks!!!!

Okay so mAAAAYBE Kotegiri will pole dance for you. If he figures it out of course. but he would. chANGE MY MIND

Raunchy poems/texts. I’m sorry, I’m not sorry. But these will be a thing. Since Kotegiri will also have a phone, he won’t hesitate to sext you whenever you two are not busy.

Kotegiri is rarely ever rough. It’s always soft and sweet during sex, moving to a rhythm that you two have set. Your first time was nothing short of sweet! He wanted to make sure that you two are happy in the end, sweet kisses and all!

no im not saying that giri giri 100% stole your laptop to further delve into kinks and research them. KOtegiri will also be a person who will set up boundaries before you two begin having sex. He wants to ensure that you two will not hurt each other or he doesn’t make you panic or anything!

Is also pretty attentive to you during after care. He’ll sing a lullaby for you to sleep, clean you up, change the sheets, and kiss you breathless. WIll joke that you two could always have another round if you two like but Kotegiri just wants to bask in your presence man.

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orangeseoks · 4 years

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Trouble Maker // j.jk

part one - part two here

[ disclaimer! ]

this is of pure fiction and is NOT to be taken seriously!

genre ;; fluff, smut, angst | hybrid au

pairing ;; jungkook x reader, hybrid!jk x reader, (kinda) namjoon x reader.

notes ;; jungkook is a horny mf, reader is a virgin *cOuGh*, mentions of abuse, a few fights happen here and there, namjoon is a complete dork, (y/n) and namjoon are besties uwu, eventual smut, jk randomly finds porn, masterbation, (y/n) fights with her family + daddy issues, highschool is hard, jk has a virgin kink, surprise heats, jk has wet dreams (ovo; ).

warning ;; there may be quite a bit of fob in here, idk

[ unedited ]

"Wake up will you," a voice blares from beside me. I quickly jolt awake and look around me, "y-yes?" Rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes I stretch in my spot and sigh, glancing at the workbook I'd dumped so carelessly onto the floor. "You're such an idiot, why do I even bother with you?" Namjoon answers with a laugh.

"Namjoon, seriously? I'd only passed out, geez." Rubbing my temple, I stand up, a slight giggle passing my lips as I start collecting the few items I'd scattered around me. I'm normally at home around this time, not often do I sleep during studies at Namjoon's.

I gently pack my things into my bag and make my way to the front door, slipping my shoes on. "Do you want a ride home?" He asks, tucking his car keys into the pocket of his pants.

Shaking my head I give Namjoon a soft smile, "I'll walk, it's okay."

"You sure? It's almost half past eleven," I merely nod and open the door. "If anything I'll take the bus home, see you!" Waving the older male goodbye, I run outside of his small house and down the street.

Namjoon, he's a lot older than me, like a lot. He's an adult and I'm still a student, many would think he's my tutor or something - but he's just a long time friend. Weird?

Humming to myself, I kick a stone on the pavement before I turn down an alleyway between two houses. This was my usual route home from Namjoon's place, it was a neat shortcut. It was always the best way to avoid a long walk, sometimes even people, I guess it’s just a fast escape. When I see the road come into view my smile widens, just across the street was a small corner store and I was dying to eat something.

Crossing the silent street, I make my way towards the store, accidentally inhaling the cigarette smoke from the group of males outside the laundromat. Coughing, I enter and begin to roam the few isles they had, grabbing a few snacks here and there. The smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the air but it wasn't as strong as it was outside.

"Is this all?" The cashier asks me, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Yep," is all I respond with, taking out my wallet to pay for everything. "Which school do you go to?" The woman suddenly asks me whilst she packs everything into a re-usable bag, "oh um.. that school just down the street, I forgot the name." I let out a faint chuckle, my cheeks growing a faint pink.

"Ah, my daughter goes there too." With a warm smile the woman hands me everything, "be careful walking home it's cold out."

"Thank you," bowing slightly I exit the store, that disgusting smell hitting me like a truck. Scoffing, I cover my nose and cross the street in a hurry.

A little before I got home, I'd decided to stop at the bus stop just a house away from mine. And now here I am, sitting there as I eat the sandwich I'd purchased. Watching the few cars that pass by me, "are you jumping busses too?" Flinching, I turn around to face the voice - swallowing my mouthful in a hurry. "N-No, I'm just sitting here to eat." Smiling shyly I fold the parchment paper that once was wrapped around my sandwich, lowering my gaze to the concrete below my feet.

"At midnight? That's new," the voice adds. Nodding I shift awkwardly in my spot, "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm only waiting for the bus."

"S-Sorry, I'm not used to this sort of thing."

"Me, social interaction or bus jumping?" The voice asks playfully, a small laugh passing through their words. "All of them I guess," embarrassed with myself I mentally facepalm - slouching in my spot. "Don't be, I'm only dressed differently." Confused as to why they've pointed that out, I glance up at them, noticing how they really are dressed differently. They're wearing a hat, baggy clothes and a .. collar? Or maybe it's a choker?

I clear my throat and nod, "not really. I mean, other people dress like that."

"Yeah well I'm not like other people," the voice answers, headlights hitting the both of us. My eyes widen when I see a glimpse of the persons face, they're beautiful. "Here's my bus," they finish - standing and entering the large vehicle. Leaving me and my lonesome once more, shaking my head I stand also, grabbing both my bags and walking the remainder of my way home.

Sighing, I look up at my steep driveway, never getting over how tiring it is to walk up it. "I'm home," I mutter sarcastically. A fake smile painting my features as I walk up it. When I reach the top of my driveway, I begin shaking open my gate, not failing to notice the obvious movement in the bushes behind my fishpond.

Furrowing my eyebrows together, I walk toward the bushes closing the front gate behind me and then pushing open an entrance for me, so I’m able to pass through the crowded greenery. "..Hello?" I ask the darkness of night, sighing at my actions I look around the area and see nothing. That is until I spot two perky ears twitching. "Oh-" Kneeling down, I move the rock the animal is hiding behind, spotting the small thing and frowning at its appearance.

"Poor thing, let's get you inside." I gently pick up the bunny and cradle it in my arms despite the constant thrashing it makes. I hum at this, rubbing gently behind its ears whilst I take out my keys, I unlock the unit house I'm living in and switch on the lights, placing the animal onto my kitchen table to examine it.

The poor bunny was coated in thick mud, a deep slash in one of their back legs, along with a few other cuts on them. “Lets clean you up, yeah?” With a gentle smile, I pick the bunny up and walk over to the kitchen - filling the sink with warm water.

“You’re safe now little bunny,” I affirm, turning the tap off and placing the tiny animal into the shallow pool of water. A small chuckle leaves my lips, watching as it squirms slightly when coming in contact with the warm liquid. Smiling, I get myself a cup and collect a bit of water to pour over the top of the bunny. Combing my fingers through its slightly over grown locks, I untangle a few of the knots in its fur before beginning to scrub the mud away.

I let out a faint laugh when the little bunny presses itself into the palm of my hand, “do you like me washing your fur?” As if it understands me, their ear twitches and they hop into my free palm. Smiling, I wet its ears, softly massaging the fur with my fingers, being sure not to apply too much pressure knowing how sensitive rabbit ears can be.

“I’m almost finished little bunny,” giggling, I wash away any extra muck before transferring the small animal to a clean tea towel, wrapping it neatly around the bunny’s small frame and returning to the kitchen table to dry it. Humming, I eventually finish drying the bunny and run my hands along its damp fur, “sit tight I’ll be right back.”

And I was, I’d left and come back in the span of only three minutes. A first aid kit in hand, sitting in front of the bunny I notice how it awakes from what I’m assuming was their sleep. “I’m going to treat your leg alright, it may hurt so I’m sorry in advanced.” With a concentrated sigh, I look at the injured leg, feeling somewhat relieved to see it looking better now that its been cleaned of whatever gunk was in it.

I apply a bit of an ointment onto the little bunny’s leg before wrapping it in a bandage, “jang! All done!” Clapping my hands together, I let a grin fall onto my lips whilst I pick the bunny up, pulling it into my chest for hug. “You’re such a good little bunny! I’m so proud of you!”

With a giggle I glance at the clock next to the tv, instantly frowning when I notice how late it is. I should be sleeping, but instead I’m cuddling with a stray rabbit. Sighing, I comb my bangs back and make my way to my bedroom, turning the lounge light off behind me.

“You can sleep with me tonight hun,” crawling into bed I place the small bunny into the arms of one of my teddy bears, smiling when it curls into the plush toy. Yawning I bid the bunny goodnight and fall asleep myself.

As sunlight passed through the bedroom curtains, I feel myself begin to stir in my sleep, groaning I turn towards my wall. A giggle leaving my lips as a tiny tongue flicks along my neck, licking at my skin, with a shaky laugh I open my eyes - a familiar little bunny coming into view. Smiling, I pick the rabbit up, rolling onto my back and holding it in the air.

“I think I might keep you, call you mine.”

Chuckling, I sit up and place the bunny into my lap, petting the small creature. “I’m (Y/n), and you’re..” Pausing for a moment I look around my room for a name idea, then it hits me. “You’re Jungkook!”

I watch as Jungkook jumps up, pawing at my shirt, “someones excited!” I exclaim happily, picking Jungkook up and checking the bunny for a split second. “You’re a boy Jungkook!” I yell, clearly as excited as him.

ding!

Cutting myself and Jungkook from our moment, I listen to my phone go off beside me, sighing I unlock it and read my messages with a frown. A deep groan falls from my lips, tossing my phone onto the floor carelessly - as if it’ll relieve my irritation.

“Namjoon’s coming over, Jungkook, he’s a friend of mine. He’s going to help me finish my leftover work,” smiling I cradle the tiny male bunny in my arms. Running my hand gently along his back, watching his small tail twitch. Giggling I grab his tail between two fingers and massage the area around it.

“Come on, I need to change, help me pick out my outfit.”

Jumping out of bed, I make it quickly, rearranging my soft toys and such. I then take out a few things from the set of drawers I have sitting in the corner of the room.

“Which one? Twitch either your left or right ear to tell me,” I utter holding up both the chosen pieces of clothes.

The bunny’s head only tilts to the side, his right ear twitching, grinning I nod and make a hurry to take off the shirt I was sleeping in, pulling on the large sweater and shorts.

“Ta-da!” I do a little twirl, laughing when Jungkook jumps in his spot, his large doe eyes glistening in the natural light. Scoffing, I shake my head, a wide smile still plastered on my face when I open my curtains and windows.

Turning to Jungkook, I watch as he jumps down from my bed, landing on his side with a small squeak. I let out a snicker watching in awe at the clumsy bunny. His little legs working hard as he runs over to me, snuggling himself into my ankle. “Come on bub,” I murmur picking Jungkook up and walking into the kitchen to boil the jug as-well-as place a few pieces of bread into the toaster.

“What should you have for breakfast?” Looking down at Jungkook, I smile, shuffling over to the fridge - tearing a leaf of lettuce away from its body and grabbing an apple to go with the green he’s going to eat, “sorry if you don’t like it. I’ll try and buy you bunny food on Thursday, hm?” Chuckling, I jump a little with every step I take; rocking Jungkook like an infant in my arms.

“I’ll cut your lettuce and apple so its easier for you to eat,” pressing a chast kiss to Jungkook’s fur, I place him on the bench beside me whilst I cut the lettuce into strips. The faint sound of rain hitting the roof filling my ears, I sigh at this and place the shredded lettuce onto a small plate. Moving onto his apple, I begin to cut that too, eventually finishing that and placing the tiny chunks onto the plate also - moving onto my breakfast once I’ve placed his food onto the table.

Placing a couple slices of bread into the toaster, I take out the butter along with the jam as I wait for my toast to pop up.

I jump when my toast is ready, laughing at myself for being oblivious to it. Humming a song to myself, I butter my toast - blah blah. And then walk over to the table, giggling when I see Jungkook face first in his food; his cheeks stuffed with his breakfast.

“Cute,” I mutter, taking a bite of my toast and listening to the pelting rain hit the roof of my home. “I hope Namjoon doesn’t catch a cold, he’s probably drenched.”

Speaking of the devil.

My eyebrows raise as my front door slides open, Namjoon rushing inside and tossing his keys onto the shoe shelf beside him, he sighs and removes his wet coat - draping it over the back of a kitchen chair. “Unlock your door next time,” he complains, sitting down and combing back his dripping bangs.

“Sorry,” I say, “I didn’t expect you over so early. Its only ten,” Namjoon nods in response. His eyes shifting from me to Jungkook - too immersed in his feasting to notice the male in the room. “You bought a rabbit..?” He asks, examining the animal with his eyes, “no.” Is all I respond with, finishing off the last of my toast.

“I found his last night, his leg was injured so I took him in.”

Namjoon sighs, “what is it has some type of disease and you catch it?”

“I won’t, he’s healthy, a little beaten is all.” I smile sadly, moving my hand to pet Jungkook as he eats. “Do you plan on telling your dad?” He asks, plucking an untouched chunk of apple from Jungkook’s plate and tossing into his mouth.

I scoff, “no. Like he’s going to find out, he’ll only make me pay for everything myself, not to mention my sisters.” I find myself shivering at my own words, “if my sisters find out I have a rabbit in my house, they’ll smother the poor thing.”

Laughing, Namjoon nods, “I get it.”

I don’t say a word, only hum and allow Jungkook to hop into my open hand, “how much of the work did I need to finish?”

“Right!” Namjoon starts, placing the small bag he has with his atop of the table, “if I remember correctly you only have to finish your slide for history.” I instantly grin, history is one of my favourite subjects. I so adore history, I’ve always been a fan of the dark and interesting histories and wonders of the world.

According to my friends and mutuals at school I’m a, quote on quote; history whore.

“Salem Witch Trials, right?” Namjoon asks, cutting me from my thoughts, “yeah, that’s it.” He nods, taking out his notebook as well as a few sheets of paper littered with words and images. “I’ve got some articles printed for you to use as reference.”

Thanking him, I run off to grab my laptop, returning moments later and sitting in my original spot. “I think you only have two slides left to make,” he murmurs, writing a few things into his notebook. I hum, opening my slides and quickly looking through my current work.

One slide left, I think to myself, glancing at the papers given to me. This is going to be interesting.

Groaning, I flop lifelessly onto my sofa, ignoring the grumbling coming from Namjoon. “(Y/n)-”

“Don’t you dare make me work any further, I’ve finished everything.” I retort, not letting Namjoon finish his sentence, he knows how stubborn I can be and decides to leave things at that. “Movie?” He asks, switching the tv on, “no - game.”

Chuckling, Namjoon stands to grab the two controllers sitting in a drawer before handing me one and starting up a multiplayer game so the two of us can play. “Are you ready to lose?” I chime cockily, knowing how he sucks at this specific video game. “Ha ha, very funny,” he retorts.

I smile at his sarcasm, focusing my attention on the game about to take place, “loser.” I say, mashing furiously at my controller, knocking down Namjoon’s character with a simple punch. The male beside me huffs, puffing his cheeks out, “I’m no loser.”

And he wasn’t lying when he said that, I’d only blinked and my character had been knocked down with a booming k.o! I was shocked; he’d literally just beaten me, me!

“Kim Namjoon!” I whine, throwing the small device in my hands onto the armchair across from the two of us, instantly jumping onto the broad male - tackling him into the cushioning.

He lets out a low squeak, squirming beneath me with a roaring laugh. He knows how competitive I can get, so why would he make me lose?

“(Y/n)!” He laughs, his hands unconsciously finding my waist as I resume tickling him. “St-Stop!” Furrowing my eyebrows, I pinch his waist before stopping and glaring at him, “thank you.” He pants, rolling over slightly and glancing at a certain spot on the floor.

“Oh hey little guy,” Namjoon spurs, smiling fondly at Jungkook. I notice this and turn my head to face my curious bunny, “come on!” I cheer, kneeling beside the couch and watching as he scrambles over to me. Burying his face into my hands the second he comes up to me.

I can’t help but grin at how cute he is, bringing the small animal towards my chest and cradling him. “He’s so cute Namjoon.”

“Are you going to keep him?” He asks, sitting up after tidying his tussled hair. “Mhm, I decided to keep him once I woke up. There’s no way he’s going back out there, poor thing must’ve been beaten before running off.”

“There’s actually been cases popping up recently of animal abusers, the authorities are trying to find out who exactly is doing this and whether its a group or just individuals, they’re also speculating that its breeder or maybe a owner of sorts.”

He pauses, wetting his lips before continuing;

“Oh- there’s also cases of people seeing .. well other people, but with animal ears and tails. No one has been able to prove if these sightings are true or not, but I guess that’s off topic.”

Shrugging, I continue to gaze at the now sleeping bunny in my arms, a wide smile gracing my lips. “Should we go shopping?” I ask the bunny snuggled into me, knowing it obviously won’t answer me. “Now?” Namjoon questions, walking around me and into my room.

“Yeah,” is all I say as I climb to my feet and place Jungkook onto the couch to retrieve my shoes from my room - a coat hitting me directly in the face upon my entering. “Put that on, it’ll be cold outside.”

“I know,” I say. “I know.”

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thehouseoflamentation · 5 years

Note

could we get some headcanons for the boys with tails? where their tails act like an animals and react to their emotions but also subconsciously rap around their s/o! and that s/o touching them can make them melt please 🥺 btw your blog is fantastic!! thank you so much for all your work!! 💕💕💕

Thank you!! And thanks for this ask! I’ve been thinking about what the boys would be like with tails for awhile now. Since you asked for tails I’ll only be focusing on that not their wings also I will try to do this based on what animals the guys reference ^^

(In the very first chapter/lesson there are some images in the background that show what animal pertains to which brother based on their order)

Lucifer - Peacock

His tail is like a peacock’s but perhaps a bit darker in color. It's rather long and can be quite a nuisance when he’s moving around so he often tries to keep it curled around either of his legs.

When he’s angry he’ll either raise his tail or use it to give a quick smack at whoever pissed him off in the first place *coughMammoncough*. When he’s happy his tail will wag just the slightest bit and when he feels especially confident or wants to show off he’ll spread his tail feathers.

Lucifer isn’t keen on others touching his tail since its a symbol of his pride but when he allows you to touch it he melts internally at the sensation of your fingers gently gliding across each feather. The more you do it the more relaxed he gets and the more he’ll spread his tail out. He doesn’t usually do this but when Lucifer wraps his tail around your leg it's a discrete signal that he wants some special alone time with you (I’m sure you know where this is going).

Mammon - Crow/Raven

His tail is mainly made up of large black feathers. They aren’t as long as Lucifer’s but they’re much more expressive when it comes to showing emotion. Since the feathers jut out and aren’t as long or flexible he has to be careful whenever his tail is out or he’ll end up knocking things over if he moves or turns around too fast.

When he’s mad his tail feathers either point up or spread out. When he’s scared or feels threatened they point down. When he’s feeling pumped up or if he’s found a Grimm lying on the ground his tail will twitch or flutter with excitement.

His tail isn’t quite long enough to wrap around your leg but he will try to flex it around your waist to pull you in closer to him when he wants your attention. He gets super embarrassed when you touch his tail and it’ll puff up on reflex. Unfortunately having his tail all puffed up just makes you want to touch it more making Mammon blush and feel like he’s slowly melting into a puddle.

Leviathan - Snake

Leviathan’s tail is long, black, and snakelike; covered with smooth scales from the base to the tip. Since it’s so long he keeps it wrapped around his waist or one of his legs to avoid tripping or having others step on it.

Levi’s tail is long but its too slim to be prehensile and can’t lift up his body weight. It is rather useful for swimming though! His tail sometimes has a mind of its own and will appear to move around randomly if he isn’t actively controlling it. When he’s mad or defensive his tail will curl around him ready to smack anything that comes too close. If he’s sad his tail will seem to drag behind him as he walks. When he’s really happy his tail will instinctively wiggle from side to side making a little wave or zigzag motion.

His tail is very sensitive but the most sensitive areas are at the base and the tip. When you stroke his tail the sensation travels up his spine and makes him shiver and melt at the same time. When you do this his tail usually coils around your hand and arm, not enough to hurt you but just enough to give you a little squeeze as if to say “please keep going!” When his tail wraps around your leg it's usually a reflex or accident but it makes Levi hide his face in his hoodie. Sometimes his tail is just more honest of his emotions than he is.

Satan - ??? (His symbol is a unicorn but his demon form shows a spiky tail so I’ll go with the spiky tail)

Satan’s tail is spiny and make up of rough scales that are black at the base and midsection and green at the tip. His tail is snakelike but isn’t as smooth or long as Levi’s. It makes for the perfect defense mechanism on short notice, able to deeply lacerate anything that he strikes at.

When he’s angry, Satan curls his tail around his leg tighter and tighter, resisting the urge to lose control of his temper. When he’s sad his tail will uncurl from his leg and just hang by itself behind him. When he’s happy his tail will sway side to side a bit, not enough to slash someone's ankles but enough to show that he’s in a good mood.

When you touch his tail he always warns you to be careful otherwise your fingers might get cut on the sharp ends. Even though his tail appears very tough it is actually sensitive to touch so sometimes he can’t help but blush when you play with it. He avoids wrapping his tail around your leg since you might get hurt but he sometimes lets the tip of his tail tap you near your shoes if he wants to get your attention.

Asmodeus - Scorpion

You never expected the Avatar of Lust who prides himself on beauty would have such an intimidating tail. Asmodeus’s tail is dark red and shaped somewhat like a scorpion’s. Fortunately the stinger doesn’t necessarily contain venom but rather a very power aphrodisiac along with a bit of numbing agent. The numbing helps so that a person won’t feel pain from the sting while the aphrodisiac is powerful enough to make a person want to fulfill their deepest, naughtiest desires.

Asmodeus usually keeps his tail wrapped around his wait to make sure he doesn’t accidentally stab others with it. When he’s angry or if he’s being threatened his tail will extend upwards ready to strike if something goes wrong. The weight of the tail itself can knock another demon down if a successful strike makes contact. When he’s sad he’ll wrap his tail around one of his legs. If he’s happy his tail will stay curled behind his back.

Asmodeus reflexively twitches his tail whenever you touch or stroke it. The surface of his tail is smooth so it feels rather nice for him. He makes sure to bend his tail slightly when you want to touch it so that the stinger is pointed away from you. Asmo being Asmo can’t help but feel a bit turned on when you do this since his back along with his tail are very sensitive. He likes to use his tail to wrap around your waist and pull you close but since it has a stinger at the end he hesitates to curl it around your legs.

Beelzebub - Uhh...a fly??? but...they don’t….they don’t have tails???

Beel’s “tail” looks like the end segment of a dragonfly. Its smooth, has a reddish orange color, and has a shiny, iridescent appearance. Beel doesn’t usually show off his tail much since it can be rather difficult to handle. It is not very flexible and extends to about three to four feet from his lower back making it difficult to go around the dorms without knocking over objects.

When he is mad his tail will point slightly upward similar to Asmo. When he is sad it points down and when he is happy it points straight out. Unfortunately since his tail is stiff he can’t really curl his tail around you but that just means he needs to wrap one of his arms around you instead.

When you touch his tail you’re initially surprised by how smooth it feels. If anything it somewhat reminds you of armor due to how hard and shiny it is. Beel thinks its cute whenever you ask to play with his tail and he gladly lets you even though he can’t help but giggle due to how ticklish his tail is.

Belphegor - Cow

Belphegor’s tail is similar to a cow’s tail but much bigger and longer. His tail also has a soft bushy part at the very tip. If there are no pillows in sight and he is in dire need of a nap he’ll curl up with his tail and use the fluffy end to rest his head on.

When he’s mad Belphegor rapidly beats his tail back and forth as if he’s warming himself up for a fight. When he’s sad his tail will droop and curl behind him and when he’s happy his tail will point up and wag gently. Unlike his brothers Belphie won’t wrap his tail around himself but he will lift it up to avoid dragging it on the floor.

When you first played with his tail he let out a yelp not out of pain just out of sensitivity from the sudden contact. The warmth from your fingers made him feel like he was going to melt starting from his tail and continuing to the rest of his body. When you two nap he would automatically wrap his tail around your legs or waist, drawing you in closer to cuddle.

#obey me!#shall we date #shall we date?#obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #ask #obey me! headcanon #headcanon

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shadowofthelamp · 4 years

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@64bit-gamer said:

Dibbrane: Zim shows Dib his lab and ship for the first time

Zim knew that they’d mostly gotten over the hump. Dib had punched Tak halfway to Vort to prove that he still cared about Zim, and any remaining secrets were dissolving like flimsy cloth under laser fire.

Still. Still, even after everything, even as he cradled his egg-filled middle, his chest was thump-thump-thumping faster than it should have as they passed the gnomes to the front entrance of the base.

“So this was where you and Twix...?”

“Mhm. Not always, we fought all over the city, but often it was around here.” Zim rapped his knuckles against the doorframe as Dib had to stoop slightly to enter behind him. “The house was a custom model, but the basic tech to make it was issued to every invader.” The word still had a sting in his mouth, like biting thorns.

“How did it work? You didn’t build it all, I can’t imagine- this place isn’t that big, but-”

“I’ll have to show you sometime if I can dig up the blueprints, but you draw the outside and the inside is filled as accurately as possible from data pulled in from the airwaves allow.”

“Really? Neat!” Dib poked the couch. “It all feels real.”

‘It is real.” Zim made his way over to the trash can, drumming his fingers on his abdomen before deciding against it. He didn’t want to get stuck on Dib’s first visit. Instead, he looked up. “Computer, open the couch entrance.”

“Why’s he here?”

“Because I want him to be. Couch entrance.”

“Fiiiine.”

“Oooh, you’ve got an AI in here too?”

“Artificial, yes. Intelligence might be... questionable.”

“I heard that, you know.”

Zim waved his hand as he stepped onto the elevator, Dib practically suctioning himself to his side. “Just take us down to the lab.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” The floor dropped, and Dib wobbled for a moment before stabilizing himself.

“Oh, so this is how you get down to the basement.” Dib watched the floors go by. “I didn’t see anything that could be stairs, since the upper level’s pretty small.”

“Right.” Zim’s fingers tightened on his coat- he’d left it on out of habit, even though it was starting to become quite snug.

“Hey.” When Zim turned, Dib had knelt down on one knee. “I- I know this is a lot to deal with. But we agreed no more lies, alright? As long as you’re honest with me, you don’t have to be scared of wh-aaaaaaat is that?” Dib’s eyes widened as the elevator opened out into the cavernous main room of the subterranean lab.

“That, Dib-mate, is my lab.” A smile broke over Zim’s cheeks as he turned on his heel to march down towards the computer. He could hear the little squeak of Dib’s boots as he scurried to follow him, easily catching up as his strides were twice the size of Zim’s.

“This stuff looks ages ahead of what we have back at- geez, no wonder you had so many ideas, it must have been like working in the stone age!” Dib caressed one of the consoles. Zim chuckled.

“Well, it was worth it to work with you. Besides, Earth and Irk divulged eons ago considering they were so far apart and Earth doesn’t have interplanetary influence- even if it was a bit old, it was still new to me.”

Dib started randomly pressing buttons just to see what they did, and Zim had known him long enough to tell that he was awed even behind his goggles and collar. “Can we just stay down here for a month? I want to stay down here for a month.”

“We can come back whenever you want.” Zim leaned against Dib’s hip, and Dib took it as a cue to scoop Zim up to set on his shoulder, the way they had done so often at work. “This is all yours too now.”

Dib let out a little squeal, bouncing on his heels and looking more like the excitable child Zim had met ages ago than the man in his thirties he was now. “Dad’s never seen anything like any of this- can you imagine? Whenever we figure out how to spin it, it’ll be ‘Dib Membrane: The one who discovered alien tech.’ I’ll finally have something that’s mine- that’s ours.”

Zim swallowed, glancing away, but Dib nudged him with the side of his head. “I... I won’t do it if we can’t figure out how to keep you safe. Even if we just introduce this stuff to the lab slowly as our own inventions, it’ll still be something, but your safety and the safety of the kids comes first. I can’t imagine how scary it’s been, waiting for the other shoe to drop for twenty years.”

Zim looked down at Dib, concern shining through what Zim could see of his goggles, and his antennae twitched before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I’m just glad it’s over now. And I can show you my ship.”

“You have a spaceship?”

#aip dibbrane au #64bit trash #64bit gamer #shadow writes stuff #aip #iz #iz blogging #mpreg cw

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bananaink · 5 years

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KeGO December Day 5 - Look how cute they are, urgh!

Aizawa was troubled. He couldn’t exactly say what troubled him, but he was troubled. And he could feel it souring his mood.

Kirishima – frozen as if Aizawa wouldn’t be able to see him then – stared at the ground while Midoriya excitedly flapped their intertwined hands in front of his guardians' face.

“Look! I’m holding his hand, quirk active, but he’s still soft! Look!”

Midoriya pinched Kirishimas arm to show what he meant.

“And I can shift his hardening around! Look!”

Then he held Kirishimas arm up, showing him his sharp elbow and how the hardening slowly wandered around, down his arm and up to Kirishimas intimidated face. He looked up and accidently met Aizawas eyes, boring into his, and quickly let his gaze nervously wander up the ceiling. Which gave Midoriya the leeway to point at Kirishimas hardened left cheek and then the squishy right one. He poked into the soft skin mercilessly.

“This is so fascinating – you're not doing anything, right Kirishima?”

“No, I don’t.”, the boy answered dutifully and Midoriya made that excited jazz-hand Aizawa was always a little surprised to be blessed with.

“No, he doesn’t! I’m doing it!”

“Midoriya, stop poking Kirishima, he’s not a stress toy.”, Aizawa said, despite Kirishima seeming fine with the prodding, submitting to Midoriyas sudden inability to keep his hands to himself. Fiddling with a hardened strand of hair, Midoriya leaned even closer to Kirishima.

“I never had the chance to feel my quirk work like this! It’s like pushing it- no, coaxing it to- to follow my lead! It’s reacting to me and my quirk it- it's so easy and it feels warm and safe, as if it’s protecting me, too!”

Kirishimas cheeks slowly turned red at the praise, while Midoriya suddenly jerked and viciously pinched his own arm.

“But it’s not actually transferring, it’s just a feeling, so am I connected to you then? Through your quirk? Is that it? But why would I be able to manipulate it, if I’m just connecting because to manipulate, I’d have to actually tap into...”

Aizawa blinked a little bit and watched Midoriyas mouth form words and actually sounding them loud out. Red-faced and uncomfortably stiff in front of his homeroom-teacher, Kirishima kept on avoiding eye-contact with him, just as Midoriya pulled Kirishimas arm up to examine his elbow. In the back of the teachers-lounge, Snipe lifted his head over the backrest of the couch to see what the big commotion was about and out of the corner of his eyes Aizawa saw Hizashi giggling behind his hands. Aizawa sighed and let his arms drop into his lap.

“Well, can you stop using it?”

Midoriya flinched and pulled Kirishima close as if Aizawa was about to take him away, surprised and indignant at the same time. Protectiveness flooded Midoriyas eyes, hot and gleaming, before he frowned and turned his face into a contemplating grimace. Immediately Kirishimas quirk spluttered and randomly hardened his body, showing Midoriyas internal struggle. The redhead shifted uncomfortably, sometimes jerking in a way that suggested he had hardened at an unexpected place but otherwise stayed still as Midoriya fixated him with a glare. Concentrating.

“Wait, I think-”

Aizawa carefully observed the interaction, noting how Kirishimas quirk was jumping all over the place but just like a hit-a-mole-game, every time Midoriya managed to stop the quirk at one place, a sharp edge appeared somewhere else. Frustration began to creep up his mouth and at the first ragged inhale from Kirishima... Aizawa leaned forward.

“Easy there, he’s getting exhausted.”, he said and watched as Kirishima pulled himself together under Midoriyas sudden crestfallen stare. He wanted to let go of the redhead but Kirishima squeezed his hand with slightly hardened fingers. Blushing a little bit more.

“I’m fine! I can keep going!”, he reassured Midoriya and Aizawa at the same time with the most trustful and determined look - that was fairly unnecessary in this current situation. But he sounded raspy, breathless. Sweat had started to roll down his face again and Aizawa knew he had been training with Bakugou only half an hour prior to this demonstration because unlike Kirishima, Bakugou had actually signed out of the training-grounds.

“Don’t overwork yourself. Especially in an unauthorized training session, Kirishima. Do I need to give more assignments since you are obviously having enough time? Or maybe another training session?”

Kirishima instantly went white and rigid – the left side of his hair hardened as Midoriya stepped forward, free hand on his hip and his chin jutting out in a challenge.

“Don’t be mean, we accidently did this.”

“So you accidently trained without my permission? How does that work?”

Midoriya rolled his eyes and gestured with one hand in the air. Absentmindedly Aizawa noted how expressive Midoriya was today. Body moving without his usual jittery nerves, hand – for all its flapping – controlled and more focused than ever. His scarred cheek didn’t twitch in thought but rather followed his thoughts and painted them right onto his face. He was obviously in thought as he tried to convince his guardian that they hadn't been messing with each-others quirks on purpose. A sentence his ward had started to use more frequently.

“He just- I helped him with a quirk thing – over a week ago, and it was in class so no rule-breaking here, you can stop glaring – and he wanted to tell me how it went. And we just talked and suddenly I realized we were holding hands and I was able to just reach out and feel this warmth spreading through my arms. Or, not really warmth because that would be weird, right? Maybe I’m connecting nerve-cells with another body through my skin and the sensation translates over to me? Kirishima, are you hot?”

The redhead immediately blushed at Midoriya who suddenly had turned around again and was just about an inch away from his face.

“Uh, maybe?”

“So, your quirk feels hot when you use it? How does it feel when you turn it off, do you get cold? How do you even tell if it’s hot or cold when your skin hardens, you said nothing can hurt you but is it more like a shell or like a blanket? Can you feel temperatures? Can you feel Bakugous blasts? I now you can hold them off but-”

Everyone in the room turned their heads at the sudden flood of words drowning the atmosphere without an end in sight and Aizawa felt a hand on his shoulder. Hizashi leaned forward, close to his ear.

“Holy shit, what’s going on?”

Aizawa stared at Midoriya currently bombarding the poor overwhelmed Kirishima with a thousand questions a minute.

“To be honest, I have no idea.”

Yamada slapped Aizawas shoulder a few times, excitement pouring out of him and he could feel his best friend grinning right beside his face.

“He is so excited; I’ve never seen him talk that much! And poor Kirishima is trying so hard, Urgh! They are so adorable! My heart! Can I buy him a new sweater? I promise it’ll be reasonably priced and only three-colored.”

Aizawa was about to tell his friend no, when Midoriya started tugging at Kirishimas hand. The redhaired boy wasn’t answering fast enough and his ward had probably decided to check some things himself so he poked him again in the face and arms and shoulders and chest-

“Okay, that’s enough.”, Aizawa said sternly, just as Midoriya was about to tug Kirishimas shirt out of the way right in the middle of the teachers' lounge. Kirishima – still beet-red – looked up gratefully and – to Aizawas surprise – a little disappointed when Midoriya flinched backwards and hit his lower back at Aizawas desk. They were still holding hands, which Aizawa now identified as the source of his troubled mind and Midoriyas word-vomit abruptly cut off.

Silence fell upon them and Kirishimas whole arm hardened up to his shoulder and over half of his face. Midoriya quickly released him and then pulled his sleeves over his arms and hands.

“Uh, sorry, uhm, I didn’t realize-”

Regret and a pang of guilt stabbed Aizawa in the chest as he saw how Midoriya closed off again, crossing his arms over his chest, shoving his hand under his arms and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. But one look at the panting Kirishima, shutting off his quirk and smiling a little tiredly reminded the adult that he had to draw some lines here. For both their sakes. Kirishima waved Midoriyas apology off.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m just happy to help, dude.”

At Midoriyas miserable jumping eyes, obviously taking in Kirishimas slightly slumped shoulders and sweat running down his skin, Kirishima tried for a more convincing smile, holding his fist up.

“Maybe we can try this again later? With permission, of course.” He quickly looked at Aizawa for confirmation and Aizawa had two pairs of eyes on him in an instant. Kirishima nervous and exhausted, Midoriya waiting for his final words. All of his previous excitement stifled and simmering under his usual mask of uncertain indifference.

Hizashi nudged him in the shoulder and he sighed.

“I can schedule some time for you two tomorrow in the gym. Kirishima, clean yourself up and get home. Midoriya, you can help him but no more quirk-testing, am I clear?”

His ward nodded and when Kirishima invitingly shook his fist in front of him, Midoriya rapped his knuckles gently and short against his.

Immediately Kirishimas trademark grin reappeared and lifted the heavy atmosphere Midoriyas sudden silence had left behind from their shoulders.

“Awesome, dude! Maybe you can tell me more about how my quirk feels! You said it’s like a heat?”

Looking at Aizawa with one quick glance, Midoriya pushed himself away from the desk and led the way out of the room.

“Uhm, no, it- it's more like a- uhm- a hug, I think...”, he mumbled and Aizawa heard his nervous embarrassed stutter resurfacing. Kirishima followed, oblivious or ignoring Midoriyas closed off body language, hovering around him and keeping his distance as they passed Yagi on the way.

“Awesome! Like a manly bro-hug or more like a manly manly-hug?”

“What- What’s the difference?”

“Well, a bro-hug, is like-”

And then the door fell shut behind them, mercifully saving Aizawa from the explanation Kirishima was about to give his foster child. He rubbed his eyes. He would probably still have to hear about it tonight. Hizashi cackled beside him, slapping his shoulder.

“Man, that was so adorable! How fast can this boy even talk! Did you catch what he said? So many questions, wow!”

“That was a first for me, too...”, Aizawa grumbled and Hizashi let out a loud whoop.

“And Kirishimas face! Did you see it? Hoo, boy, this is going to be great!”

Aizawa miserably groaned just as Yagi sat down at his desk, looking confused.

“Did I miss something? Why is everyone looking so surprised?”

Turning in his chair, Aizawa let his head fall on the table and tried to forget how starstruck and red-faced and helplessly smitten Kirishima had looked. How he had held his foster child's hand and easily went with everything he had asked for. And how ecstatic Midoriya had filled the air with babbling and mumbling, voice full of life and melodic wonder. Hizashi kept on slapping his shoulder and then his back in excitement, hollering with laughter.

“Have fun teaching that, my friend!”

“What? What happened?”, asked Yagi in alarm and Aizawa tried to kick Hizashi from his slumped form. But his friend just walked away snickering, unharmed.

“I need to call Nemuri right now!”

Aizawa glared with his quirk after him until he ducked out of his field of vision.

Traitor.

________

This was so much fun to write!! :D Babbling Midoriya is a happy Midoriya :D

Crossposted here on AO3 and check out @banashee , her Day 5 was as adorable as I hoped it would be!

And have a great day everyone!

#bnha au #imprint au #midoriya izuku #Kirishima Eijirou #POOR KIRISHIMA #he is trying his best!#tired dadzawa #cool uncle hizashi #and everyone is just surprised by midoriya #he is still obsessed with quirks and how they work #but hes usually too shy or scared to actually ask #so he forgot himself a little #green bean son #he's the best #urgh i just love carefree midoriya #feels just nice to write it #aizawa shouta #kego december

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asystemofvibrantcolors · 4 years

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An introduction of ourselves

So we saw some other blogs do an introduction, which showed us ‘Hey, it’s actually simple. Here’s a list of things you can say.’ So, let’s go ahead, while we still are pretty new around here.

Here I’m Iris. I’m the “boss” of this system of something something about 14. Not sure whether to count people who haven’t been around since a few weeks.

We’re physically 22 years old, living alone since almost two years now. It really wasn’t an easy step to take, but it seriously solved a lot of issues, in the end, to just have time on our own. At the moment, all we could figure is ‘Yes, that is actually plurality’. We actually got a MPD diagnosis, but we hate that term in comparison to DID. It just feels wrong. The DSM didn’t get updated for nothing... Now, that same psychiatrist told us the same day we weren’t autistic (after refusing to handle our test back), as well as that colorblind girls don’t exist. Too bad for him we’re intersex... We’ll look for someone else after Covid (or in june, would it happen to not end by then).

Yes, we had some pretty bad childhood one could call ‘trauma’. No, we don’t remember of most of it, only few events. It only comes back with one or another nightmare. Yes, we might maybe talk about it randomly, or if asked. Sometimes we talk about our nightmares, putting it on text helps processing it.

If you wonder when we’re awake, we use Amsterdam’s time, CET. It’s GMT+1 or +2 depending of winter or summer time.

For what we spend our life on, we’re actually in a Master, in Occupational Psychology, Psychology of Organizations, and of Diversities. We’re hoping to double it with a general-ish Clinical Psychology Master, but money’s probably gonna limit us. Gotta take the option that’s more likely to find a job, you know? and oh boy, is it compromised with this story of ‘covid diplomas’... We have a passion for human development, observing and describing the events that happened to one to get them there. Statistics. Demographics, what they do differently. What’s similar. You know, ‘Gender Studies’ actually are a tiny part of our Master here (3% of it). That sort of stuff, explaining the dynamics between different populations, or how some populations evolved to be who they are. The idea didn’t come from wanting to explain ourselves. ... ...well maybe...

We don’t really know what we’re gonna post on here. It’ll depend mostly of who we find, and who we can admire. We’re looking for ‘people like us’ : autistic people, plural people, trans and non-binary people, etc. It’s a bit hard to find someone who’s all of that, when communities usually limit themselves to only one of these. If you got cool music that sounds like it’d come from an old videogame, we’ll probably love it too.

We’re probably gonna talk about random stuff, thoughts we have. Maybe we’ll share our Twitch here sometimes. We’ll be in the SMRAT Tournament, starting tomorrow. It’s a randomizer of Super Metroid. Lots of fun! Maybe we’ll share one or two drawings, although we draw rarely. We got little time for that, with all of the real-life stuff that happened. Maybe we’ll just write a few things that happened during that day. Maybe there’ll be someone who’ll like it?

Oh yeah, maybe I should say what names we go by. As a whole, either of ‘Colors’, ‘Vibrant’ or ‘Vibrant Colors’ is nice. In terms of frequent fronters, you should find... - Iris (me!), who goes by she. - Lyssa, who goes by fae. - Vanessa, who goes by she. - Chimera, who goes by they. - Skylar, who goes by he or xe. And maybe a few others, depending of who feels easy here. We’ll write our name at the end (if we remember...), like this: ~ Iris

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somuchbetterthanthat · 5 years

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i’m highly embarassed at a misread I’ve made of a post, so now i’m just distracting myself by diving into @sceptiqueveille ‘s challenge for me (sorry love, it’s three not five).

This story is very much about Jon being pinned to walls.

[warning for absolutely not-discussed-properly-unealthy-bdsm-practice/kinks-in-the-middle]

“This is such a bad habit and you know it,” Georgie tells him;

She’s a little bit drunk, and it takes her several seconds to light up Jon’s cigarette; Jon takes a puff and leans against the wall; Georgie puts the lighter back in his jacket, and then keeps her hand right there, seeking some warmth into his pocket. He offers her the cigarette. She takes it, hums around it more than anything, and then she repeats: “A terrible habit. You’re quitting tomorrow.”

“Right until Harry’s next monologue about his incredible adventures in the States,” Jon agrees dryly, and Georgie snorts.

“God he’s awful, isn’t he?”

“I could smoke my whole pack of cigarettes and I’m sure he’ll still be on and on about the freedom and peace that comes with endless deserted roads.”

“Mmm.” Georgie leans in and lets her other hand rest of Jon’s stomach, warm and firm. “You could do something so much more pleasant than smoking, you know.”

Jon’s eyes flutter as she stares up at him, her lips curled into a teasing smile that he’s learnt to read as flirting over the past few months. He feels his heart skips a beat; it’s not new anymore, Georgie and him being a thing, but it still randomly hits him that he loves her, and that for some absurd, uncanny reason, she seems to like him back.

“Is that so?” he asks, and tries to keep his tone cool and collected, as though he could manage to hide anything from her.

“Mm-mm,” she nods, and steals the cigarette from his fingers; she crushes it before he can protest (those things are getting expensive, and he’s not even nearly done -) and throws it with rather exceptional precision into the bin a few meters away before bringing back her hands, both of them this time, on Jon’s chest.

She pushes him lightly, without any proper force in it, but he lets himself fall more against the wall and bends his head obligingly as she gets on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her lips are warm and sweet and familiar; Jon closes his eyes for a moment and raises his hands to put them on Georgie’s hips. Before he can do that though, she moves herself and grasps his wrists, pinning them back to the wall.

“Georgie,” he breathes out against her mouth, flushing brightly.

His heart has skipped another beat, for a whole different reason. She laughs as he hisses ‘we’re in public’

“Do you feel indecent, Jonathan?” she grins up to him, her thumb gently caressing Jon’s wrist.

“I - I mean, you can’t just -”

“I thought we said I could,” she sing-songs.

“We’re in public,” he repeats, faintly.

“Relax, Jon,” she tells him; she presses another kiss on his mouth, and he does, instinctively, eases up into it. “I’m just kissing my gorgeous boyfriend. Nobody can be shocked about that. Besides, they’re all riveted by Harry’s stories, remember? Or drunk out of their minds.”

She steps closer still; her hands are firm, but her grin is bright and happy and soft and Jon forgets to worry, because he really wants to kiss her some more.

“Okay,” he says and his cheeks are a bit pink when she laughs again and says you’re so easy for me Jonathan Sims. He doesn’t try and deny it, just grins back against her mouth and lets himself be kissed.

Jon doesn’t expect Elias to get up; to be fair, he’s past any fancy idea of Elias doing anything at all, apart from sitting at his desk and listening to him rage on with a mild and patient air that makes Jon even angrier. Today is in no way different, only there’s something thrumming in Jon’s skin, skittering at the edge of his brain and he can’t bear to be down at the Archives where guilt eats at him every time he crosses path with his assistants, and there is usually something satisfying about yelling at Elias about his uselessness.

But Elias rises up and, more than that, takes off his jacket and takes a few steps towards Jon. Jon - because he has some sort of self-preservation - takes a few steps back.

“What are you doing?” he snaps; Elias hums at the compulsion; doesn’t answer, of course, though his lips twitch with the hint of a smile that Jon refuses to admit makes his mouth dry.

“You’re on edge,” Elias says after enough time has passed that they’re both sure it’s not forced out of him. “You haven’t slept in days, you’re angry and worried and needy.”

“I -”

“You want answers I won’t give,” Elias continues; he takes another step - Jon’s self-preservation battles with his curiosity at the change in their usual scenario. He wavers on his feet. “Fortunately, you’re also seeking some sort of control, and that I’m more than ready to help with.”

“Wha -” Jon begins, but then Elias’ hand is suddenly resting on his throat, firm and heavy.

He doesn’t squeeze, but Jon stills all the same, eyes darting up to meet Elias’; it feels like falling; the intensity of his piercing, burning blue eyes hits Jon like a slap and he gasps; it feels like the entire world is watching them and the pressure is terrifying and - slipping from him, already. His mind arches towards it and Elias offers him a sharp, fond smile, his thumb rubbing over his skin before his grip tightens. Not long nor hard enough as to entirely stops Jon from breathing, but enough that Jon shudders violently.

“Just a tad too soon yet, Jon,” Elias says, almost gentle. “But you’ll get there. And I’m sure it’ll be as magnificent as promised. But for now, we’ve got other matters to address -”

Jon tries to think of something to snark back at him, but Elias starts walking again, his grip of Jon’s throat still strong, and Jon finds himself stumbling backwards clumsily until his back hits the wall; it occurs to him he should fight, raise his hands, or do - something. Anything. But he just watches Elias watching him, studying him, until Elias nods and says: ‘well’ and starts squeezing.

Jon’s instinctive reaction is immediate; his hand jerks up to grasp at Elias’ wrist but Elias just squeezes harder, and Jon’s mouth opens hopelessly, seeking air and failing to get any; his legs buckle underneath him as Elias’ other hand comes to rest upon his chest, right onto his heart, which is beating wildly and loudly. He doesn’t know how long it last; he knows that Elias’ grip tightens and tightens until he can’t think of anything else but that, until his whole brain screams for air, all other thoughts forgotten or discarded; he knows that even this disappears, until all that’s left is the pressure and the pain and the utter, impossible peace that comes from it; (and, underneath it still, beyond his blurry vision, and the black spots that color it, beyond Elias’ piercing blue eyes he hasn’t stopped looking into, something else is watching, something that’s -)

The pressure decreases; Jon is weeping; breathing hurts as much as being forbidden to; Elias moves closer, his hand leaving Jon’s throat to gently wipes away a few tears, and he lets his forehead fall against his. Jon blindly grasps at his shirt.

“Very good,” Elias murmurs. “You’re doing so very good Jonathan.”

They exhale together the same shaky, reverent breath.

Martin doesn’t push him against the wall, exactly; he guides him there, hands on Jon’s shoulders, firm and gentle at once, and once Jon’s back is against it, he doesn’t move for a while; Jon knows he’s waiting to see if Jon will try to move or not. It happened, before; Jon wants to be good for him, most times desperatedly so, but his will is not - what it used to be. Sometimes, he is too hungry; too on edge; even now, he can still feel it, the bright minds two floors up, full of stories that he hasn’t gotten yet, but he stays very still, because he is downstairs with Martin, and that’s more important.

“That’s good,” Martin smiles, sounding pleased, and Jon breathes out, tension uncurling slightly in his stomach. “I’m still going to tie you up a bit, alright? Not because I don’t trust you,” he adds, very seriously, raising a hand to gently caress Jon’s cheek. “Just because it sounds nice, right now.”

Jon nods slowly; he doesn’t trust his voice right now; he’s too curious as to what Martin wants to do. Instead he watches him. Martin looks a bit tired, but he always does these days - lots of pression comes with being the head of the Institute’s assistant, as well as, well, Jon’s... manager, if that’s the world for it - but his eyes are soft, his expression calm and confident and that’s always lovely to lean into. Jon wants to pry into his head, wants to know him, understands everything he’s feeling right now, even as his hands slides down Jon’s arms, careful and slow, spinning web around them, but he restrains himself, as always.

Martin doesn’t like that and anything Martin doesn’t like him doing he assumes to be wrong these days. He has to have some sort of moral code. Martin and him both agree on that.

It’s odd, being pinned to the wall by Martin’s thin strands of web. It isn’t heavy like chains or rope, or even ribbons, but it’s stronger, somehow; Once Martin has reached his hands, Jon gives a soft, experimental tug, and finds he’s completely immobilized. His heart flutters, He licks his lips,

“Good,” repeats Martin. He caresses Jon’s cheek again, and Jon instinctively leans into it; that makes Martin grin, soft and happy. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Jon breathes out.

“You know I need more than that,” Martin points out. His voice is still gentle, but Jon can feel the way he pulls at his string; it makes him shiver.

“I’m hungry,” he says, more honestly. “There’s someone upstairs I need to hear the story of. They’re really -”

“You read a statement this morning, Jon,” Martin comments lightly. Jon wants to protests that it’s nothing comparable, but he knows Martin is already aware of that. So he breathes out, slowly, and says “right.” and it’s worth it for the way Martin’s smile widens again, and his thumb passes across his lips.

“I’m happy being here with you,” he concludes then, stiff and honest too, and Martin’s thumb stills on his mouth. Jon presses a light kiss on it. He knows he’s supposed to wait but surely that barely counts.

“You know the rule,” Martin says all the same, almost instinctively, though his gaze is so full of love that Jon’s legs feel very weak. He’s grateful for the web, suddenly.

“Please,” he manages to say, all the same. “May I have a kiss?”

“As much as you want,” Martin answers and his hands are tender on Jon’s face when he bends down to kiss him. Jon doesn’t try to go against his bonds again, just hums against Martin’s lips, and it’s already hard to think of anything else than the warmth of his mouth when Martin murmurs, several kisses later: “I’m so happy you’re here with me too.”

#the magnus archives #.............well. i had. feelings.#now i'm going to go do some groceries and stuff because i'm hungry and uh; yeah #tma stories

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katecarteir · 5 years

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ask me to stay. | chapter two | 8.3k

“No! This is stupid.” Eddie said, trying to keep the tears from his eyes. “I never should have come, my mother was right. This was a huge mistake!”

Richie gave him a look he couldn’t read, and turned back to the smoking truck.

[or: the year is 1994, and Eddie Kaspbrak is in love.]

chapter warnings: period typical homophobia, sonia kaspbrak’s a+ parenting, internalized homophobia and So Much goddamn pining that it’s almost not funny.

read on AO3!

Eddie braced himself for hitting the ground, barely feeling the the impact within his ankles. Richie grinned at him as Eddie straightened up to stand. “You get braver everyday, Eds.”

It wasn’t true, but Eddie smiled anyway. Ever since that night up at the Quarry, things had changed between the Losers. Eddie wasn’t sure if Richie had ended things with Beverly or not, didn’t think it was hit place to ask Richie, but it made him unsure of how to act around Beverly. Richie and Beverly seemed to be spending less time together, but Richie had always had a bad habit of distancing himself whenever he was going through something. It was a toxic trait that Eddie wished Richie could grow out of, but he only seemed to fall more into himself as he got older.

Richie let out an overly loud sigh, staring up at the sky and letting the sun hit his face. Eddie loved the way the sunlight made his freckles look golden, and hated himself for it. Richie’s bruises from his run-in with Patrick were almost faded, and his lips were back to drawing Eddie’s attention simply for gay reasons. It was truly summer at least, and summer always meant the Denbrough’s lakehouse launch party.

”Your mom is letting you go this year, right?” Richie asked as though he could read Eddie’s mind. “Because it always blows major dick when you aren’t there.”

“Do you actually blow on it?” Eddie asked, turning to Richie with wide eyes. “Your dick, during blowjobs… because that doesn’t sound good, it sounds awful.” Richie was wiggling his eyebrows and Eddie immediately regretted ever opening his mouth. “Oh my god, no, shut up. Don’t even….”

“Come on, Eds.” Richie said, with over-exaggerated sleeze. “We can find out.”

Eddie shoved at Richie roughly, so that his friend stumbled and fell down into the grass, laughing. “Beep fucking beep.” Eddie stared angrily down at Richie for a moment, momentarily annoyed at how his friend cackled before the laughter made Eddie’s chest warm as it always did. He held his hand up and helped hoist Richie back to his feet. Their hands were lowered to their sides, but they stayed joined. The inside of Eddie’s body was warm.

“You didn’t answer my questions,” Richie pointed out, smiling a little softly down at Eddie. He cursed Richie’s growth spurt from the past year, he truly did. Through seventh grade until junior year, Eddie and Richie had nearly been neck and neck in height, along with Beverly. The three of them had regularly been the shortest Losers, the three of them constantly bouncing back and forth within height ranking so frequently that you could almost never tell who was taller. Until this last summer, when Richie had come back from staying with his aunts at the end of August nearly four inches taller than Eddie and Bev. Neither of them had gotten even close to catching up, and Richie had added on another inch or two since then. Now, Eddie could probably tuck his head underneath Richie’s chin if he ever had the nerve to try.

The sun might have been hovering over them a little too directly, because Eddie suddenly felt way too fucking hot. He dropped Richie’s hand and shuffled away slightly, biting at his bottom lip. He couldn’t just hold Richie’s hand out in public like this - hell, he couldn’t hold Richie’s hand anywhere, it wasn’t his to hold. Eddie’s backyard wasn’t any more private than his front, he had nosey neighbours on all sides. Neighbours that absolutely would see something so innocent and turn it into something real bad to report to Sonia. Then Eddie’s life was as good as over.

“Yes, she’s letting me come.” Eddie said quietly, turning to walk out to the street. He heard Richie scamper after him. “I don’t even know how I did it. There was a lot of crying, and I’d pretty much given up, then she randomly changed her tune. Said that she had to accept that I wasn’t going to be an adult soon, and she can’t stop from doing things.”

“Well…” Richie said, sounding a little uneasy. Ever since the truth of what Sonia Kaspbrak was really like, Richie had been obviously putting a lot more effort into being considerate towards it. He still made your mom jokes, because he wouldn’t be Trashmouth Tozier if he didn’t, but it was clear that he tried to take real conversations about Sonia as seriously as possible. Eddie loved him for it, and never mentioned it. “That’s probably a good thing, right? If she’s starting to take you seriously like that, maybe she’s going to tone it down completely.”

“Doubt it.” Eddie said with a short laugh as he and Richie began to make their way down the sidewalk. “If anything, she’s using this as like… blackmail or something. When I bring up college applications next year, it’ll be all Oh, Eddie Bear, you don’t need to go to college. Don’t you remember going to the lakehouse last summer?”

The corners of Richie’s mouth twitched at Eddie’s scarily accurate imitation of his mother. He forced down the laughter though, not sure it would be appreciated at this moment. “I can’t believe you and your ma haven’t talked about college. My parents have been shoving it down my throat since like… eighth grade. They have their hearts set on fucking Princeton or some other Ivy fuckshow.”

“I think my Ma believes that if we don’t talk about it, then I won't’ go.” Eddie said glumly, sounding fully Eryore-like. He felt Richie nudge him with his elbow and he sent Richie a small beam. “It’s fine, though. I turn eighteen before graduation, so my dad’s trust fund unlocks and goes to me. I don’t need her permission for anything then.”

“Thank fuck for that.” Richie said cheerily. “Where do you want to go, Eds? Where in this big wide world calls to you?”

Wherever you are, Eddie thought wistfully, then resented it. Richie would bitch and bitch about it, but he’d go to Princeton if that’s what his parents wanted. Eddie wasn’t going to be getting into Princeton, and if he did… even with his dad’s fund, he wouldn’t be able to afford it. And he couldn’t- wouldn’t- go chasing around the world for Richie Tozier. He could do better things. “New York, maybe.” Eddie said with a shrug. “Always wanted to see the city. What about you?”

“California, dude.” Richie said, giving him a quick surf’s up. “I’m going to go where the snow doesn’t fly and never look back. Stanny and I have talked about it, a bit, I guess. Probably go together, shack up in some trashy Cali apartment and save on money.”

Stan. Of course it was Stanley. Eddie tried not to be disappointed, knowing that Richie and Stan had practically shared diapers. There was nothing to be jealous about, and it wasn’t fair for Eddie to let it eat at him. It wasn’t fair to Richie… or himself… and definitely wasn’t fair to Stanley, who was the most innocent of bystanders in Eddie’s churning mind. “You’ll burn up like lobster in California.”

Richie grinned and ruffed at Eddie’s hair. Eddie squawked and pushed him away, the two walking the rest of the way to Denbrough’s in mindless conversation and soft giggles. They were the last to arrive, as they usually were, and all the other Losers were standing around the front yard. Eddie noted that the grass still hadn’t been mowed.

“B-b-bad nuh-news,” Bill said as soon as they walked up. Richie moved from Eddie’s side, taking Beverly’s hand without either of them looking at the other. Their hands were loose at their sides, and Eddie forced himself not to look.

“Finally, you guys are here,” Ben said, sounding more frustrated than Eddie was used to hearing him. “Bill’s been refusing to tell us his bad news until Richie got here. Can we get to it, please?”

Bill rolled his eyes and looked at Richie. “My p-p-parents are being hardasses. They w-w-w-won’t let me take the wag-wagon so we’re st-st-stuck with the c-c-car and-”

“And you need me to drive somebody in my truck?” Richie asked with a smirk. The only person who seemed to enjoy cutting off Bill’s stuttering sentences more than Richie, was Ben. But Ben hadn’t done it in years, not since the silent feud between them over Beverly had come to an end. Richie just did it to be a little asshole, everybody knew.

Bill glared at him, but he wasn’t actually mad. “I was th-hinking that you and Buh-Bev could travel with us in the t-t-ttruck-”

“I’m not going with Richie,” Beverly said a little sharply. The eyes of the other five Losers all turned to look at them, and Beverly blushed a bit. “He’s a shit driver! I don’t want to die, I barely let him drive me to school! Take Eddie.”

“Oh, so you want Eddie to die in a fiery crash then?” Mike asked, laughing awkwardly as he cleared tried to lighten the mood. Richie took his hand free from Beverly’s, covering it up by clearly scratching at his chin and Eddie’s stomach clenched at how uncomfortable he looked.

“Nobody’s dying,” Richie said with an eye roll. “If we really don’t want me driving- then Ben can. It would be easier because I’ve driven there before but whatever. I’m sure we can figure it-”

“I’ll just go with Richie, it’s fine. Everybody has to take one for the team sometimes” Stan grumbled suddenly, and Eddie’s stomach flared. He’d been so concerned with Richie’s discomfort in Beverly’s display that he hadn’t noticed what was going on.

“Don’t strain yourself, Stanley.” Eddie shot at him, knowing his voice was too angry but not being bothered to care. They were fighting over who had to ride with Richie! “I’m going with Richie.”

The air was tense for a moment, and Richie was giving Eddie some sort of look he couldn’t read, but the Losers soon moved back towards the excitement of the trip. Richie moved to stand beside Eddie, the two of them slightly apart from their friends. “I broke up with Beverly,” Richie whispered to him. “That’s why she’d being so weird.”

“You… what?” Eddie gaped at his friend. So many questions blew up in his mind in that moment, and he couldn’t find anything in him to ask. Richie seemed to know, somehow, what the most pressing questions were.

“Last Saturday, after I thought about what I told you at the Quarry.” Richie continued, watching their friends with a neutral expression that didn’t fit his personality. “She took it okay, She thought that we should wait to tell everybody until after the trip to keep it from being awkward. Guess she thought after that I could just duck out of the group without ruffling any feathers.”

Beverly didn’t think that, would never want that because she wasn’t that sort of malicious person. Eddie knew that- and Richie likely did as well - but it didn’t stop Richie’s words from stinging. He pressed his hand to Richie’s elbow and squeezed. “I’ll go with you.” It was an empty promise, as nobody was leaving the Losers Club for anything, but still a promise.

Richie beamed at him, and swayed forward slightly. His chest bumped against each other’s, Eddie’s hand squeezing at Richie’s elbow all the tighter. It was Richie’s eyes flicking down to Eddie’s lips, but still Eddie’s heart racing completely erratically. He could kiss Richie right now, he wouldn’t even have to stretch with how Richie was leaning down. Forget everything Eddie had ever told himself, everything he knew was right and what he couldn’t do. Forget all the people around them, people who may never accept them or forgive them. He could kiss Richie, he really could. Richie might not even pull away if he did.

“Hey, asshats!” Mike called over to them, grinning a little too knowingly for Eddie’s comfort. Richie took a step away from him, and Eddie noticed him blushing slightly. “Are you going to help us pack this car?”

Richie laughed, stepping towards the car and kicking his foot slightly against the suitcase that was most likely Bill’s. Eddie marvelled at Richie’s ability to act so normal so quickly. “We’re not even taking the car. Why should we have to pack it with your stuff?”

“In Richie talk, that means Richie hasn’t packed yet.” Mike said with a snicker. “And don’t try to deny it, because we can all see that you didn’t bring any bags.”

“Hey!” Richie cried, but he was finally grinning jokingly again. “Spaghetti Man over here doesn’t have a bag. Why are we digging at me?”

“Eddie probably didn’t even know if he was coming or not until last night or this morning,” Mike pointed out, grabbing the suitcase at his feet and hoisting it into the back. “So, it’s perfectly excusable that he hasn’t packed yet. You, on the other hand, are just an extreme procrastinator who can never get anything done even close to on time.”

“I’ll be s-s-surprised if he’s e-e-even packed b-before we leave t-t-tomorrow,” Bill said, head popping out from between the backseats to grin at them. “Have to walk around in the s-s-same dirty cl-clothes all w-w-weekend.”

“Or I could take the clothes off altogether,” Richie said with a leer. The back of Eddie’s neck turned warm once again, and he bitterly turned away. His gaze met Mike’s, and Mike’s eyes seemed just a little too amused for his liking. Eddie wrapped his arms around his middle and kicked at Richie’s ankle.

“Can I stay at yours tonight?” He asked gingerly. “After I go and get my stuff from home? I’m a little afraid that if I’m at home, my ma will try to guilt trip me into not going… or take away my permission, you know? If I’m not there, she can’t.”

“Sure, Eds.” Richie said, finally giving Mike and Stan a hand with all the suitcases and bags. “Saves time in the morning since I’m picking you up anyway.”

“Oh my God.” Ben gasped suddenly, looking around at the other Losers and seeming almost starstruck. “Guys… We don’t have to wait for Richie in the morning.”

There was loud, excited chattering amongst the Losers while Richie made large, sweeping motions of annoyance. “Oh, okay! Okay! I get it! Trash the Trashmouth! Fine, fine!” Eddie leaned back a little bit, pressing his hands against his lips to cover his smirk. “Eddie is the only one who’s good enough for me!”

Eddie raised his brow, and he could see Richie’s actions in the way you could see a cat’s eyes dilate before attack. Eddie had barely managed to brace his knees before Richie came rushing at him and leapt into Eddie’s eyes. He’d hardly been able to keep himself standing for three seconds before crumpling to the ground under Richie’s weight.

“Richard, you goddamn giant… You’re too fucking tall to around jumping on people!” Beverly laughed at them.

When Richie and Eddie walked back to the Tozier house that night, Eddie’s heart began to race. He struggled to trace the sudden anxious pit in his stomach back to a source: it was easily the idea of facing his mother right now. Or maybe it was the way Richie’s arm was brushing against his own while they walked. It definitely could have been that.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Richie asked, gesturing towards the house they stood in front of us. “I can distract your mom while you pack and dash?”

Richie’s tone made it sound like a dirty joke, but Eddie knew it was an genuine offer. Richie Tozier never had any qualms about pissing off Sonia Kaspbrak, and he was always willing to whip it out as a secret weapon to help out Eddie.

“No,” Eddie sighed regretfully. The summers early year heat had caused sweet to cling to Eddie’s hair and press it down against his forehead. He swiped it away and gave Richie a small smile. “I’m on thin ice enough with the monster. The last thing we should do is poke the sleeping bear.”

Richie smiled back at him. The sun was starting to set and the air was beginning to set with the early summer chill. Sweaters and shorts weather, goosebumps were already starting to rise up on Eddie’s forearms. He rubbed at his arm as he and Richie took part of their new activity of staring at one another for long periods of time for no reason without speaking.

Richie cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to go inside? Because I’d offer to give you clothes to wear but you think my style is - and I quote- “thrift store castaways” so-“ Richie shrugged and smirked. He made a swooping gesture towards the house. Eddie exhaled shakily, and was surprised when he felt Richie’s hand wrap around his wrist and squeeze gently. “Just go in, tell your ma you’re staying at my place because we have an early morning. Go up to your room, throw some shit into your backpack and get outta there. You’ve got this, Eds Spageds. I will wait for you; and promise to come running in if I heard screams.”

Eddie smiled at him, admittedly still nervous and walked past Richie. He flipped his friend off over his shoulder when Richie let out a loud wolf whistle as he walked. He held his other hand against his cheek and felt the warmth of his blush.

His mother was waiting up for her, completely unsurprisingly. Sonia could sleep through a train running through their house, but she’d never go to bed unless she knew Eddie was home. Luckily, she’d sleep through him sneaking out - or Richie sneaking in - later, without fail.

“Eddie bear! You’re late!” Eddie didn’t have an official curfew, and it was only 8:30, He rolled his eyes and leaned in to give his mother a quick kiss to the cheek.

“I’m going to grab some stuff and spend the night over at the Toziers,” Eddie said quickly with a small, forced smile. Sonia gave him a disapproving cluck of her tongue and Eddie frowned. “Don’t do that, Ma. He’s driving me out to the lake house tomorrow mike thing. It’s easier if I just stay the night there and we leave together first thing.”

“I don’t know if I want you taking the drive with that boy.” Sonia said that boy that way she would have said toxic sludge that’s eating through my floor and Eddie already felt himself bristling. “I don’t want you around boys like that. He’s a bad influence on you, Eddie bear, I won’t have him swaying you.”

“Richie’s not a bad person, Ma.” Eddie said with a sigh. He’d been having this same argument since the second grade, and he was beyond sick of it. “He’s got best grades in our class, he’s probably going to be validictorian. I don’t know why you have to be so hard on him all the time. You aren’t like this with my other friends!”

“That Tozier…” Sonia shook her head and glared towards the front door. “I’m afraid that if you spent too much time around him, you’ll start to make allowances for his… lifestyle. I know you’re impressionable, Eddie, but you can’t let him make you think that way of life is okay. It isn’t.”

Eddie frowned. Lifestyle? It donned on him pretty quickly what it was that his mother was implying and his whole body suddenly burned hot. He could feel his hands shaking. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Mother.”

He turned to stompe towards the stairs but knew without looking that Sonia was waddling after him. “Eddie, do not walk away when I’m talking to!”

“I have to go pack mother.” Eddie said coldly. “Richie is waiting outside for me.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said, Edward!?!”

“Yes, Mom. I heard you.” Eddie said sharply, finally turning to loom at her from the bottom step of the stairs. “But I don’t have to stand here and listen to you talk about my best friend like that- whether what you’re saying is true or not.” Sonia stared up at him with a look of severely discontent and it sent a thrill down his spine. “You don’t get to pass judgement on my friends. Not with the things you’ve done. Richie would never hurt me, no matter what you think you he is.”

Sonia let out a loud huff, and crossed her arms. Eddie turned on his heel and rushed up the stairs before his mother could give him any more lectures or throw anymore comments about Richie. Untrue, hurtful comments. Richie wasn’t… but Eddie was. And Sonia’s behavior towards what she simply believes to be true about Richie, just cements that he’ll never be able to tell her. He started grabbing whatever clothes he could find in his drawers, mildly hoping that they would be okay to wear for the weekend, and started for the stairs at a run.

“EDDIE!” Sonia shouted after him, sounding utterly tearful as Eddie refused to look at her as he ducked out the house. Keeping his head down, with his backpack hiked up over his shoulders, he rushed right past Richie and made his way down the street.

“Hey, Eds! Eddie, wait.” With his long legs, Richie was able to check up to his friend pretty quickly. He pressed his hand to the bottom of Eddie’s spine and Eddie could slightly see the concerned look on his friend. “What did she say to you?”

And what could Eddie say now? That his mother made hateful comments about Richie that got Eddie upset because those hateful things applied to him- and not Richie? That he’s also upset because those thing don’t apply to Richie and some part of him deep down wished that it did? No, no. Eddie couldn’t say those things, he’d already sworn to himself that he would never put his friendship with Richie at risk like that.

Eddie had been forced to accept his feelings for his best friend back in sophomore year, when the Losers had gone to their first formal dance and he’d watched Richie and Beverly slow dancing. His heart and stomach had soured, and he’d had to walk outside because he couldn’t watch it anymore. Sitting outside in the middle of February had given Eddie lots of time to get lost in his own head and figure out some important things about himself. 1) He was definitely gay. Yeah, he’d been pretty sure of this for a while but there was really no denying it now. 2) He liked Richie. This might have been something that he known deep down for a while, but he’d been fighting against admitting it to himself. It was all up here in his face now, he had to bite the bullet here…. And 3) Richie was happily in love with his girlfriend, and Eddie’s best friend, therefore Richie could never know about Eddie’s stupid crush.

It’s not just a stupid crush, was it? Eddie’s brain told him mockingly. It’s much more than that now. And Richie isn’t happily in love with his… Eddie shook the thoughts from his head. No going down that road. Richie being single didn’t mean he’d stopped being straight. “Just the usual shit,” Eddie said with a rough sigh. “All the bullshit about being weak and how it’s best for me to stay home with her. It just pisses me off.”

Richie tossed his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. Eddie knew that he was blushing terribly, and was thankful for the setting sun in that moment for guarding it. “Awe, Eds. You’re the toughest lil bastard I know. Don’t fucking listen to her.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed, leaning into Richie’s touch. Letting the warmth feed him comfort for this moment when he needed it. He knew that he shouldn’t waste his time indulging himself in Richie Tozier, knowing that it was only going to hurt him the long run. But if Richie was willing to give the comfort, then Eddie would accept it for as long as it was being offered to him.

They walked the rest of the way to the Tozier house in silence, Richie’s arm around his shoulder. The house was dark as when they reached it, nothing out of the ordinary. Richie’s mother worked the morning shift as a nurse at Derry’s hospital, and was often in bed by nine in the evening. If Richie’s father was home, he’d been watching television quietly in the den or more like working in his home office. Eddie wasn’t really sure what it was that Wentworth Tozier did for a living, and when he asked Richie about it, the answer had been vague enough that he suspected that maybe Richie didn’t really know either.

“I think my dad is out tonight. Working or something.” Richie said as he took the spare key out from underneath the welcome mat and unlocked his front door. “My Ma is definitely sleeping, so we’ll need to be quiet.”

That second part was a speal that Richie gave every time that Eddie slept over, but Eddie never grew tired of it. It made him smile to know how much Richie cared about his mother. He might act like some big edgy guy, but he’s an absolute mommas boy and everybody could see it. They both moved into the Tozier’s kitchen, Richie rummaging with practised quiet to grab two sodas from the fridge and a box of cookies from the cupboard. They made their way up to Richie’s bedroom and dropped side by side onto the bed.

“Are you going to ask me about what happened with Beverly?” Richie asked lightly, laying back onto the bed and resting the cookie box onto his stomach.

Eddie crawled up beside him and curled up by Richie’s side. “Do you want to tell me about Beverly?”

Richie had a arm propped up behind his head and let the other drop down around Eddie’s body. Pulling Eddie close enough that his head was near resting on Richie’s chest. He reached out and took a cookie from the box, hoping that Richie couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating right then. He felt Richie sigh.

“It was painless,” Richie said. “Really cut and dry. I picked her up from her house, drove out to the spot by the old train tracks and I told her. That I wasn’t really sure if I was in love with her, that I thought that we shouldn’t be in a relationship anymore. She seemed okay, kind of confused, but she didn’t cry which is what I was most worried about.”

Eddie nodded against Richie’s chest. For somebody who was as sensitive as Richie Tozier, he really didn’t handle emotions particularly well. His or anybody else’s. The fact that he was even able to have a break up conversation with Beverly was mildly impressive.

“Then she suggested that we don’t tell anybody that we’re broken up until after the lakehouse,” Richie continued, because once you got Richie talking it was hard to get him to stop. “She thought it would make the trip awkward and I kind of agreed, you know? You guys have seen as BevandRichie for so long that maybe it would make the trip awkward. Or maybe breaks ups are awkward all around, I don’t know. Whatever. I agreed with her, so we were going to tell everybody after we got back. But today she was all passive aggressive and weird, I don’t want that. I still want to best friends with Beverly. I do love her. I do.”

Eddie hummed, and wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle. Giving him a small squeeze. It was a friendly hug, for his friend who was feeling sad and confused. Perfectly innocent. Acceptable. “Do you think you guys will get back together?” NO, Eddie. Bad question. Selfish question. Don’t do this to yourself.

“No.” Richie said immediately. “Beverly isn’t the one for me. I know that. Maybe they’re out there, in like college and I’ll finally get that older women I’ve always fantasized about or uh…” Eddie swore that Richie’s eyes dropped down to him, and Eddie’s heart threw up a little in his chest. “Maybe they’re closer than that.”

“We, uh, we er-” Eddie was flushing and he rolled over onto his back. Richie’s arm now locked under his body as he stared up at the ceiling. “We should go to sleep. We need to get up early tomorrow.”

“Whatever you say, Eds.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

When Eddie came to the next morning, he was immediately aware of Richie’s arms around him in a vice-like grip. He was warm and utterly comfortable, not wanting to give it a single thought because if he did he might have a panic attack. Eddie fidgeted in Richie’s grip, noticing the amount of sun pouring into the window.

“Richard!” Eddie hissed angrily. Not that there was anybody in the house to wake up besides Richie. Mrs Tozier would have been gone beyond hours ago, and Eddie wasn’t sure if Mr Tozier was even home. If he ever slept. Eddie had never seen the man asleep. “Richie, get up, you lazy fucking asshole. We’re late.”

Richie made some cute, sleepy noises and Eddie’s heart leapt. He genuinely considered letting himself settle into Richie’s warm hold and going back to sleep himself. They didn’t really need to get up, they could stay here all weekend. But that was self indulgent, and not true.

Eddie whacked at the side of Richie’s head as he pulled himself free. Richie made a loud, wounded noise.

“Eds, why are beating me?” Richie whined, eyes still clenched shut tightly. He tossed the arm that was no longer wrapped about Eddie over his forehead and whined out wordlessly. “This is abuse. I think we need to see a counsellor. Work through our issues.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his sleep-sticky eyes. “It’s got to be almost noon, we were supposed to leave two hours ago.”

“Awe, shit.” Richie rolled out of bed. Literally rolled out of it. Just turned on his side, and dropped onto the floor. Eddie gaped at him as Richie stood up, shredding off his shirt as though he hadn’t done anything weird at all. Eddie frowned and shook his head. “Bill is never going to let me hear the end of this. Fuck. Get ready!”

Eddie squawked. “Me? You’d still be asleep if it wasn’t for you, you lazy ass!”

Richie gestured at Eddie seated on the bed. “And yet… Get that cute ass movin’, Kaspbrak. Let’s go.” The rest of the getting ready process which, yes, included Richie doing the entirety of his packing, was done in near silence. The two of them rushed quickly down the stairs, Richie grabbing two blueberry muffins from the tray on the table that was no doubt left behind by a Maggie Tozier who knew they weren’t going to wake up with enough time to themselves a breakfast.

As Richie locked the door to his house and moved to place the “hidden” key back into its obvious hiding place, Eddie looked up towards the sky, noticing that the sun that had woken them up was rapidly getting hidden behind dark clouds. “Uh… how comfortable are you with driving in the rain?”

Richie turned around and looked up towards the sky himself, giving it a side smile as though the sky was looking back at him. “Eds, baby, I’m always comfortable driving. It’s my passengers who are nervous.”

Eddie hummed non-committedly, taking their bags and tossing them into the back seat of Richie’s truck before the sky had a chance to open up and soak them with how fast the storm seemed to be coming in. Richie didn’t seem to have the same concerns, walking towards the truck at barely a crawl and letting himself in slowly. Eddie’s knee was bouncing when Richie finally got in.

“Do you know if any of the radio stations reach all the way up to the lakehouse?” Eddie asked, reaching for the dials as Richie started up the truck. “I can’t fucking stand the sound of the stations starting to cut in and out when we’re getting out of range.”

“I know you do,” Richie said with a soft smile. “That’s why I brought this mixtape I made for us. It’s just a bunch of songs that remind me of you, or that I think you’d like. And there’s no cutting in or out, and no static.”

“That’s awesome,” Eddie accepted the tape from Richie and started to push it into the player when he froze. “Wait, when did you make this? You didn’t know until yesterday that we’d be taking your truck, and I didn’t see you make this.”

Richie’s cheeks seemed to turn pink as Eddie turned over the tape titled “Spaghetti Songs” and frowned at it. Richie cleared his throat awkwardly and began to back out of his driveway. “I made it a while ago,” Richie admittedly, almost as though it physically hurt him to be saying these things. “We don’t have to listen to it if you’re going to be all nosy about it.”

Richie reached out for the tape and Eddie made a loud, squawking noise as he held it towards his chest. “Fuck you, we’re listening to it.” Eddie shut the tape into the deck and jerked back into his seat as Baby Got Back began to blare out of the speaker. He turned to Richie, who was driving with one hand while the other was pressed against his mouth to keep the laughter at bay. “Seriously? This song makes you think of me?”

“Hell yes it does!” Richie cackled, tossing his head back and letting himself succumb to his laughter. Eddie glared angrily at him as Richie swept a hand over Eddie’s body in the passenger seat. “I’ve seen you in your track uniform!”

“Don’t sexualize my uniform!” Eddie sheriked, swatting at Richie’s arm and pushing his hand back towards the steering wheel.

Richie was still laughing, and shaking his head. “Baby boy, I don’t need to sexualize anything about it. Your ass and thighs do that for me.”

Eddie turned back to the front window, cheeks burning hot, and chose to ignore Richie and focus on Sir-Mix-A-Lot and whatever trash Richie had put on this playlist and claimed it to be for him. Of course Richie Tozier would make a playlist that’s all overly sexaluized and dedicate it to him. It was just a joke to Richie, no doubt, but he really shouldn’t be doing those sort of things. The sort of things that got Eddie’s heart racing and brought up little twinges of hope in his gut that hurt him to snuff out before they grew into a problem.

Once Baby Got Back transformed into the second song on the playlist, Eddie decided that he wasn’t going to spend the entire six hour drive pretending to be mad at his best friend. They had easy conversation until the tape ended, and Eddie pulled it out. He flipped it over and moved to place back onto the second side when Richie smacked it out of his hand.

“NO!” He cried in an obvious panic. Eddie turned to look at him with wide eyes, cocking his head to the side and frowning. “I.. Uh… We should be able to get a radio station that goes from here until the house. We don’t need to listen to the other side.”

“Richie…” Eddie frowned deeply, looking towards the mixtape on the truck floor. “We’re still a good four hours away from the lakehouse! That’s at least two radio areas. What could be worse than the shitty music you put on the first side?”

“Nothing.” Richie grumbled, cheeks red and nose crinkled up in a scowl. “There’s nothing on it. It’s blank.”

“You recreated pretty strongly for a blank tape.” Eddie said, turning to Richie and frowning. Richie was staring out at the thick rain in front of them, the fog settling around the road. Richie didn’t answer for a long pause, and then gave a shaking exhale.

“Kaspbrak, I’m asking you to let this one go.”

Eddie didn’t get a chance to speak before there was loud rumbling noise from the front of Richie’s truck, and smoke quickly became visible coming from the front hood. Richie cursed under his breath and pulled the car quickly to the side of the road. Eddie watched his best friend get out from the truck and move to open the hood.

Eddie squirmed in his seat slightly, feeling an unnecessary guilt settle in his stomach. As a child, Eddie had often watched his father working on cars. It had been a favourite hobby of Frank Kaspbrak, and whenever Sonia wasn’t around, Eddie was go out into the garage and watch his dad work. Allowed himself to absorb the information his father would tell him, even at such a young age. Cars had fascinated Eddie just as much as they did Frank.

Richie had been complaining about his trucks functioning for awhile now, and Eddie had had a feeling all along that it was something simple that was wrong with it. Something that could have been fixed pretty easily, if Richie took it to get looked at. But Eddie had only mentioned his father a few times to his friends- and the car thing to Richie only once, the night they’d gotten drunk for the first time. He was sure that Richie didn’t even remember the story. It wasn’t as though Richie had ever asked Eddie to look at the truck or even imply that Eddie would have any idea what was wrong with it.

He watched Richie jumped back from the car, shaking his hand frantically, and Eddie rolled his eyes before stepping out of the car into the rain. He walked over to Richie and took hold of his obviously burned hand. It wasn’t bad, but it was already reddening. Likely wouldn’t blister, which was good. Eddie gave him an unimpressed look.

“Do you have any tools in this piece of junk?” Eddie asked, gesturing towards the truck. It already wasn’t smoking as badly, but that could have been from the rain. “Because you can’t just stick your bare hand in there and hope that works.”

“Awe, is my Eds going to fix my baby for me?” Richie beamed down at him, reaching out and ruffling Eddie’s already damp hair. Eddie swatted at Richie’s hand and glowered at him.

“No, asswipe. I don’t know how to fix a car.” Eddie snapped and Richie’s smile dropped into a look of confusion. His eyebrows knitted together and Eddie turned away. “And nobody is fixing anything if you don’t have tools.”

Richie shook his head slowly and moved to the back of the truck and came out with what was just a pair of scissors and a wrench. Eddie rolled his eyes again, and wiped the fringe of his hair away from his face. “Is that the best you got?”

Richie held his hands out in distressed gesture and stomps over to the truck with the ‘tools.’ He stared down at the vehicle with determination in his eyes and a deep frown on his face. It hit Eddie then that they were sitting on the side of the road, broken down truck, still several hours away from where they needed to be, and there was nowhere for them to go if this truck didn’t get moving again.

“This is stupid,” Eddie said, turning his face back up to the sky. Letting the rain fall onto his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I never should have come on this trip, my mother was right. This was a mistake.”

Richie turned to him slowly, an unreadable look on his face, as he clenched the wrench tighter in his hands.

“I don’t know why I bother trying,” Eddie said wetly, because once his brain started it spiralled down the darkest of holes. “She’s always right in the end, you know? I’m just… I’m fucking broken. And she knows it. I should’ve listened to her.”

Richie walked swiftly towards him, taking Eddie’s chin in his non-wrench holding hand and tugging Eddie’s gaze down and away from the sky. His eyes were burning deeply with a whole new level of seriousness that Eddie had never seen on Richie Tozier’s face before. “Eddie, I love you and I say this with all of the love in the world- shut the fuck up.”

Eddie gaped at him.

“You are not fucking broken, okay? Not even close.” Richie said, still cupping his face with one hand. He smiled then, rain drops dripping from eyelashes and nose. Eddie’s eyes trailed a single drop running down Richie’s cheek. “The only thing broken here is this fucking piece of shit truck from the 50s that my father ran into the ground before giving to me.” Eddie chuckled wetly, then smiled weakly up at Richie. Richie waggled his eyebrows. “And you’re going to fix it.”

Eddie’s mouth went dry. “No… I… what?”

Richie took his hand away from Eddie’s face, and grabbed Eddie’s hand. He pulled it up to lay flat-palmed between their bodies and dropped the wrench into it. “Fix it.”

“I don’t know how,” Eddie said quietly. Meekly. Richie cocked his brow and looked down at Eddie with a slight smirk. Eddie swallowed roughly and turned slowly towards the truck. He inhaled slowly and squared his shoulders. Richie’s fingers pushed on his, wrapping Eddie’s fingers around the wrench.

“Okay.” Eddie cringed as he had to wipe his oil slicked hands onto his shirt and he turned around to look at Richie, who was leaning against the truck hood with Eddie. His friend was utterly soaked through from the rain, water having making his hair resemble a wet dog and his heart jumped slightly. He shook the thoughts of Richie looking good while wet. He reached into the truck and turned the key. The sound wasn’t exactly flawless, but it was running and the truck wasn’t catching fire.

“Damn, Eds.” Richie whistled and grinned wolfishly. ‘You’re a little fucking mechanic, baby. I think we found your future calling!”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “I doubt that, Rich, but thanks. It’s not exactly fixed, you still are going to have to take it to a real mechanic. I’m not sure it’s even going to get us all the way to the lake.”

Richie looked at it thoughtfully. “Can it get us another 30 miles down the road? Because if I remember anything correctly about taking this trip, there’s a little trash motel there. We can check in, my mom gave me a credit card for emergencies, we can call Bill when we get there and get him to come get us there in the morning.”

Eddie crinkled up his nose. He’d never stayed in a hotel before, let alone some nasty hole in the wall motel off the highway. He didn’t have a chance to respond his distaste for the idea before Richie was cutting in. “Unless you want to sleep in the bed of my truck? Or risk driving all the way to the house?”

Eddie grumbled, pushed past Richie and got into the passenger seat. He could tell that Richie was smirking at the back of his head. Richie got into the driver's seat, still smirking, and they drove the rest of the way to the hotel in silence. It was already pushing nine at night by the time they started to check in, and Eddie stood away from Richie while he went through the process. He couldn’t really explain, even to himself, why he was mad at Richie. Not even to himself.

Richie seemed to have sensed Eddie’s darkened mood, because he didn’t say anything as he came over. He was holding the key to their room in his hands, and he took both his and Eddie’s bags from Eddie. He turned without a word, and walked towards the room. Eddie wrapped his arms around his middle and tried not to feel guilty about something he couldn’t explain to himself. Richie had done nothing except be supportive of Eddie today, and somehow it made Eddie want to give him the silent treatment. It made no sense, and Eddie hated it. Talking to Richie was one of his favourite things in the world, and he was pissed that his brain was taking it away from him.

Richie unlocked the door and Eddie stalled as he looked around. It was ugly printed and looked as though nobody had stepped foot in it since the 40s, but it was one double bed sitting in the middle of the room and pushed up against the wall. He stalled at the door to the room, remembering the feeling of Richie spooning him this morning and Eddie felt his heart start to race. Anxiety prickled at him and his hands started to tremble at his sides.

“Well, I’m tired.” Richie said a little stiffly. Eddie looked around the room and began to ring his hands. He knew that Richie wasn’t tired, they hadn’t even been awake for twelve hours. He was simply looking for an excuse to not have any conversation when Eddie was being weird, and he didn’t know if he appreciated it or if it made him sad.

“Okay” Eddie said softly, moving over to grab his pajamas. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“What?” Richie turned to look at him, frowning deeply and furrowing his brow. “Why would you sleep on the couch? There’s room in the bed.”

Eddie inhaled deeply. “We’re a little too old to sleep in the same bed. Don’t you think?”

“I, what…” Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No, I don’t think! How are we too old for sharing the same bed? You slept in my goddamn bed yesterday!”

Eddie sighed. “I just… I don’t want to share the bed, okay? You don’t need to make a big deal about it.”

“I’m not making a big deal about anything,” Richie’s mouth dropped open. “Eddie, you must fucking hate staying in this motel, okay? I know it’s not ideal. Sleeping on that nasty couch is going to so much worse. I bet it hasn’t even been cleaned since 1965. If you really don’t want to share, you take the bed. It might not be amazing, but it’ll definitely be cleaner.”

“No.” Eddie said, trying to sound firm but hearing how it sounded like a whine. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Leave it alone, Richie, okay?”

Richie sat down hard on the bed, and his jaw was clenched. “Okay, Eddie. Fine. Whatever.”

Eddie gathered up his clothes from his bag and stepped towards the bathroom. “I’m going to change.”

Richie pursed his lips and said nothing as Eddie moved into bathroom. As soon as the door shut, Richie ripped off his shirt and jeans so he was wearing just his boxers and crawled into the bed. He hesitated for a moment, then threw the larger of the blankets towards the couch for Eddie and shut off the light.

Eddie came back in the hotel and blinked in surprise to find the room dark. He stepped a little closer into the room and closed it slowly behind him. “Richie?” He whispered quietly into the room, and his friend didn’t answer. He didn’t shift in the bed. Richie was not asleep, Richie Tozier had struggled to get to sleep for as long as Eddie knew him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, maybe even too quiet for Richie to hear the words in the dark room. Maybe they never left his brain at all. He stepped towards the couch, and realized he couldn’t sleep there. He had too much pride to try to crawl into the bed with Richie, so he left the room. Nasty hotel blanket in one hand, Richie’s truck keys in the other.

He ran to the truck, the weather still raining, He got into the truck and curled up into a ball on the passenger seat. It was cold and the sound of the rain was soothing, and Eddie felt maybe he could sleep here. Then his eyes fell to the mix tape still left on the floor from when Richie had knocked it from his hands.

Don’t do it Kaspbrak, Eddie’s brain screamed at him. Richie didn’t want you to hear the other side of that tape! He asked you to let it go. Let it got. But Eddie had already picked up the tape and was starting up the truck so he could put it into the player.

The first song came on, and it was no Baby Got Back. It was much slower, having a good, slow pace. He rested his head against the window with the blanket wrapped tightly around him.

In the instant that you love someone, in the second that the hammer hits. Reality runs up your spine, and the pieces finally fit.

Eddie was crying by the end of that first song. The blankets pressed over his mouth to muffle how he was sobbing. His heart had shriveled in his chest as he heaved out heavy breaths.

And all I ever needed was the one. Like freedom fields where horses run. When stars collide like you and I. No shadows block the sun. You’re all I’ve ever needed. Baby, you’re the one...

As the first song came to an end, Eddie quickly ejected the tape and tossed it back to the floor. He wiped frantically at the tears on his face, and wondered for one second that Richie was pulling some terrible, terrible joke on him. The cruelest prank of all the time.

And then he remembered.

Richie hadn’t wanted him to hear the tape.

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #scl tag #we stan me dropping updates in the dead of night

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spellnbone · 5 years

Text

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT 004: MYER BRIGGS

YOUR PERSONALITY TYPE IS: MEDIATOR (INFP-A)

Mind: 74% Introverted / 26% Extroverted Energy: 15% Observant / 85% Intuitive Nature 86% Feeling / 14% Thinking Tactics: 35% Judging / 65% Prospecting Identity: 728% Assertive / 28% Turbulent

Mediator personalities are true idealists, always looking for the hint of good in even the worst of people and events, searching for ways to make things better. While they may be perceived as calm, reserved, or even shy, Mediators have an inner flame and passion that can truly shine. Comprising just 4% of the population, the risk of feeling misunderstood is unfortunately high for the Mediator personality type – but when they find like-minded people to spend their time with, the harmony they feel will be a fountain of joy and inspiration.

The INFP personality does reflect Edgar quite well. He does tend to come of as a calm sea, while those who know him know that there’s wonders lurking in the depth of his mind. It is however surprising to see that his Thinking is less impactful than his Feeling, as you’d expect him, he who reads and ponders so much, to be less of an heart-person and more of a head-person. Yet, I do think it fits. His Thinking is driven by Feeling, by the wish to understand and explore more than to just analyse and take the facts as they are. He cares about how they impact the world, the universe, the people around him, and how he feels about it all is an important factor that makes him read so much.

Mediators have a talent for self-expression, revealing their beauty and their secrets through metaphors.

This is certainly accurate for Edgar. While this self-expression is never meant to be expressed for the sake of others, but simply because his words are an outlet for the thoughts he gathers and connects, he does love to talk about it. Not constantly, not randomly, but with those he trusts and those he wishes to join the conversation.

Listen to Many People, but Talk to Few

This also applies beautifully to Edgar. While he definitely doesn’t struggle to hold a conversation, he enjoys listening more than to preach (even if he were someone who thought his own words deep or important enough for preaches, which he certainly isn’t). Perhaps this won’t show as well in this RP, as most of the people around him, the members of the Order, are deeply trusted people, so of course he is able -- and willing! -- to share his thoughts with them. An interaction with a stranger would certainly look different than with someone by whose side he has fought for death and life. Perhaps it’ll show itself in the recently-joined members, compared to those who have been in the Order with him for a long time.

If they are not careful, Mediators can lose themselves in their quest for good and neglect the day-to-day upkeep that life demands. Mediators often drift into deep thought, enjoying contemplating the hypothetical and the philosophical more than any other personality type.

The latter goes without question, the former, I believe has shown itself in recent years. Certainly, Edgar has always been withdrawn, enjoying the comfort of the Ravenclaw tower all throughout his stay at Hogwarts, but ever since then, ever since engaging with the Order’s cause, he might’ve forgotten himself even more. He used to write a lot, unrhyming poetry and jotted down epigrams, mostly, but this, along with other, adolescent hobbies, have drifted away from him eventually. All of his relationships (most of them long-term and considered serious) died because he would withdraw and not put enough effort into the love. He cared, of course, but sometimes he’d forget, staying out for hours, nights, sometimes even entire days, without letting his partner know where he was going. He means no harm in that, he just ... forgets, too absorbed by his own pondering and quest for good.

Mediators share a sincere belief in the idea of relationships – that two people can come together and make each other better and happier than they were alone, and they will take great efforts to show support and affection in order to make this ideal a reality. [...] But Mediators aren’t necessarily in a rush to commit – they are, after all, Prospecting (P) types, and are almost always looking to either establish a new relationship or improve an existing one – they need to be sure they’ve found someone compatible.

The test says that Mediators don’t enjoy committing to relationships, mostly because they prefer the prospect of things over actually doing it. This is the point I initially disagree with, as Edgar for me always had a very loyal personality, someone who longs for someone to be at his side, someone he can come home to. But now that I think about it, I think he’s always, somewhat, one foot out the door. As though he doesn’t really believe that no matter how beautiful and important the thing is he has with that other person, it will never last. Partially because of the war (the secrets he fosters because of the Order and he knows secrets are poison to a relationship, but also because he’s been with Muggles, and the worlds are just too different, it’s too dangerous to let them come together like this), and partially because, in a way, he knows that in the end there’s no one he wants to be as close to as with Amelia. If he were to picture his future -- which he avoids, usually -- then it’s always her, old and wrinkly, by his side, and no one else.

The challenge is the many dualities that this type harbors when it comes to being sociable – Mediators crave the depth of mutual human understanding, but tire easily in social situations; they are excellent at reading into others’ feelings and motivations, but are often unwilling to provide others the same insight into themselves

I think, as long as Edgar is allowed to sit in a corner and observe at a party, he won’t feel particularly drained. It’s when he has to force himself into expression to make himself feel understood and therefore has to see himself through the eyes of others, that he wears out. I imagine that during the Inner-Circle meetings at the Order, he’s not the one to just take the word and go on about ideas, even if he has some, but listens first and then take someone aside in the five-minute-break to share his opinion. Furthermore, I wonder if his symptoms of OCD make it hard to fully relax when many people are around. In a dangerous situation this comes in incredibly handy as he notices patterns and uncommon happenstances, but when it’s a party where he’s expected to enjoy himself, it’s in the way. That’s why he smokes, to keep his hands from twitching and reaching out to fix little details, keep that calm sea facade of his. And what a luck that this is the 80s and smoking inside wasn’t a tabu yet.

Even as friendships grow stronger and deeper, and friends are lulled into a sense of mutual understanding, Mediators’ enigmatic qualities will never truly vanish.

Very important. Edgar isn’t ‘philosophical’ on purpose. To impress or appear a certain way. he couldn’t care less what his impact is on other people’s minds. There’s not a self-image with reputation he fosters, even when it seemed so in the past when he tried to please his parents by being the Good Child. He did so to keep Amelia out of trouble, and to make his parents happy, never to develop a certain opinion of others on him. This just happened as a by-product. So even when he does get to know someone, and loves sharing his thoughts with them, he won’t change. Because that’s just him, from beginning to end, always.

In the workplace: As subordinates, Mediators prefer latitude, and would much rather immerse themselves in a project, alone or with a close team, than simply be told what task to do and move on. People with the Mediator personality type aren’t looking for easy, forgettable work that pays the bills, they’re looking for meaningful work that they actually want to think about. [...] As managers, Mediators are among the least likely to seem like managers – their egalitarian attitudes lend respect to every subordinate, preferring communication as human beings than as a boss/employee opposition. People with the Mediator personality type are flexible, open-minded and give their subordinates the tools they need, be they responsible delegation or an intuitive and receptive sounding board, to get the job done. Keeping their eyes on the horizon, Mediators set goals that achieve a desirable end, and help the people working under them to make that happen.

Edgar is in the Inner-Circle of the Order, but not because he’s a Leader personality, but because he’s been around for so long that he just knows the ins and outs, because he knows the rules, because he’s undeniably trust-worthy and helpful when given the opportunity. Hence why I added the bit about a Mediator as a manager, because while, in a way, the Inner-Circle does seem to play a leading role in the order, it’s important to understand that Edgar doesn’t see himself as more important than any other member. On the contrary, he embraces every idea, no matter if it’s from someone who joined the cause centuries years ago or last month. Perhaps this is why he finds the negative opinions on the Dorcas and Co. so surprising; he firmly believes that new ideas should always be welcomed, especially if old ideas haven’t really gotten them far in the past, and therefore wonder why people are so resistant to more radical means. On the other hand, the ‘doesn’t just look for work that pays the bills’ amuses me, as Edgar does work at the Daily Prophet mostly for that. Money. He has to get around somehow. Then again, you could say he chose his column for the arts, so here again, he does love thinking about what he’s doing, putting his thoughts into his words.

All in all, I think Edgar fits the Mediator type. It is funny, however, how the Mediator sounds like quite the Hufflepuff type of personality. Naturally, we all know that Edgar’s second house would’ve been Hufflepuff, but considering how the Mediator’s weakness is ‘dislike having to deal with data’, I do wonder what the test got wrong about him (or me, as I took the test). Perhaps it is the fact that he doesn’t collect the data for the sake of data, but to translate it into the bigger picture, which is a Mediator thing to do, or perhaps it is because over the years, he’s grown more distant from just studying the world for the sake of studying it.

I’d like to retake the test in a few months, when I know Edgar a little better. Or when Edgar might’ve changed some more. After all, the events of the world don’t leave him cold, even if he’s not showing his fears and worries on the outside all the time.

#homenumcharacter #{ it's rotten work }

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