#but also every other story i have ever engaged with in my life

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for not inviting my friends friend to my wedding?

👰‍♀️

We’re all women in our mid 20s. I have this friend Fran* who I was friends with in hs lost contact and re-connected with. Fran js friend with Tisha who I was friends with middle school and some of hs and not gonna lie I ghosted her (I’ll explain later.) Fran and Tisha are super close.

I got engaged recently. And I’ve been planning a wedding. Fran likes wedding stuff and wants to watch the process with me. However she’s been inviting Tisha to our lunches without telling me Tisha is gonna be there. It’s uncomfortable because when they ask about my wedding Tisha always has something to say. “I’m thinking about a spring wedding” “the weather is awful here in the spring time” (example).

So for some info. When in school Tisha started using me as a butt a lot of jokes as the years went on. She was always trying to call me dumb, and project her insecurities on Me. (Tisha does/did have a hard life). I ended up telling Tisha some issues I was going through and later she used it to make a joke saying I was dumb for letting that sorta stuff happen to me (not super dark but still a dick move). She loved to use me as a therapist in private and love to make fun of me in public. Something snapped in me, and every time she was be rude to me I’d say something like “that’s a weird thing to say” or is look her up and down and just make a face. When she’d asked to cheat off my papers I’d tell her she wouldn’t want to cheat off my stupid answers. I was lucky I had other friends that I just hung out with to avoid her. She never asked for answers and I never expected her to.

I went to college far away, lived away for awhile and then moved back to work at a start up that has been awesome.

When I reconnected with Fran it was awesome. We mutually reached out since we both liked the same restaurants in the area.

Fran would try to get me to wanna hangout with Tisha and try to plan something and I told her that Tisha is a good person, but I don’t really need to reconnect with her. She would “respect” that until later she would ask again. I never told her the details because I still questioned if I was being too sensitive or not about Tisha. Not gonna lie I do pity Tisha and I hate the idea that someone like that ever did intimidate me. She’s just a reminder that I was ever awkward. Fran hasn’t asked me for the whole story. However I couldn’t avoid Tisha forever. Fran would throw a party and Tisha was there. And I knew she would be. And she was the same.

Tisha fran and I are all bisexual. When I’d hang out with them they’d sometimes refer to me as a lesbian or a wasted lesbian because now I’m marrying a man. I’d tell ‘em I’m uncomfortable with that since I’m bisexual. Fran respected it, Tisha would “forget”.

Tisha dropped out of college and I did for a bit. I told her I did the same and she would just tell me the career she was doing was so much harder than mine that I couldn’t understand how hard her life is. (It was a hard program, and she does have a hard life but again it’s that “I have it worse Olympics”) Tisha even made a joke that I got a job I wanted and I didn’t even needed to finish my college program for it since I got the job before I got my degree. I just said yeah I’m a quick learner.

I don’t see Tisha much, maybe 3 times a year before. So I just figured I’d roll with the punches because I love Fran she is awesome. Tisha kinda brings fran down too. They both kinda enable each other to be down in their dumps. They’re not dating but they’re like each others plus ones. I’ve been helping fran budget, opening new banking accounts and getting a credit card that’s good for her. Fran was grateful and tisha heard she said we were bowing our heads to capitalism.

Anyway ever since I got engaged fran has been brining Tisha everywhere. I had planned on telling fran privately, I don’t want it hanging out with Tisha, but also Tisha is not coming to my wedding. Before I could do that, while we were at lunch, TISHA MADE THE ASSUMPTION SHE WAS A BRIDES MAID.

I asked her why did she think that and she said we’ve been friends longer than fran and I. I said you’re not invited, we don’t talk privately, we don’t text, we don’t hang out, and you don’t like my fiancé because he’s a man. Fran was shocked and said couldn’t Tisha be her plus one and it’s uncofortable to talk about events someone isn’t invited to. I said that they both have been asking about it. The lunch ended.

Fran has been asking me to consider letting Tisha ve her plus one since dating is hard. Tisha thought the things I mentioned were objectives so now she is texting me, and said she wants to meet my fiancé to get to know him so she can go to the wedding.

I was trying to be nice by never mentioning to fran I really hate Tisha, but now they’re both upset and I regret not being mean. I feel like an asshole.

[bonebabbles]

SHOCKING: Known liker of women watches show, immediately likes all the women.

[jonnywaistcoat]

What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?

And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?

This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.

My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.

Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.

And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.

And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.

I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.

As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.

Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.

So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.

Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.

[astrobydalia]

🍂Cozy observations 🎃

Itssss fall you guys!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 It’s actually super hot still where I live but that won’t stop me from living my cozy era. Anyways, I want to avoid collecting posts on my drafts for centuries so here’s more general observations!

work by astrobydalia

🍂Aquarius placements are simultaneously the most understanding and empathetic people ever and the biggest assholes out there. I don't know how they pull that contradiction off but it's true (I mean this in the best way possible btw)

Moreover, I’ve noticed Aquarius placements are way more appreciative of kindness and social harmony than Libra tbh. Libra's desire for harmony can be just for the sake of keeping appearances but they are actually very judgmental. Aquarius on the other hand tend to appreciate authenticity and have a “live and let live” philosophy where they accept people unconditionally that’s why they attract popularity. Underdeveloped Aquarius tho do have a tendency to break social harmony due to pick-me behavior

🍂 Cardinal moons are serial daters. I swear every person I’ve met who had a rather active love life or were always crushing on someone was more often than on Cardinal moon

Also, Cardinal moons are always very dominant people even when don’t intend to be. They have a very summoning aura/personality that just demands engagement. They also tend to be social butterflies, even when they’re introverted they always end up surrounded by people somehow

🍂 I like to think Pisces is the final movie while Virgo is all the behind the scenes and editing

🍂I've seen this endless times where people with Mars in Libra or 7th house always end up either in law or business (mostly creating their own business, freelancers, entrepreneurs, etc)

🍂Any Venusian influence on the MC/10th house/6th house indicates a career or job where you’re required to dress up and appear very put together, having a certain aesthetic can be important in your career

🍂Saturn square or opposite MC/10th house ruler indicates the native was forced into a career they never chose/wanted in the first place or they had to wait a long time to finally have the opportunity to pursue their ideal career OR the path towards the career they chose could have been harder/more unfulfilling than they expected

🍂 I also like to think Taurus stops to smell the flowers and creates a flower bed for herself. Virgo studies the flowers and learns all about photosynthesis and shit. Capricorn creates a flower business and monopolizes the flower market

🍂 Those with Mars influence on their moon (Moon-Mars aspects, Aries/Scorpio moon) are really good at throwing shade but they’re unable to take it themselves. They don’t like to feel called out.

🍂 Mars in the 12th house people will 👏🏼hold 👏🏼 grudges 👏🏼

🍂 To be quite honest with you, every single Virgo sun I’ve met had a very standoffish personality.

🍂 Saturn retrograde individuals raised themselves. That’s why this placement is known to have issues with authority and discipline because their parents didn’t really parent them at all, so they had to set their own boundaries, rules and systems to navigate life. Getting their life together and materializing their ambitions could take extra effort for them

🍂 I usually like Capricorn Moons cause I always find that they are very loyal to everyone (friends, family, partner, etc) but honestly they are not as emotionally mature as you might think. They have a really hard time moving on from the past to the point where they can stay stuck in their wounded child self and spend a big chunk of their lives trying to overcompensate this with work, productivity and success. Tendency to depression, low emotional intelligence and being emotionally stunted. Deep down they feel like the victim of their own story

🍂 Aquarius sun+Scorpio moon: I’ve met quite a few people with this combo and with all of them I’ve noticed they always have a cult leader kinda mentality towards their friendships and connections (might apply to Aquarius+Scorpio combos in general). You’re either with them or against them. If you're not a follower they’ll hit you with the "cool kids table" attitude

🍂 My mom has Mercury in the 4th house and she once said "I don't mind moving abroad but I can't live in a place where people don't speak my native language. I need to hear my native language"

🍂 When it’s said that Venus in the 1st house people know how to make themselves look good it doesn’t mean just physically. The know how to present themselves as a more virtuous person than they actually are...

🍂Mutable risings, Mars in a mutable sign/house: their motto is “work smarter not harder”. Their first instinct will always be to find a way around challenges and difficulties. They usually aren’t the most action oriented people, but they are cunning. Their way to success is basically beating the system to make things easier for themselves.

🍂I can easily recognize Taurus Sun because they always ooze BDE. Also they always tend to have very rugged and bold physique/features

🍂From what I've seen Gemini Venus is a placement that easily makes someone stereotypically extroverted. Golden retriever energy

🍂Has anyone else noticed that succedent houses (aka fixed houses) are all related to money and wealth in some way?

2nd house: your resources, what spend your money on 5th house: gamble 8th house: shared resources, investments and debt 11th house: production of wealth

🍂All Gemini and Cancer risings I’ve met had some sort of hypersensitivity to stimuli. Gemini rising is more mental; anxiety, overthinking, information overload, etc they easily get triggered by immediate stimuli, specially noise around them. For Cancer risings this manifests more in the senses (photosensitivity, very sensitive to smells, flavors, etc) and heightened intuition just like Spiderman with spider-sense

🍂I’m sorry but why are Cancer Mercuries so elusive in their communication??? Everything they say has this "well, maybe. I don't know" or "I guess" undertone to it, they never openly say what they really mean. They are good listeners tho

🍂Underdeveloped Taurus placements feel entitled to use and dispose of people to benefit themselves. Tend to be very selfish and stingy. They do something for you they'll hang it over your head forever and act like they have ownership over you. You do something for them, they owe you nothing.

🍂Pisces Moons grew up in their own little bubble. It's very likely they missed out on 'normal' mundane experiences and this makes them feel very separated from the rest of the world and the rest of the people which is why they often come off as clueless and disconnected. They often give off the impression they've been living under a rock or a parallel universe. A perfect example of this is when Kim Kardashian said she's never been to a grocery store💀

Every single Pisces moon I’ve met never ever wanted to have kids and if they do have them they tend to not be too present in their kids’ lives. The harsh truth is pisces moons are not reliable, generally they are the ones who want to be saved and cared for

🍂I've noticed earth Venus and Venus-Saturn aspects are a little bit too good at showing contempt. To some degree they always remind me of Disgust from the Inside Out movie 😂

🍂 When I see Moon-Saturn conjunction in a chart I flinch a little tbh cause idk what’s worse the fact that their mothers couldn’t be bothered to give the native any sort of emotional comfort or the fact that these natives have normalized conditional love as the only kind of love possible. I've also noticed they grew up with strong authoritarian values and were never allowed to question hierarchies or status

Also, natives with Moon-Saturn conjunction are extremely shady people if you ask me. It's true they are insanely observant but what people don't seem to notice is that they are observant in a Joe Goldberg or Light Yagami kind of way without the murder They do be having inner monologues like that. They come across as calm, intelligent, respectful and trusted. Can use emotional expression (theirs and others') in strategic ways to influence others. Big tendency towards materialistic, utilitarian and/or elitist mindset too. I can't quite put my finger on it but I've met a lot of people with this aspect and the deeper I dig the more I keep feeling something very dark and/or disingenuous about them

🍂Venus square Neptune people and their lack of self-respect… 🙁

🍂Aquarius Moons always give off the impression of having a rather lazy or passive personality. I'm not talking about their productivity but the fact that they seem to always have a "meh" attitude towards everything to the point where they can feel a bit disconnected similar to pisces moon

🍂Virgo risings often have freelance jobs due to Aquarius ruling their 6th house

🍂People with Industria rx (389) may actually dislike their work environment even if they like their job. I’ve noticed they often find the industry they work in to be toxic, depleting or too demanding

🍂Enterprise rx (9777) might always feel unsatisfied with their position, they might be the type to always want more and more

🍂 Aries Moon women and always attracting very immature and selfish men omg I've seen this time and time again

🍂 Scorpio moon/Moon 8th house is an underrated wealth indicator imo. I've noticed they always have a "from rags to riches" kinda life story. They however often face issues with fraud or debt along the way cause they have a tendency to take huge financial risks

🍂 you ever heard about the crabs in a bucket phenomenon? Well Ive actually observed underdeveloped 4th house placements do tend to have this kind of clingy and envious behavior particularly towards people that are really close to them. You can also experience this with people you have 4th house Synastry with; you get too attached to the comfort zone they provide to the point where they stifle your growth

🍂Pisces placements 🤝 falling for people who are bluntly abusive, controlling and narcissistic. They want to believe they’re living a beauty and the beast love story when in reality they’re trauma bonding

🍂Libra/Taurus Mars people ARE problematic and petty as fuck, they’re just good at the social game and making it look like they didn't do anything. Underdeveloped Venus energy is the opposite of peaceful, it gives major mean girl vibes and Mars being debilitated in these signs easily brings out this hostile side of Venus. The type to passively instigate drama just to make themselves look better. Very hypocritical

🍂What natives with Saturn in Taurus will consider first when choosing a career is make sure that it is well payed and gives them financial status. Other factors come second

🍂Fixed+cardinal combo in the luminaries is hands down the best sun-moon combo I've seen tbh (specially fixed sun+cardinal moon), they're a force to be reckoned with. Very charismatic, outspoken and confident people with healthy ego if developed. Most people I've met with this combo were very extroverted and/or excellent leaders

🍂Sagittarius placements 🤝 this pose 😜✌🏼

🍂Libra/7th house Lilith have a tendency to judge a book by its cover all the time

🍂I've noticed Pisces MC/10th house natives aren't very ambitious. They seem to not really care about things like self-development or being on top. From what I've seen they mostly aspire to have a pleasant and glamurous life that frees them form real life mundane worries and could desire to retire as early as possible. In some cases I've seen they could want a "princess" kinda lifestyle where they literally have no responsibilities. They want a career that liberates them from any pressure of achieving material expectations and allows them to just go brain dead all the time following a higher power/inspiration/knowledge. That's why many artists have this placements and I've also seen cases of Pisces MC people who wanted to be nuns and nurses. I've noticed that when they genuinely don't care about recieving recognition or achievements but rather do things bc it aligns with their soul that's when they become successful

🍂Scorpio placements have a tendency to be very cynical I've noticed, specially mercury and mars

🍂Gemini/3rd house Lilith can spot lies from miles away and will not be sacred to call it out

🍂As per my observation the water sign that gets idolized the most is not Pisces but Cancer 100%. Yes Pisces does get idolized but I’ve noticed that’s actually very short-lived, people tend to switch up on them SO fast cause they project a deeply unrealistic image on them and eventually fall off the pedestal. Cancer placements on the other hand are not infantized like Pisces, they are consistently very sought after people I’ve observed. They always come across as emotionally reliable even when they’re not, people always go soft for them while simultaneously respecting them so they’re always seen as perfect,kind,charming,etc. Their personality naturally portrays an energy of unconditional love and understanding so people easily get obsessed and addicted to them

🍂I always find that Pisces Venus natives have a very whimsical and juvenile personality. They also have a very extravagant taste they may like anything with bright colors, glittery shiny stuff, squishy toys, etc. they have a tendency to be a bit tacky and corny I’ve noticed

🍂Every fixed moon I've seen avoided any sort of emotional rehabilitation like the plague unless it’s strictly necessary. They believe no one can begin to understand them better than themselves and they got it all figured out already. Now this is more my opinion but I feel like they low-key underestimate the amount of healing they actually need to do cause they really struggle taking emotional accountability. They have a tendency to act like their needs and feelings justify everything so there's not much to "fix" or heal

🍂People who have at least 2 out of their big 3 in cardinal signs are often seen as the golden girl/boy

🍂Capricorn/Virgo moons will be literally the best at what they do and make it seem so effortless. If you ask them how they got so successful they'll be like "idk I guess I just practiced a lot"

🍂I’ve noticed your 8th house sign(s) represent themes that people are consistently using against you as the fastest way to tear you down, so you always end up feeling powerless here at some point. That’s why you tend to resent this energy and have toxic dynamics with people who have their planets here. This house is literally the death of you (8th from 1st), but it can also be the source of your empowerment once you claim this energy so it's best that you keep this house to yourself as much as possible. Some examples:

Gemini 8th house: using what you say against you. you could have a hard time with people believing your words, what you say is always scandalous and/or rubs people the wrong way. Gossip or information that makes you look bad. People always think you’re lying or deceiving or have ulterior motives Cancer 8th house: you could struggle with getting sympathy and emotional support from people. Others think you’re just being vulnerable and complaining for clout. Any display of emotion or care will be seen as manipulative. People trying to break or ruin your relationship with your family or closed ones Capricorn 8th house: you struggle with people respecting you, others don't take you seriously and don't see you as a valid authority. Any attempt to make yourself respected will be seen as dictatorial or elitist behavior, any desire to succeed will be seen as you being power hungry. People try to dismiss or belittle your achievements

work by astrobydalia

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before. 

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you. 

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both. 

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level. 

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all. 

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would. 

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock. 

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little. 

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him. 

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you. 

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head. 

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you. 

Has it always been that way? 

Have you always been on his mind? 

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently. 

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for. 

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all. 

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him. 

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him. 

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time. 

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it. 

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with? 

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again. 

He needs to get this out of his system. 

He needs to get you out of his system. 

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him. 

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you. 

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days. 

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life. 

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner. 

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you. 

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.” 

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.” 

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.” 

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body. 

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes. 

“Blondie,” he nods. 

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking. 

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.” 

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?” 

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement. 

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?” 

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now. 

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door. 

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time. 

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored. 

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting. 

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does. 

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner. 

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened. 

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu. 

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well. 

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks. 

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already. 

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you. 

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about. 

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.” 

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other. 

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head. 

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him. 

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands. 

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now. 

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again. 

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at. 

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering. 

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?” 

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.” 

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance. 

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks. 

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little. 

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face. 

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.” 

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’” 

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed. 

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve. 

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.” 

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face. 

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. 

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!” 

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up. 

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.” 

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.” 

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts. 

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him. 

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words. 

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is. 

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes. 

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently. 

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe. 

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes. 

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away. 

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today. 

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first. 

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. 

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time. 

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face. 

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him. 

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go. 

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers. 

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice. 

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?” 

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes. 

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.” 

He swats your hand away, snorting. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.” 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again. 

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.” 

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence. 

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips. 

“Mmmh, that’s so good.” 

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more. 

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger. 

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips. 

And this is where the real teasing begins. 

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan. 

Holy fuck. 

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger. 

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. 

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him. 

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest. 

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes. 

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good. 

He had enough of this, of all this teasing. 

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move. 

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole. 

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want. 

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up. 

So what is left for him to do? 

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen? 

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some. 

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this. 

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little. 

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly. 

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes. 

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat. 

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink. 

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles. 

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another. 

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely. 

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp. 

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face. 

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away. 

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table. 

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him. 

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other. 

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer. 

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him. 

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.” 

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.” 

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.” 

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.” 

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.” 

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.” 

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.” 

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.” 

“See ya,” he chuckles. 

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod. 

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away. 

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.” 

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall. 

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out. 

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner. 

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat. 

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. 

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself. 

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile. 

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body. 

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!” 

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?” 

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side. 

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.” 

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.” 

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.” 

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.” 

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.” 

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!” 

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more. 

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game. 

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s. 

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath. 

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is. 

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire. 

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car. 

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long. 

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you. 

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you. 

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not. 

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him. 

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts. 

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest. 

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway. 

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.” 

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet. 

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red. 

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door. 

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again. 

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind. 

Images of you… half naked. 

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips. 

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.” 

And as though that wasn’t bad enough. 

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess. 

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races. 

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks. 

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling. 

Fuck. 

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly. 

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game. 

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was. 

A game. 

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you. 

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night. 

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair. 

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. 

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock. 

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips. 

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly. 

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time. 

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him. 

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure. 

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him. 

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes. 

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing. 

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor. 

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest. 

Nothing that he could possibly do will. 

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you. 

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again. 

Yeah. Tomorrow. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

[thesinglesock]

my old How to Train your Dragon obsession suddenly re-emerging now, after I've spent years learning about Historical Viking Clothing and Crafts is great actually cause I get to apply the Fun History Knowledge to my favorite blorbos, and now I have some very specific scenarios.

in Viking culture, gift giving was a big complicated very significant thing. And one gift that was Especially Significant was that of a New Shirt. Women would propose to the guy they wanted to marry by making him a brand new linen shirt. I could go on for several pages about what that tells us about viking culture, gender roles, and also the extremely fun ways viking age stories used "gifting a shirt" as a symbol in romantic stories, but I'll restrain myself. This post is about How to Train your Dragon.

Astrid Hofferson can't sew. There's no way. Girl spent her whole life training to be a warrior, she has not had the time or patience to sit down and learn to sew (even though it involves a whole lot of stabbing things with a sharp object). I mean even her own clothes are made with minimal amounts of sewing (a needlebound tank top and some furs wrapped around her arms instead of sleeves).

Hiccup Haddock Horrendus III, on the other hand, knows how to sew. Sure he mostly works with metal and leather, but leatherwork requires sewing. I'm pretty sure I can find actual footage of him using a needle. Also his clothes are nicely sewn, and since he grew up without a mum, and his dad is a very busy man, he must have made at least parts of his outfit himself.

So my question is: how did they ever get engaged. How did that proposal go? Did Astrid suffer through learning a new skill so she could spend months of her life painstakingly stitching together the Worst Shirt Ever Made? I imagine her rage quitting after she has to undo that one seam for a fourth time, and in true Astrid fashion, just chucking it at Hiccup with full force when he walks into the room.

or! would Hiccup defy Viking Gender Norms because he gets that Astrid has no interest in sewing? and then he gets it into his head that it has to be the most elaborate shirt on the whole island cause it's for his girlfriend and he can't even remember ever seeing her in a nice shirt before? and that's a shame cause she deserves to have nice things! And he overthinks every choice along the way because what if she hates it???? But ofc it turns out really nice and she adores it.

[atanx]

James Somerton's "A Measured Response": A Measured Response

so I watched a reupload of the video because idk i like to torture myself. and i took a bunch of notes:

“I tried to be a voice for every member of the queer community, but that was a failed endeavour before it even started.”

what a strange way to say ‘I tried making it seem like I’m the only queer creator and stole from and actively harmed people in the queer community. knowingly. purposefully. and when I was called out in the past I tried to hide it.'

“I'm a cis, white, gay man. No matter how much I try to be a good spokesperson, I can never really, truly, understand the life experiences of other, far more put upon,  members of the queer community.”

so of course I stole and hid work from the people I can't understand, gutting it of their personal experiences and refused to redirect my audience to those people so that they can enrich themselves and hear about issues pertaining them from someone who actually does understand.

“...one of the reasons I used their own words. But I should have made it clear that that was what I was doing.”

BITCH YOU STOLE. YOU GUTTED THEIR STORIES OF MEANINGFUL PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. YOU WEREN'T USING THEIR WORDS TO BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU CAN'T ENTIRELY UNDERSTAND YOU WERE MILKING THEM FOR CONTENT AND DEPRIVING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL, SOULFUL, MEANINGFUL ARTICLES AND BOOKS AND DOCUMENTARIES AND VIDEOS THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING INSTEAD.

“Being a cis white man I thought I might win over some people who otherwise wouldn't listen.”

Yeah sure. Because racist transphobes are going to be watching your badly plagiarised gay film analysis.

“I would also like to apologise to Jessie Gender, who is one of the kindest people I ever met. Through my hot-headedness, I drew her into this anger spiral.”

‘through my hotheadedness.’. shirking responsibility onto an ‘ingrained personality trait of yours’ I see.

if you are so honestly sorry for being an asshole to Jessie why don't you fucking apologise to her directly? privately? not as a way to boost your own fucking image??

he's trying to earn good will by complimenting Jessie Gender “oh he knows to compliment an awesome person we have that in common I guess he can't be so bad after all” fuck you I recognise your strategies and it's gross to drag Jessie into this like that, she spoke out against you and you are trying to imply some sort of friendship or something between you. okay I cannot UNDERSTATE the way he tries to make it seem like they are close in some way and sort of drag her onto his side that's so fucking despicable. as far as I know Jessie Gender does not have a relationship with him of any kind?

once again bringing up death threats I see. obviously death threats are shite and anyone who threatens the dude in seriousness or harasses him will not see the light of heaven as Hbomberguy said but IN AN APOLOGY YOU DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU THAT'S MANIPULATION

also blaming the police for not clarifying a situation in a timely manner - the police are a flaming pile of garbage and I hope the institution explodes but NOT SAYING ANYTHING WAS YOUR CHOICE. THE POLICE DIDN'T MAKE YOU DO SHIT THERE

the problem isn't that you tried to “create a channel where all queer people could be safe”, the problem is that 1) you are a misogynist 2) you yourself engaged in transphobic behaviour and 3) you also actively supressed queer people's voices. The problem isn't that you supposedly wanted a space for all queer people, the problem is that you tried to MONOPOLISE queer literature analysis. fuck, queer doesn't look like a word anymore I've written it too many times now

(paraphrased) “I should have been helping with making queer people's voices discoverable” this makes it seem like he just didn't do anything and not like the reality that he was actively trying to rewrite history and bury LQBTQIA+ voices under his steaming pile of garbage

also BLAMING YOUTUBE AND THE ALGORITHM FOR ‘PUSHING HIM’ because he's cis and white, like maybe they did, I certainly wouldn't be surprised, but that is not why other creators suffered, a large part of that can be attributed to James Somerton stealing their work without any acknowledgement whatsoever apart maybe if they are lucky, a “based on” in the credits or their name flashing on screen for half a second.

“I should have done more to share the voices of other queer people” THAT IMPLIES YOU DID SOMETHING. YOU WERE ACTIVELY WORKING AGAINST THAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT-

“it was just my dweam to be a youtubew and when my videos gained twaction i felt pwessuwed to make mowe vewy quickly and that's why they wewe so shit uwu” fuck off you weren't pressured into shit you just wanted to make money and that's why you were a content mill

“early on I thought that crediting authors in the opening credits alone was enough” what about the times YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT??? YOU'RE MAKING THIS SEEM LIKE THE DRAMA IS ABOUT YOU CREDITING PEOPLE WRONG WHEN ITS ABOUT YOUR SYSTEMATIC THEFT AND OPPRESSION OF THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE VIDEOS FOR AND ABOUT AND THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE A SAFE SPACE FOR. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WATCHES YOUR VIDEOS?? WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU CAN'T JUST PLAY IT DOWN

not him using Hbomberguy's example of the DEEP CUTS: SOCIETY AND QUEER HORROR video and claiming he credited all people in the opening scene when Hbomberguy highlighted he DIDNT EVEN CREDIT MOST OF THEM FUCK OFF ARE YOU DELUSIONAL HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

I think I'm going insane this all seems so blatantly fake. he brings up the evil queens video and how he asked Sean Griffin, retroactively, permission to include his work in the video. and he shows a ‘screenshot’ of an email Griffin allegedly wrote to thank him for putting him in the title-card and that he thinks it is ‘a very thoughtful video’. only the text of the email header, such as Griffin's name, the RE:, and the To: is a lot smaller than the ‘text’ in the email, which leads me to believe that the below text is edited in some way. And with how hard James is trying to rewrite history, it wouldn't surprise me if he literally rewrote the email or cut things out to present himself in a more positive light. obviously I can't prove that the email is fake but I'll just say that I think the likelihood is very high that it is.

the way he says this also implies that he asked for permission after he made the video but hadn't published it yet. which is also blatantly false.

again trying to waltz off responsibility on nick, saying he was much more interested in production and implying that nick did all the writing .

“nick and I had both grown up poor so when I lost my job in 2021 (approx.) we of course were desperate and turned to producing videos even quicker and plagiarising the fuck out of all of them! but we can't help it we were both poor as kids!” fuck off, you weren't poor when plagiarising every-fucking-thing, this was in “the second year of COVID”. obviously if they really did grow up poor that sucks, and that's why we should eat the rich and redistribute their money. not plagiarise people who partly are poor or not financially cushy and manipulate thousands of people into believing you are the only queer creator.

also milking his mom's cancer. if you were really that worried about your financial situation, one would think that you would get an actual job for security and not put everything into your youtube career that is unstable, especially considering you've already done a lot of plagiarism and have no intention of stopping. “oh I plagiarised because my mom had cancer QAQ” that is so digusting to use a person's medical condition like that.

“i have memory issues because of a head injury i suffered as a child and that's why I plagiarise badly. see, I copy pasted the text with the intention to rephrase it later but forgot.” that would still be fucking plagiarism if he'd done that, also, if he's so aware of his memory issues and how they lead to him plagiarising, why didn't he try to work around that? leave himself notes? or tell nick to remind him to integrate actual proper credit and citations before uploading a video? mark the plagiarised stuff in the document with like highlighter or so when you're pasting it in?? oh but he didn't do all of that because he has ADHD. now, ADHD can be debilitating, but he says it's recently diagnosed so it must not have caused a lot of problems for him so far, so it's probably not severe and even if it is, it doesn't excuse him not crediting people properly. stop fucking hiding behind things ‘you can’t change' because if you truly can't you probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

“my mom really wanted me to make a movie with her life insurance but that wasn't paid out so I decided to crowdfund it. i planned to underpay the actors so hard it was under union wages. we got more money than we were expecting and upgraded to wanting to film a feature (final girl) but i didn't want to start working on it until the campaign was over for some reason that totally isn't me just wanting to exploit people for money!”

I'm not gonna go into the Telos stuff but he tries to explain it by claiming it was very unorganised and that's why they constantly ran into issues and that's why nothing ever got done and they were JUST about to start doing stuff when the Hbomberguy video released. You know what, I can believe it, although I am very doubtful considering all James ever does is lie. Idk. 

once again trying to excuse his plagiarism with needing to pay two rents and thus needing to make more videos for more sponsors and not having the time to not plagiarise like please. i don't believe that they were in that dire need of money and if they were - just get a fucking stable job and put youtube on the backburner. 

also once again trying to make it all about him by once again talking about his suicide attempt and death threats. like. no one should suffer through that kind of mental anguish but honestly I cannot bring myself to feel sympathy for this man. and i see this as an attempt to gather pity points.

“nick worked very hard on these videos other three years and it's unfair to [them] (james says that they're non-binary but doesn't indicate their pronouns anywhere? and in the beginning he uses they/them but later only he/him so idk what their pronouns are but it seems like they/them is at least part of their pronouns so i'm just going to use that) that they all got taken down” well y'all shouldn't have fucking plagiarised then. let this be a lesson maybe and don't fucking show your face on youtube again!

he is fucking relaunching his channel. like james. this isn't something you come back from. no one will ever be able to trust you ever again and you don't deserve an audience. he claims all the revenue will go to Hbomberguy's fund but we have no way to verify this. we have no way to know just how much he makes and how much of that is actually going to the fund. i don't trust him with any money. which is why i watched a reupload rather than the original. he's also releasing a new video he claims is entirely by him. like?????? don't???????

he also might not relaunch his existing patreon but he's still making a new one.

he claims he will “work his ass off” to make non-plagiarised videos. like that isn't “working your ass off” that's the bare fucking minimum. I really want to trust him. and I want to believe he'll actually try to do better. and maybe he will. and i believe in second chances, even for someone as despicable as him. but throughout this video he has continuously tried to play down what he did. tried to make excuses for everything. and that's why i am not going to give him a second chance. if he can't even admit what he did i don't trust him to not do it again. and i also just plainly don't want to endorse a person making such arguments.

also, he plugs his fucking new patreon right after this.

“this video is not about me promoting myself. it's about me apologising.” the only fucking person you actually ‘apologised’ to is Jessie Gender. 

James Somerton: makes a billion fucking excuses. Also James Somerton: “These are not excuses. There is no excuse for what I did.”

this entire video was just a publicity stunt. he tries to humanise himself and repair his image. this is just a tool to be able to continue on and continue making money.

he also still claims the disney video was based on the Celluloid Closet and he credited the author and ignores that this wasn't the only author he fucking plagiarised in that video. he is trying to reduce his plagiarsm to incorrect crediting and mistakes and that is disgusting.

the least he could have done was mention by name out loud every author he plagiarised and what work he plagiarised. not just say “uuuh i'm sorry to everyone I plagiarised QAQ”

[thepunkmuppet]

apologies if someone has already made this type of post, because I’ve had the tag blocked for a couple days as I’ve only just been able to watch the stream, but here is all the new hatchetfield lore we learned in the hatchetfield halloween party livestream (sorry if I forgot something):

greenpeace girl’s name is harmony jones

in 2005, wilbur cross murdered douglas keane senior (duke’s dad), who was the sheriff of hatchetfield at the time. we have no idea why or how.

pamela foster refused to go to the hospital when giving birth, and hannah almost died in childbirth. lex psychically felt her dying, and activated her powers for the first time, reaching through the black and white and teleporting her outside the womb. by saving hannah, she apparently saved the entire universe

ted has died the most times out of any hatchetfield character but we all knew that. every time the world ends, he dies twice (main ted and homeless guy).

doctor laszlo, the doctor who sewed hannah’s finger back on in yellow jacket, is a mad scientist who claims to have “conquered death” and will feature in the possible NMT3 story “Frankenruth”.

bill has a literal soulmate, though we don’t know who it is (sylvia?? his ex-wife?? TED?? no idea)

in at least one timeline, becky and tom are engaged and have a baby called marie <3

hidgens is either haunted by the ghosts of the workin boys, haunted by evil creatures pretending to be the workin boys, or insane and hallucinating ghosts of the workin boys. they seem to be led by chad, who is confirmed to NOT be pokey in the workin boys short film, chad was genuinely just a guy hidgens liked, but it is unclear whether or not the chad the ghosts talk about is the real chad or something else.

tim houston has a crush on the “mature and totally cool” grace chasity

duke is getting married to someone else and my life is over and nothing will ever be okay again 👍

I will also transcribe the episode descriptions for the possible NMT3 episodes and other projects and post that in a bit :)

[chrollohearttags]

With AOTs last episode… Imagine if rumors spread that musician!Eren and Mikasa had something going on in the past. Then reader gets wind of it and they breakup!! I couldn’t imagine what was going through Eren’s head when the media hears about this shit!!!!!

ayooo! I swear, y’all are geniuses fr. I was thinking of something like this. And here I was needing a little drama (I’ll definitely have to do this as a full fic in the future but I gotta talk about thisss sksksjs!!)

content + themes: infidelity(?), angsty vibes, lots of drama, mentions of sex, alcohol mentions

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

“Let’s get into this tea, honey. Cause it’s HOT! So boom, (influencer name) this girl right here..is engaged to this man, EJ The Don. This lady here is Mikasa Ackerman, or formerly known as MikaASH. Who is also the manager for both of them. Welllll, girl. Allegedly, she was over here hunching on Mr. EJ behind Miss (y/n)’s back! Mind you, miss girl got a whole HUSBAND herself—“

“Y’all already know what we’re gonna talk about so just buckle in. I could not believe this when I heard it. So word is going around that EJ the Don, Mr. Underground God, the Living Dead Boy..whatever the fuck his name is has been cheating on his girl. And if you don’t know who she is, this is (y/n) (l/n), leader of the Pole Assassins. Gorgeous, gorgeous woman..but this asshole decided to not only fuck around on her but with their manager nonetheless!—“

it was inescapable..every other scroll through TikTok’s feed was some person with a pair of earbuds, speaking over the static wafting through the microphone as they stood before and floated in front of a green screen..pictures and articles of the story plastered behind them. What was the latest topic of discussion and juiciest gossip for the masses; a sure fire way to get themselves circulating in the algorithm was your sad reality. A reality that you wish was all made up.

two people you loved and cared for deeply betraying you in an indescribable way. The woman who’d all but given you your start in this industry. Acting as that of a sister rather than a manager as she helped you navigate fame. And the man..you loved more than life itself. Who showed you what it meant to be happy for the first time in your life. Sleeping together behind your back…you had never felt pain quite like this. There were physical pangs in your chest, your stomach in knots and all of the air feeling as if they had dissipated from your lungs. At that moment, you wanted to disappear into nothing..fade away and never be seen again. But life went on!..you had obligations, business affairs, everything you’d work so hard to achieve. Meanwhile, your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Missed calls and texts from them both, constantly sounding off back to back because lord knows if you answered, you’d only end up saying or doing something you’d regret. Much like you had hours ago when you stormed out of you and Eren’s home, bags packed with him running after you..tears in his eyes and the promise that nothing had ever happened. But there was proof. Pictures of them all over each other; Mikasa sporting her leather clad, skimpy attire she would wear on stage and him happily grabbing her hips as she bent over. It made you sick to your stomach. Physically ill even..it was too much for you to bare. Apologies, no matter how frequently and loud they were, would never absolve that hurt. The thought of them touching, kissing and doing god knows what behind your back..in your bed!

“Please (y/n)! I know what this seems like but that was from years ago. We were drunk, probably even high. Somebody took those of us, thinking they had something they could sell off to TMZ but you’ve gotta believe me when I tell you..nothing ever happened. I would never come between what you and Eren have—“

“Girl, please. Spare me the tears. If you wanna fuck him, he’s all yours. I’ll be damned if I ever compete for my spot. You got it.”

as much as you were trying to wear the brave face, you were torn apart and seeing her in full blown hysterics, trying to plead their case. But you were having none of it. As for Eren, he was in no better shape. He was devastated..heartbroken. More so than anyone could imagine. He wasn’t even going to bother heading to social media to clear his name as other accused cheaters had done so in the past. Rather, he downed the various bottles of liquor, stowed away in the studio’s cabinets. Angry and frustrated. More so importantly confused.

“Aren’t you going to go get her back, Mr. Jaeger? She can’t possibly believe that’s true. You guys would never..”

“Well she does and when she gets her mind set on something, there’s no changing it…”

how in the hell had a rumor like this started anyway?! Who was so bored as to drudge up old photos and post them, claiming that they had slept together. And most of all?….

how could he face you again..not knowing if it was true himself?

[sailoryooons]

BOONGI REQUEST THE SEQUEL !!! honeymooning with yoongi and your trip is a little too richly scheduled considering how horny you both are.... leads to fucking in some interesting places 🙈

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Your tropical honeymoon is planned down to the very minute to get the most out of your trip but it seems that Yoongi has plans of throwing off your itinerary every time his hands touch you. 

❀ Word Count: 4,355

❀ Genre: Established relationship, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Absolutely self-indulgent and gratuitous smut, literally this is the most porn without plot I have ever done, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, fucking from behind, semi-public fucking, light degredation, oral (m. and f. receiving), riding Yoongi, fucking from behind, face sitting, throat fucking, a lot of cum and spit and holes, Yoongi and reader fuck in public spaces where they cannot be seen a lot, temperature place, use of ice (please do not ever take ice from a random ice bucket and put it in your partners vagina, this is fiction and it was handy but do not do that lmao), cum swallowing and cum eating when you squint. 

❀ Published: August 9, 2023

❀ A/N: This is sort of a part two? You do not have to read the first request to read this one, they are easily read separately. Thanks for giving me an excuse to just write porn. There literally is nothing here but porn, I don’t even know if they have chemistry, but they fucking. Honestly I had to cut scenes out of this because I also imagined the infinity pool moment and so many other moments because M and I are fucking insane and ruminate on this shit, but at one point it was just… getting longer and I was RUNNING OUT OF WORDS FOR DICK AND COCK AND I HATE THE WORD DICK IN SMUT IF FEELS NOT VERY SEXY. Okay. Here is my ode to the love of my life, M. This somehow made me more insane.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Part One | Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Listen Along |

“Come on,” You murmur, lips pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead. “We have a breakfast reservation at that place we talked about.” 

A deep groan rumbles through Yoongi’s chest. It’s dark in the bedroom of your resort, the lights still off and the sliding glass door window still shuttered. Your newly wed is tangled in white sheets, face pressed against the pillow and swollen with sleep. You bite your bottom lip to hide your smile as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

It’s tropical warm in the room, your skin still heated from the sun the day before. Yoongi’s cheeks are sun-kissed blossom, bottom lip jutted out as he pouts. You think about the night before, biting that bottom lip hard as you came around him in the shower, cold water pebbling on hot skin. 

Sighing, you climb onto him, knees on either side of his waist as you sit. His chest is flushed and warm as you lean down, dress riding up your thighs as you press your forehead to the side of his head. His hair is messy, an inky halo around him as he lets out a sound again, very close to whining. 

Yoongi smells like coconut shampoo and palm breeze. It makes your stomach flip having him this close to you, flashes of the night before making your already sore thighs twitch. Ignoring your more carnal urges, you nudge him with your nose, huffing. Sliding your hands around to the back of his neck, you thread your fingers through his silky hair, holding him there. 

“Don’t you want breakfast?” you ask, hoping the promise of food will lure him from bed.

Yoongi is fully awake now. “Mhmm.” 

Yoongi frees his hands from the sheets and places them on your thighs, squeezing. His hands are warm and callused, sparking a curl of pleasure in you as he rubs them up and down your legs. It’s an innocent touch, but your thoughts turn devious. 

When Yoongi’s hands trace to the round curve of your ass to grab a handful of flesh, you let out a breathy sound and tighten your grip on his hair. He hisses in appreciation, hips twitching off the bed as you growl, “What are you doing?”

Yoongi turns his head to face you, your foreheads pressed together as he bumps your nose with his. “I don’t need to leave for breakfast,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips as he talks. His right hand gives you a playful crack on the ass, making you squeak as the sweet sting riles you up, your knees squeezing his waist. “I can eat right here.”

His hands are firm, fingers dimpling your rear end as he pulls you against his stomach and rolls your hips. Your eyes flutter shut at the barely-there friction, Yoongi lifting himself up a little to help you grind against him. 

“Yoongi.” 

The chastisement is nothing more than half of a breath, already feeling arousal curl in your stomach. Your thighs stretch painfully from the night before, a feel-good burn that makes you spread your legs a little wider to feel the pleasurable strain. 

“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Girl breakfast.”

“That’s not what that meme means.”

“Who gives a fuck. Sit on my face.”

Ignoring him is impossible. Yoongi’s hands palm your ass, pulling you forward. On unsteady knees, you shuffle up from his waist to his face, lifting the hem of your dress as you go. Yoongi hums appreciatively, slipping a hand between your legs to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, the stimulation jolting. “We have an itinerary.”

“Fuck the itinerary. You were going to go to breakfast like this?” he asks, slipping a finger under your underwear, swiping through your dripping folds. “All wet and sticky?” 

You whine, fists tightening in the fabric of your dress. He drags a curled knuckle up and down your pussy, pressing into your clit purposefully as he does, making your hips swivel a little. Yoongi laughs underneath you, mouth hot on your thighs as he leaves sloppy kisses, air cooling his spit on your skin as he goes.

There’s no escaping this. Any desire you had to go to breakfast with a view of the beach is gone as Yoongi nips at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, your legs trembling in anticipation. Yoongi is so good at this, making you bend to his will with just a few words and guiding hands. 

Yoongi’s breath is hot on your center as he peels your underwear to the side. You look down at him, pressing your dress flat to give you the perfect view. His dark eyes are focused on your cunt, his lips bubble gum pink, tongue darting out to wet them. His hair is fanned out around him, some pressed to his forehead. 

Smirking, Yoongi uses one hand to pull you forward, lowering you to his mouth. You hold your breath as he drags his tongue slowly from your leaking entrance to just below your clit before rolling licking back down, ignoring your bundle of nerves entirely. Your toes curl, immediately going white hot at the slow feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds. 

“Oh,” you sigh, eyes shutting as Yoongi hums and repeats the motion, determined to take his time. 

With one hand wrapped in your dress, you lean forward, pressing the other hand against the wall to keep you upright. You hang your head down, heady-heavy, eyes falling shut as you heave shuddering breaths.

Yoongi’s tongue is wicked, laving up and down experimentally as you shake on top of him. He hums appreciatively, pulling you down to his mouth further by your ass. A sharp moan escapes you when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. The suction makes your head spin, your skin over warm and tingling, feeling faint in the dark room.

“Shit,” you pant, listening to him make a mess of you, all wet smacks and happy hums. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees. “Girl breakfast. Or is it wife breakfast?”

You’re too busy rolling your hips gently against Yoongi’s face to shoot something smart back, lost in the rough drag of his tongue against your cunt, the buzz of his mouth when he hums. You feel the way your stomach tightens, the way that pressure in your core builds, the tensing thighs. 

The sweet, saturated sound of Yoongi’s mouth backtracks your whines, your fist pressed against the wall, knuckles popping with the force. Sweat slicks down the back of your neck and your thighs tremble as you fuck his mouth in earnest, hips flexing.

It feels hot in the room, your dress sticking to your skin, panties stretched to the side as Yoongi has his way with you. The strap of your dress falls down, abandoned as you quiver, your shoes and purse long forgotten by the door as you start to come undone.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants against your pussy, tongue prodding your throbbing hole. You squirm at the feeling, wanting more. “Breakfast is supposed to have juice too.”

Your laugh sounds hysteric, closer to a high-pitched cry than anything. Yoongi is vicious, pressing his nose to your clit as his tongue fucks your entrance, drinking you in. You’re dizzy, ears ringing as your orgasm mounts. You start to tense up, teeth clenched, fingers pressed numb against the wall.

Eyes shut, head back, balmy skin, you come hard in his mouth, Yoongi’s tongue pressed against you, not missing a drop. You feel fuzzy drunk, letting Yoongi control your hips. He moves you against his mouth, bobbing his lead as he slurps, dropping staccato mhmms as he goes. 

When you’re falling into his lap, skin sweaty and panting, Yoongi sits up, the lower half of his face shining with your slick. He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Thanks for the meal,” he teases. “I want more.”

-

A high-pitched zing whines through the air, drawing your attention to look at the fishing rod on the back of the boat. The reel spins out of control as the line runs wild, handle circling as the fish on the hooked fish runs wild with the line. 

“Yoongi,” you gasp, turning back to him. 

“Fuck the reel,” he growls, fingertips pressing into your hips hard enough throb.

The vinyl cover of the boat seat is slippery with sunscreen, sweat and a little cum. Sun heats your bare back. The burn on your shoulders is nothing to the fiery arousal spooling in your stomach as Yoongi pulls you up by the hips, dragging you along his slick cock.

It’s a calm day on the water, the only motion coming from the way you roll your hips, fucking Yoongi in earnest on the bow of the boat. Blue water glitters around you, reflecting the sun back up toward a cloudless, azure sky.

Salty wind cools the back of your neck as you throw your head back, gasping when Yoongi presses a thumb to your clit, circling slowly. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull is drowned out by the wet slap of your ass on Yoongi’s pelvis, already soaked from your first orgasm.

Your second high blazes through you hotter than the beaming sun. Yoongi growls between gritted teeth, his grip savage as he helps you fuck him. Up down, up down, up down. His chest is flushed and raked with angry red nail marks.

Fishing plans long forgotten, you continue to ride him, the feel of Yoongi’s cock stomach-deep, your walls gripping him tight as you race toward another orgasm. It feels so good, your knees slipping as the boat bobs under you, the up and down motion aiding the way you glide on his dick. 

“Just like that,” Yoongi moans, head tossed back, hair damp and sweaty. He’s worked up, a beat of sweat dripping down his tan neck, jaw flexing as he tries to stop himself from coming. “Use me just like that, baby.” 

And you do, the tip of his dick brushing your g-spot every time you slide down, working your closer and closer until you’re seated in his lap, cock pushed to the deepest parts of you while you come hard around him.

Yoongi waits for you to come down for your high, post-orgasm twitching and panting before he pins you to his chest and holds you while fucking up into you a few more times before he clenches his teeth and comes.

Hot and spent, you both melt into one another, skin sliding against skin as you lay on his chest. He softens inside of you and you become hyper aware of the slide of your mixed juices dripping from your folds and running down your leg. You don’t care, closing your eyes as you inhale deeply.

Eventually, Yoongi lifts his head to peer over your shoulder. You turn around to see that the line has broken on the road and Yoongi laughs, sounding exhausted.

“Fuck it,” he sighs, laying his head back down and tightening his hold on you. “I don’t care.”

-

“My wife is such a little slut,” Yoongi grins, leaning against the sink as you take him further into your mouth. “You love having a mouthful of cock, don’t you?”

Looking up at Yoongi with wide, teary eyes, you hum the affirmative. Dark blush creeps up his neck, his skin visible where the top button of his white shirt is undone. He looks to die for tonight, with his long, dark hair slicked back and just touching his shoulders, a white short-sleeved button up, and dark pants. 

And you? You looked nice earlier, but now your dress is messy with sand from the bathroom floor, mascara running down you face as you swallow around your husbands cock, feeling your throat tighten as you force yourself to the limits. 

You’d at least manage to pay the bill before dragging him into the palm-textured bathroom and dropping to your knees, ignoring the way stray grains of sand from the beachside restaurant burn your knees in favor of taking him into your mouth.

Yoongi slouches against the sink, his shoulders pressed into the mirror as he closes his eyes and angles his head back. You take him further into your mouth, letting spit escape the sides and run down your chin, working what you can’t fit with your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the low light and drives you mad, loving the way the diamond looks on your hand while it’s wrapped around him. 

You’re ravenous tonight, staring up at him with clenching thighs, watching the way Yoongi unravels. Pulling back, you pop off of him, strings of spit and precum connecting the brown tip of his cock to your lips. You break it, leaning forward to run your tongue along the frenulum of his cock, earning a whine from him.

Grinning, you continue your assault, dragging your tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his cock until you reach his balls, giving a teasing lick that makes his hips cant off the sink.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he warns. “I fucked you the way you asked for three times today, baby. Don’t I deserve to cum in that pretty little mouth?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pumping him with your hand as you come back up. “Want to come in my mouth?”

Yoongi’s hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers squeezing your skull. It’s not painful, but it’s firm, making you grin up at him, delighted. “Okay then,” you agree, tightening your fist on him a little more, pumping him a little fast. “Fuck my throat.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yoongi’s grip on the back of your head stays solid, a comforting feeling as you get a little dizzy from the way he looks down at you, eyes fathomless. Starving. He uses his other hand to prop himself against the sink before he drives his cock into your mouth.

The slide is rough and messy. You flatten your tongue and open up the back of your throat, the sound of you choking wetly around him drowning out the hiss of air between his teeth. You breathe through your nose, your hands gripping his thighs and digging your nails in hard into his flexing thighs.

Absently, you wonder if anyone walking by can hear the gurgle of your mouth, the stilted grunts as he flexes his hips.

Throat burning, eyes stinging and dripping tears, you let Yoongi go wild until he’s coming deep down your throat, a hot and thick mess. He pulls out gently, letting you gasp for air, mouth swollen and sticky as you pant.

Yoongi pulls you up from your knees, holding you tight as you lose your balance. His grip is crushing and he smashes his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste the mix of cum and spit, hungry for it.

When he pulls away, his lips are pink and slick and his chest is heaving.

“We’re going to miss that concert I bought tickets for,” you complain, giving him a pout.

“Fuck that concert, we’re going back to the hotel room and I’m going to fuck you for the next three hours, baby.”

-

Admittedly, hiking wasn’t the best event on your itinerary. When you’d planned the adventure originally, you hadn’t accounted for the fact that your legs would be near unusable from days of Yoongi folding you in half to drill into you, or the fact that the jungle is, in fact, hot and humid.

Yoongi walks next to you, his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack as he goes. His hair is pulled up into a bun, a few loose strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hasn’t complained once since starting the uphill trek through the trees and sifting sand, though you can tell he’s also spent from his inability to stop touching you this entire trip.

But you really want to attempt to get to a single thing on your itinerary for this trip, and the ruins will be out of the question tomorrow when it rains. So, you persist, legs wobbling as you high up the path, shirt sticking to you and scent of sunscreen following you like a coconut cloud.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Yoongi askes, looking up at the gleaming sun filtering between branches. “We haven’t seen a single person.”

“There’s steps, aren’t there?” you ask, gesturing to the path. “There’s ruins that aren’t as much of a climb that everyone prefers. Plus, it’s hot as shit. I wanted to see the good ones though.”

“Anything for you.” 

A few more minutes pass before Yoongi sees you lagging a little. The burn in your thighs is real, remembering acutely the way Yoongi had pressed them to your chest last night as he fucked you slow and deep. The memory makes you shiver, a post-orgasm twitch still haunting you an entire day later.

“Come on,” Yoongi urges. “It’s flat up here, we can step off the path and take a break.”

Yoongi finds some broken trees that have fallen sideways to sit on. You’re grateful, taking deep gulps of water. It immediately cools you down and you close your eyes, rolling your shoulders. Yoongi guzzles down water next to you, his arm pressed up against your.

After a few minutes sitting, you get up and turn to face the fallen tree, bending over at the waist to lean against it in a deep lunge, stretching your hamstrings. It’s a soothing sort of pain, the extension of muscle a relief. 

Yoongi looks at maps on his phone behind you, waiting as you you switch legs and arch your spine, feeling a few joints pop in release. It feels good and you sigh, letting the tension bleed out of you.

Hands find your ass, gentle and curious. You look over your shoulder to find Yoongi looking at you with his brows raised and head tilted. A question. You know he’ll back off immediately if you shoo him away. Instead, You burst into laughter and shake your head, “Seriously?”

“What?” 

You stare at him. He looks delicious, sweat dripping down his Adam’s apple, hair pulled back. He’s dressed simply and yet, looking at him looking at you, wanting you the way that he does makes you vibrate. It doesn’t matter how many times you have him, you always want him more. And again.

You married Yoongi for a myriad of reasons. Because he is gentle and kind, because you like the way he takes his coffee and reads the paper in the morning, because you like that he uses mint shampoo, because you like that he has to line his shoes up perfectly next to the door. 

Everything about him enchants you, and you’re over the moon to have someone who doesn’t shame you for your carnal desires, that you have someone who matches the energy, who can take it and give it to you anywhere you want. 

Yoongi is the perfect balance, always knowing when to initiate, always knowing when it's a good time.

“I know that look,” he smiles. “Now you’re thinking about it.”

“Can you be quick? I don’t want someone to stumble on us.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he promises, dropping his backpack and popping the zipper on his pants. You let out a pathetic sound at the sight, earning a smug look from Yoongi. 

Yoongi peels your legs and underwear down to your knees, just enough to get access to you but also safe enough to pull them up quickly if you need. His clothed chest presses against your back as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your middle in what seems like an innocent hug.

You gasp as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, the stretch a little painful with no prep. It doesn’t matter, though. He pushes in slowly, letting you get used to it until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around him. 

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pressing butterfly soft kisses to your cheek and temple. He starts thrusting shallowly, stealing your breath away. “You are my perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife.”

“Fuuuck,” you whisper. Yoongi isn’t fucking around, making his thrust precision perfect, pressing that soft spot inside of you. Your thighs are pressed together, making the fit even tighter, feeling him even more. “You’re just saying that cause I’m letting you fuck me against a tree.”

“Untrue, I say this all the time.”

That’s fair. Yoongi does tell you that he loves you. More often now than he used to, more verbal than his little utterances of love by readying your coffee long before you were awake in the morning or picking up the things you were missing from your pantry on the way home. 

“You’re right,” you pant, head lolling to the side as his mouth seeks the heat of your throat. “I love you too”

The tree bark bites into your hand as you take him fully. With the way your legs are pressed together and the angle that you’re standing, it feels like Yoongi is punching to the very core of you, making the world spin. You think you might collapse over the tree if he weren’t holding you up. 

“You’re just saying that cause I’m fucking you against a tree.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the fact that Yoongi picks up the pace, fucking you hard and with purpose. His hand slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it lightly, making you squeal and twitch. He laughs, choosing to circle it instead, working you faster toward an orgasm as he pounds into you, punching the breath from your lungs. 

Sex with him is different every time. You don’t know how you manage to never get tired of it, but it never feels the same. Not with him. Every time feels like you’re discovering something new, 

When you do come, you suddenly feel like you can run the rest of the way up to the ruins, energized on the endorphins alone. 

“I’ve heard of post nut clarity,” Yoongi jokes, tucking his cock back into his pants. “But never post nut energy.”

“It’s like a second wind.”

“Dickened wind.” 

You glare at him, tossing his backpack to him. “Stick to writing songs, not jokes.”

-

“You’re so fucking swollen,” Yoongi groans, thumbs peeling apart your folds. “Cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your face pressed down into the pillows of the daybed, ass up in the air with Yoongi behind you. The sound of the pool and anyone beyond the closed curtains of the banana are muted by the tropical music of the DJ. All the better to drown out the sound of your husband spitting onto your exposed heat. 

“Cause you’ve been fucking me insane all week,” you protest, body vibrating. Yoongi hums thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything, letting his spin trail slowly down your slit. You’re already wet from the way his greedy mouth sucked at your chest. “Baby, please. I want your mouth.”

“Yeah? You all hot and bothered?”

“Yes.”

“Let me cool you off.” 

Yoongi’s hands leave your ass for a moment. You’re too overheated from days in the sun and the rising tropical temperature to look at what he’s doing. You’re in a slow daze, a little buzzed from sweet drinks and Yoongi’s mouth, from sloppy kisses that taste like strawberry and Yoongi’s cute little sunburn on his ass from falling asleep after letting you drive him insane with your mouth on the private balcony the day before. 

Now, you hear the clicking of something moving around the ice bucket. Your brows furrow and you’re about to turn your head to look at what Yoongi is doing when you feel ice cold water slow drip onto your ass. 

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of the daybed and arching your spin. The water is a cool burn, a relief that drives you mad as he makes a pleased sound. “Ohhh fuck, again.”

“More?”

“Fuck yeah.”

There’s the sound of more ice and Yoongi is dripping the cold water on your ass again, making your lower spine tingle and toes curl. The cold drips move closer to your cunt until he’s directly over your clenching hole. The shock of cold against hot sends you into a frenzy. You wiggle your ass back and forth, asking for more, eager for it. 

Yoongi has never been one to deny you. This time, you feel his lips around an ice cube, dragging his cold kiss over the swells of your ass, letting the ice melt on his tongue before lapping at your pussy, tongue cold against your dripping heat. 

It drives you mad. Your fingers ache with the way you clutch the pillows, pressing your face hard into the daybed as Yoongi does this a few times, bringing his cold lips to mouth hungrily at you until it’s all he’s focused on, forgetting the ice in favor of sucking greedily at your clit. 

Your spine feels like it might crack, bowed dangerously as you press back into his face. He moans at your eagerness, tongue twisting between your folds as eats you out in earnest. If it weren’t for the privacy curtains and the DJ booth, you’d never get away with this. Yoongi is not quiet, smacking his lips like a glutton. 

Air escapes you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm bears down on you. Your face is pressed so far in the cushions that you don’t think you can breathe, your lungs contracting and your chest squeezing as you come on his tongue without warning, a silent scream raging through you.

Stars burst behind your eyes. Yoongi takes it in stride, licking you long and slow as you remain rigid for the duration of your high. When it finally begins to subside, you fall to the side, sprawling boneless and feeling drunk.

“Holy shit,” you croak, voice gone. “You were right. Fuck the itinerary. This is so much better.”

[ladytabletop]

Lady Tabletop's Primer for Getting into Tabletop Roleplaying Game Design Philosophy

Sam Dunnewold over at the Dice Exploder podcast has posed a fun question to his discord server: where would you tell people to start if they wanted to know more about TTRPGs and design?

First and foremost, I'd tell people to start with @jdragsky's article about Systems of Relation.

With the benefit of hindsight, I can now understand that the games we played on the playground were identical in nature to the tabletop RPGs I would grow up to play and help design.

Next, check out Thomas Manuel's analysis of the Axes of Game Design over on the Indie RPG Newsletter.

So the basic exercise is trying to figure out the standard axes or spectrums on which every game can fit. The idea is for these axes to be as descriptive and objective as possible.

Thirdly (and lastly for the purposes of this blog - it's entry-level, not comprehensive), check out this reddit thread about lonely fun.

The Lonely Fun is all of the stuff you do as a part of your hobby away from the table, in any way you might engage. For D&D 5e players, this is usually building complicated and elaborate characters on the page, pouring over the books for new races and subclasses, figuring out fun new combinations, and carefully crafting characters.

Read those? Now check out BALIKBAYAN: Returning Home by @temporalhiccup

Will we be able to outrun our Masters and those who hunt us down? Can we use our magic to bring about the rebirth of the city and all Elementals? ill this be our RECKONING or our HOMECOMING? That’s what we play to find out.

Why I make these particular recommendations below the cut.

All of these recommendations are hopefully all entry-level. I tried to stay away from any essays, blogs, or articles that reference game movements you may not have heard of or that require tons of reading before you can even read my recommendations. Some do have links to other stuff, and if you're enjoying the writing, definitely go down those rabbit holes! These are a tiny, tiny portion of my "TTRPG Homework" folder where I save essays, podcasts, etc that have helped me in my own game design journey. I'm always happy to share more, just ask!

The essay on Systems of Relation put into words something I had been thinking about the more I got into indie games/design: I've been playing my whole life, and ttrpgs are just another piece of that. I think it's crucial to break out of the framework of people trying to define play and games into neat little categories. Will I ever write a game as good as the ones I played in the backyard with my siblings? Probably not, but I'd like to find out.

Now that I've told you to stop trying to categorize games, we have an article about trying to categorize games. But I do like Thomas's assessment and examples of using game design axes. I think as designers it's important to figure out the things the game is trying to do and communicate, so that we can make sure it does those things well.

Lastly, I know 5e gets a bad rap (and it's gotten it from me, too!). But the concept of lonely fun has stuck in my craw since I first saw this thread. It's why some people prefer to GM (and therefore why GM-less games might not work for some people). Not all games are going to have lonely fun, but the ones that do are still going to appeal to people! This thread was key for me in terms of considering that no game is for everyone, and it shouldn't try to be, and also helped contextualize the enjoyment I get from the occasional high-prep game.

Balikbayan as a recommendation was a no-brainer for me. I'm not going to say it's the most elegant or tight of Rae's work, but it's the one with the most heart for me. The story this game wants you to tell is so clear, and as an introduction to "Belonging Outside Belonging" as a system/concept/design philosophy. This game really sings in its character concepts and emotional play.

If you've read this far, congratulations! I've been enjoying the DE podcast (even when I don't agree with some of the takes) and the discord has been a cool (if at times intimidating) place to hang out. I've had a hell of a game design journey this year and I'm so excited to keep learning, and to see what media other folks participating in this blog carnival recommend!

To sign off: my best advice to designers, especially those starting out can be boiled down to three things:

When in doubt, simplify or make it silly

The two cakes theory is your best friend - game design is not a competition

Not everything has to be finished. Not every part of the creative process is fun. Find the balance between these two truths (you're going to have to do that every day).

Best,

LT

[comicaurora]

In your asks and other outside-of-comic statements, you seem to draw on parallels to programming a lot when talking about lacrimas.

And this makes me think as a programmer: the primordial rules that are used in Auroras to do magic and lacrimas are part of the primordial language. You are literally telling the primordial's dead bodies what to do, and they obey.

Yet, the difference that comes to my mind is that Primordial was at one point a language actually spoken. Used to communicate in day-to-day life by normal sentient beings. That's quite different from programming languages, which aren't meant to be talked in at all, and are built from the ground up purely to convey a series of precise instructions. They're very formalised and structured. There are no synonyms, no double meanings, no altering of word order, no redundant information etc. It's extremely rigid, much unlike languages people actually talk in, for which a degree of fluidity and ambiguity is essential.

And in Aurora it would seem the latter is being used as the former.

Have you ever thought about this tension/contradiction/conflict? How it affects the world, how it affects your writing, etc?

Or has this distinction never crossed your mind?

Or was this something you have noticed, but never really had the right knowledge to engage with much?

Or any other thoughts on the subject, really

So! This is an interesting thing I have actually thought about.

When the Elder Races were first created, they were born knowing and speaking a language innovatively called the First Language. Every new Young Race is also initially created speaking this language. The language then drifts over the generations, developing into regional dialects and then into separate linguistic descendants if given enough time.

The Ancients spoke a close descendent of the First Language for most of their time in existence, and made a writing system of their own very early on, which has no innate power. But in the early days of the world, the generally accepted story is that a god granted the three elder races knowledge of the written Runic language, which could command the elements. The Ancients acquired it late and used it very sparingly, only for the programming of lacrimas, but for the Elves and Humans living in the depths of the Caves, this was their first and primary writing system. It's even possible that a rare cave-dweller brave enough to venture to the surface was the one who taught the Ancients these runes in the first place.

It's posed an obvious question, of course. Why does this one specific form of writing manifest as a language of magic? Why can it command the dead Primordials? Why is it so well-suited to the phonemes of the First Language that every child of this world is created speaking?

The predominant theory - and, with two living primordials to check with, one which is potentially on the cusp of being proven - is that the First Language and its runic writing system are the language that the Primordials spoke. Its words, written or spoken, can be understood by the remnants of thought that still linger in the sleeping, dead-but-not-entirely-gone primordials that make up the world.

Primordial magic is different from programming in one key way: real computers are entirely unthinking entities. They are not in any way smart - not even smart enough to be stupid. A computer parsing a program cannot observe a missing parentheses and compensate like a human could do in their sleep - it simply fails to parse, because the mathematics don't work out.

Magic in this world is like what every programmer wishes programming could be. Tell the computer what to do, and it might be a little confused, but it'll get the gist. Tell Fire to burn in this direction - Fire, even if it's just running on an echo of a seven-thousand-year-old memory, knows what that means. Tell the wind to printf this statement to this recipient, it'll try to find them and send the message. Tell Life to make this body do what it's doing faster, it can do that. It's simple executions of simple commands, almost reflexive - things that require no complex higher thought from a being that is no longer alive enough to have them. They're not as unthinking as computers, and that means the nuances of language can actually have an effect on them. Some mages think more poetic and emotionally-charged spell invocations can lead to better, more efficient results - an appeal to a long-dead emotion might be easier for the Primordial to execute than an appeal to a half-forgotten complex thought.

When a mage takes direct control of a magical energy and funnels it into an elemental effect, their own higher thought allows the element to do more complicated things - Fire can't transmute on its own like it could when it was alive, but it can when bent to a mortal will. No need to translate a spell into the language of magic when the mage can simply use their own mind to shape the effect. This is the primary advantage mages have over lacrima-users - flexibility, complexity, and speed.

Another interesting factor. Alinua's dynamic with Life demonstrates what a living Primordial's living thought can do when in the hands of a mortal. A normal, simple healing spell cast by anybody but her just accelerates a body's own healing, but with Alinua's guidance steadying Life's hand, they can do much more complicated things of her own free will - things Life knows how to do that no mage knows how to command her to do.

[mrghostrat]

hey happy trans day of visibility. i'll get visible why not

i'm nonbinary, specifically genderfluid. i identify with this label because idk, even though i look back at my childhood and spot signs of dysphoria and gender fuckery, i don't feel like i was ever masquerading as something i wasn't. i'm just different now. and i may be different again in the future. i was a little girl then, and i'm a little bilv now.

i'm AFAB and just passed my 2 year T anniversary. i'm loving it, and just like putting together a pinterest board of hair and fashion styles to figure out how i wanted to present my truest self, starting T to change my voice and body and facial hair was just another step in that. i love how i look now and love all the changes T has brought me.

at this point i plan to remain on T indefinitely, but knowing a friend who took T for four years then stopped because she got to where she wanted to be, i feel safe and comfortable enough to stop if i ever change my mind. this is why visibility is important 💕

i don't plan on having any surgery at this point. i thought about top surgery for a while, but considering my fluidity and how much i've enjoyed tits in the past, i think i want to keep them in case i ever want to focus on them again in the future. this is the only thing i "struggle" with; how much i would like to have a flat flat chest right now, but know i may not want that in future, and surgery is so definite. thankfully i'm happy with binders and am small enough to live in a comfy middle ground.

i'm so grateful for all the trans art in the good omens fandom, especially @chernozemm's explicit illustrations that highlight how fun and sexy tcocks are. i did look into phalloplasties and matoidioplasties once before, but never felt as strongly about it either way, which didn't seem like a good basis for such an intensive surgery. now i'm less ambivalent about my genitals and actively love them

(i also suffered from vaginismus my entire life, until about 2 or 3 years ago when i started engaging with more nsfw content and must have just? exposure therapy'd myself out of it?? it feels like i didn't do anything at all and it just went away on its own, which made me personify my vag a bit, bc i'm so fucking proud of her. now we're finally getting along, i'm taking her to my grave)

keep drawing, keep writing, keep sharing. every little thing you put out there helps people like me love ourselves more, and hearing other trans stories only helps solidify how real and genuine we are for feeling the way we do about ourselves. happy tdov

[eldritch-thrumming]

i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.

kiss me once ‘cause you know i had a long night, kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be all right, three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

Steve’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He’s technically not supposed to have it on the floor, but it’s 9:30 on a Wednesday night and the store’s dead anyway.

Eddie 🎸👎: date’s a dud engage emergency protocol immediately 🚨🚨🚨

Steve rolls his eyes and clicks the little phone icon near Eddie’s name.

“Hello?” Eddie manages to sound both confused and concerned.

“Help, help,” Steve deadpans, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I’m having an emergency that only you can help me with.” Steve’s done this enough times in the three years they’ve lived together to know that Eddie can think up his own lie to tell his date.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right there, Steve.”

Steve’s not sure how Eddie manages to make it sound so convincing every time, but it’s enough that even Steve might start to believe it if he wasn’t the one calling.

Eddie hangs up without saying goodbye, probably to tell his date some exaggerated story about how Steve’s fallen in the shower or fell off a ladder. Somehow, all Eddie’s emergency scenarios involve Steve hurting himself in increasingly embarrassing ways.

By the time Steve’s got the store tidied and closed and walked the four blocks to their apartment, Robin and Eddie are already on the couch in the living room. Steve can hear them bickering over what to watch from the front hallway as he slips off his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. He follows the sound of their voices to find them practically wrestling over the remote.

“Jesus, can’t leave you two alone for more than five minutes. You’re worse than the kids,” Steve says as he makes his way across the room and into the kitchen for a bag of chips. It wasn’t the healthiest dinner, but he was too exhausted to cook.

“There’s leftovers from the diner in the fridge,” Eddie calls out to him, not even missing a beat as he pries the remote from Robin’s white-knuckled grip.

“You took leftovers on a first date?” Robin asks him, appalled, as if it’s the most unheard of thing Eddie’s ever said.

Steve’s popping the styrofoam container into their tiny microwave as Eddie tells her, “It was a second date for your information.” He puts on an episode of Ghost Adventures without asking anyone’s input.

“Wow, someone made it past your rigorous first date interview? Shocker.” Robin crosses her arms and huffs in annoyance, because she was also going to put on Ghost Adventures but it’s the principle of the thing. You just don’t take a woman’s remote from her, under any circumstance.

“Hey, it’s imperative for me to suss out a potential partner’s commitment to the music gods,” Eddie says.

“‘Potential partners’?” Robin scoffs. “I thought you said you were in your slut era?”

“Well,” Eddie seems to lose his footing here. “I am. But I can’t be fucking anyone who listens to Tame Impala.”

“Steve listens to Tame Impala.”

Steve has made it back into the living room in time to see the blush rise on Eddie’s cheeks.

“Good thing I’m not fucking Steve then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, good thing.” Even Steve can hear the eye roll in Robin’s voice.

Because the thing was…

Okay, so the thing is…

The long and short of it is that they’re not fucking.

But they’re also, like. Not not fucking.

It’s just that sometimes, after a horrible date or a stressful day or even just when they’re feeling incredibly horny, the apartment can feel kind of lonely, even with two roommates. So. They… do stuff. Together. No penetration, but. Yeah. Enough for it to be called ‘fucking,’ probably. At least Steve thinks so.

But they haven’t told Robin. They’re both pretty sure she suspects. She’s not a fucking idiot and Steve thinks someone living under the same roof as Steve and Eddie would have to be in order to be that oblivious. Steve’s pretty sure she’s been trying to get one or the other of them to confess, but they’ve held strong so far. It’s not that they were hiding it, exactly. It was just that, whenever this thing inevitably came to an end or imploded on them both, they didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone. At least that was what Steve was thinking, because it’s not like they actually talk about it.

Neither of them say anything else, so Steve makes an attempt to change the subject.

“So what did you tell your date this time?” He asks Eddie before shoveling a forkful of reheated pasta into his own mouth.

Eddie smirks. “I told him you cut off the tip of your finger with your crafting scissors while you were scrapbooking and then passed out from the sight of the blood and hit your head on the corner of the coffee table.”

Steve pauses with his fork halfway between the takeout container and his mouth.

“I thought these emergencies were supposed to be believable.”

“I’ve literally walked in on you scrapbooking multiple times, Stevie,” Eddie says it like he’s stating the obvious.

“I could never cut through my fingers with my crafting scissors.”

“Oh, that’s what you take issue with about that lame-ass scenario?” Robin scoffs again.

“There’s nothing wrong with scrapbooking,” Steve says defensively.

“Didn’t say there was,” Robin mutters, turning her attention back to the TV. “Can you guys shut up now? I’m trying to watch my stories.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shares a look with Eddie before doing as Robin says and shutting the fuck up. He drops down into the lone armchair to finish his leftover diner food, attention fixed on the television. He thinks he can feel it every time Eddie’s eyes dart over to look at him.

~*~

Later, after Eddie’s snuck into his bed around one a.m. and they’re laying there next to each other in the afterglow, Steve asks, “So the date really sucked?”

Eddie sighs. “I mean, he was nice and all, but there just wasn’t any, like… chemistry or whatever. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Steve responds, his voice low. Steve hadn’t been on a date in months, hadn’t felt the usual impulse to flirt with strangers incessantly. Robin kept saying he was in a lull or a slump or something, but Steve does start to feel lonely sometimes, especially when Robin is out with her girlfriend and Eddie has a date and he’s left to his own devices in their shared apartment. Even though, more often than not lately, Eddie’s dates almost always end in “emergency protocol” and the two of them wind up tangled in Steve’s sheets. Steve can’t help but think that it’s only a matter of time before all of this comes to an end, before Eddie finds someone who’s perfect for him.

Someone who isn’t Steve.

~*~

Three days later, Steve and Eddie wake up to the blaring honk of Steve’s alarm, wrapped around each other. Steve can’t help but notice the way Eddie looks when he’s just woken up, soft and rumpled, hair a tangled mess on top of his head.

“Ugh, make it stop,” Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Steve slams his hand down on his alarm clock and flops back onto his pillows, even though he really should be getting up for work. He wraps a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck before dropping a kiss to his forehead and pulling him back to lie against his chest.

“Don’t wanna get up yet,” Steve mutters, eyes falling shut again. The blankets are warm and soft and the weight of Eddie on his chest is enough to have him drifting back into sleep.

Eddie doesn’t let him though. Instead, he plants his palm on Steve’s chest and pushes himself upright, making Steve groan in dissatisfaction.

“Gotta get up, dude,” Eddie tells him, yawning and climbing out from under the covers to pull on his discarded sleep pants. “Got, like, seven engines to fix today. Something about spring, man, everyone’s car starts to break down.” Eddie pulls his t-shirt over his head before opening Steve’s door and sticking his head out, making sure the coast is clear.

Eddie leaves the door slightly open and crosses back to Steve’s bed, planting a kiss on Steve’s cheek, like he just can’t help himself.

“Won’t get off until late and then I have a date, so keep your phone at the ready,” Eddie smiles when he says it and Steve wants to trace his dimples with his tongue.

“Coming home first?”

“Nah, just gonna shower at the gym next door,” Eddie stretches. “See ya later, Stevie.” And then he’s out the door and slipping quickly into his own room down the hall.

Steve doesn’t like the way Eddie’s bedroom door sounds as it clicks shut.

~*~

Steve has the early shift at the store, so when he gets home in the late afternoon with two bags of groceries, he’s got the apartment to himself. Robin’s spending her weekend off with Vickie and Eddie’s still at work before heading off to his date.

Steve puts his groceries away, makes himself an early dinner, and then positions himself in front of the TV. He puts his phone face up on the coffee table, so he’ll see it when Eddie texts him to get out of his date.

He gets lost in the Real Housewives of Wherever for hours before he remembers he’s supposed to be keeping an eye on his phone. He taps the screen and sees there are no notifications. That’s weird. It’s already well past nine; Eddie usually texts by now for a rescue.

Steve sits back on the couch, eyes on his phone where it sits on the coffee table in front of him. He watches it for a few long moments, willing it to ring.

It doesn’t.

~*~

Hours later, Steve wakes up to the front door slamming shut. His face feels plastered to the leather of their second-hand couch. He knows it’s Eddie coming through the door because he’s the only one of them that lets it slam when it closes.

Steve reaches for his phone, still on the coffee table where he’s left it. He taps the screen and sees that it’s already after two in the morning. Eddie comes into the living room and seems surprised to see him on the couch.

“You’re still up?” He asks, eyebrows pulling together.

“You didn’t call,” Steve tries to make it sound casual, but even he hears the accusation in his own voice.

“Uh yeah. No. He was, uh. Kinda cool, actually,” Eddie smiles to himself and it looks so soft and sweet in the dim light of TV. Steve feels his chest go hollow seeing it. He swallows.

“Well,” Steve clears his throat. “That’s great.”

“Wanna hang out?” Eddie asks. Steve’s not sure if he means hang out or hang out, but either way, Steve can’t bring himself to say yes.

“Nah.” He yawns. “Early shift tomorrow.” It’s a lie, but who can blame him?

Steve gets up off the couch and crosses the room before Eddie can say anything.

“Oh, sure,” Eddie mutters as Steve brushes past him on his way into the hallway. “Goodnight, Stevie.”

Steve feels his throat constrict, like he might cry if Eddie says anything else. He clears his throat again. “‘Night,” he returns, before he shuts his bedroom door behind him.

~*~

Steve stews in it for a couple of days. He’s annoyed and grumpy and even Robin starts avoiding him after he snaps at her one too many times for no reason. He’s avoiding Eddie, but he suspects that Eddie is also avoiding him.

Which is absurd. It’s not like Steve changed the rules. He’s not the one who changed their routine. Who went on a date with someone else and enjoyed it.

That thought gives Steve pause because that’s not what this is, is it? He’s aware that he’s not very good at keeping his emotions out of his sex life. He knows he gets too attached too soon. But Eddie is his friend. You’re supposed to have emotions for your friends. You’re supposed to hate everyone they date. You’re supposed to want to spend all your time with them. Right?

Fuck. Fuck. Steve is maybe out of his depth here.

By Tuesday night, he has no choice but to go to Robin.

“I fucked up,” he says without preamble, walking into her room without knocking and flopping face first onto her unmade bed. She just watches him from where she sits at her desk in front of her laptop. Eddie has a late night band practice after work, so they’ve got the place to themselves.

“Yeah, how?” She asks.

“I… am not sure. But I feel bad.” Steve is practically whining at this point.

“Can I tell you what I think without you getting mad at me?” Robin’s tone is cautious in a way that it hardly ever is with Steve.

“When do I ever get mad?” Steve scowls at her, the side of his face smooshed into her pillow so he can see her.

“Gee, I wonder.” Robin rolls her eyes. “You’ve been testy since Saturday, babe.”

Steve huffs but it’s not like he can deny it, exactly.

“Whatever, I’m in a bad mood,” he grumbles, picking at a thread on her comforter.

“Yeah, and why do you think that is?” Robin’s question sounds decidedly pointed.

“I dunno. Full moon or something. Something’s in retrograde, probably.”

Robin sighs. “Look, I’m going to say something to you and I want you to just listen and synthesize the information, okay? Just shut up.” Steve grunts and Robin clearly takes that for assent. “I think that you’re in love with Eddie.”

She says it so matter-of-factly that Steve sits straight up on her bed so he can look at her fully. His eyes dart to her open door. “What?” He practically spits out.

Robin rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I know I’m not supposed to know about the… whatever you want to call it. But you guys aren’t exactly subtle. Or quiet.” Steve’s jaw falls open. “I know you’ve been fooling around for months. And you haven’t had to figure out your feelings for each other because you haven’t been dating at all and every date Eddie’s been on he’s sabotaged himself. And now he’s had a great date and you’re feeling threatened, obviously. You’re jealous, Steve.”

Steve just looks at her for a moment, before saying, “I actually hate you so much.” He looks back over toward her open door. “Did he say it was a great date?”

“Ugh, you’re pathetic.” Robin balls up a piece of paper and throws it at him, before turning serious. “Just tell him, Stevie. I’m pretty sure he’s into you just as much as you’re into him. You should see the way he stares at your ass when he thinks no one’s looking. It’s truly disgusting.”

Steve throws the ball of paper back at Robin, hitting her squarely in her forehead.

~*~

Steve locks himself in his room for the rest of the night, obsessing over what Robin has told him. He tosses and turns all night thinking about it. He’s vaguely aware of the door slamming as Eddie comes in from band practice around midnight and he thinks that maybe Eddie might linger just a little longer outside Steve’s door, but he doesn’t knock. Just pauses before he moves on to his own room.

Steve wakes up late the next morning. He has to rush through his morning routine and by the time he makes it to the kitchen for breakfast, both Robin and Eddie have left for the day. Luckily, Steve has a midday shift, so he has a bit of time before he has to leave for the store. He leans against the counter, spooning cereal into his mouth. As he places his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink to clean after work, his eyes get caught on the whiteboard they have hanging on the fridge.

Second date tonight, keep phone handy -E

Steve feels his heart start beating fast, almost erratically. His fingertips go numb. He licks his lips and leaves the kitchen, slipping on his shoes and jacket and leaving for work.

~*~

Steve comes home to an empty apartment. Robin has some study group and Eddie has his date. Steve can’t help but feel a little depressed as he walks through the door to nothing but quiet.

He makes himself dinner. He puts something on the television. He places his phone face-up on the coffee table, just in case.

It doesn’t light up with a notification until well after nine. It’s a phone call. From Eddie.

Steve fumbles his phone as he lunges to pick it up.

“Hey,” he says into his phone’s speaker. “Thought you had a date.”

“Yeah,” Steve can tell Eddie’s smiling, even though he can’t see him. “Was wondering if you had some kind of emergency to tell me about?”

“Um.” Steve is confused. This isn’t the normal script. He’s supposed to call Eddie. Not the other way around. “I don’t. Know? I mean. Yeah. I… need you?”

“On my way, Stevie.” And then he hangs up.

~*~

Steve’s paused the TV and is sitting on the living room couch in silence by the time he hears the door slam shut. He looks up as Eddie walks into the room.

“Hey,” Eddie greets him, voice low. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, been… busy.” Steve inwardly cringes at how he sounds, knows it’s a lame excuse, because Eddie knows him. He knows why he hasn’t seen Steve.

“Right,” Eddie smirks. “So… can we talk?”

“Sure, whatever.” Steve tries to sound casual, thinks he misses it by about a mile.

Eddie sits in the armchair instead of next to Steve on the couch. Steve tries not to take it as an insult.

“I was on a really good date tonight, Stevie,” Eddie tells him, voice soft and slow, like he’s breaking bad news to Steve. Steve’s heart clenches in chest, hard and painful. He nods, eyes on everything but Eddie. “He was cool and funny and actually had good taste in music.” Steve’s not exactly sure he really needs to hear this. “But…”

Steve feels a small flutter of hope in the pit of his stomach. “But?” He prompts, still not looking at Eddie.

“But.” Steve can tell from his tone that Eddie’s smiling again, that same smile he’d heard on the phone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About sitting here watching dumb reality shows with your arm around me. Waiting for your call even though I hadn’t texted you.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Eddie’s. He licks his lips. “What.” He doesn’t say it like a question.

“I wanted to be with you, Stevie. Always wanna be with you.” Eddie looks nervous now. He pulls at a rip in his jeans. “Do you… what do you think about that?”

“I, uh.” Steve’s mouth is suddenly dry, voice just a little hoarse. “I think it’s… good.”

“Good?” Eddie snorts. “You think it’s good? Gonna need a little more here, Steve.” Eddie still looks a little nervous, but his smile is starting to form again.

“Yeah, like. Really good.” Steve licks his lips again. “I always wanna be with you, too,” he adds softly.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and he sounds vulnerable in a way that Steve’s never really heard before. He’s fully smiling again, small and soft, like maybe he can’t believe his luck.

Steve smiles back at him. “Yeah.”

And then they don’t say anything at all. Eddie crosses the small space between them and tackles Steve back against the couch. Their lips meet, soft at first. Then Steve let’s out a moan, opens his mouth under Eddie’s and the kisses turn decidedly less soft and more horny.

~*~

The next morning, Steve’s phone dings on his bedside table. He reaches over to read the screen.

Queen Robbie✨💕: love that u guys have figured ur shit out, but can we work out a system or something? i heard u [redacted] and then [redacted] and also [redacted]

Steve smiles before dropping his phone back on his bedside table and turning over in his bed. He pulls a sleeping Eddie into his arms and drops a tiny kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie lets out a sleepy little moan. Steve could get used to waking up like this every morning.

———

An anonymous benefactor gifted me with lyrics from “Paper Rings” and here is what I’ve done with them.

Just two things: 1. I have never seen Ghost Adventures, but I imagine it would be one of the only shows both Robin and Eddie could agree on and 2. I have never listened to Tame Impala, I know nothing abt the music (beyond the fact that it’s just one guy??? see, I am hip and cool, gen z), so this is not intentional slander, I promise!!! It’s just the first thing I thought of.

Oh ETA: I also know nothing abt cars or what mechanics do, I assume they sometimes fix engines.

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons: marriage and domesticity with acotar characters ♡

↳ includes rhysand, feyre, azriel, cassian, morrigan, lucien, tamlin, and amren. unfortunately, those are the only characters i know well enough to write for but more will come in the future!

↳ fluff to the max and then more fluff. children, pregnancy, marriage, family, home dynamics.

rhysand:

-strives to have a very welcoming, comforting home. buys luxurious throw pillows from stories in velaris even though you scold him for each one he adds to his already huge collection. he just wants every surface to feel comfortable so he also buys the best mattresses and couches and will spend hours in a store picking them.

-loves to have an occasional meal cooked entirely by your family. he puts on a silly apron and dances around the kitchen, sprinkling spices willy-nilly. "accidentally" gets food on your cheek which he will happily kiss away.

-feels so proud to have his own family that loves each other unconditionally and would do anything to protect that. you and your kids are the most important thing to him and he could be a very scary person if he ever feels that you're being threatened. is much more careful in his day-to-day life because he knows that there are people who wait on him to come home.

feyre:

-if you were pregnant, feyre would be as caring as she could be. she'd wait on you hand and foot and massage anything that hurt. she'd find you the best calming and soothing lotions for your tummy. every so often, she'd lay on your tummy and tell your kid all the the great things they'll be born into.

-feyre's paintings all over the house :(( she has a little art studio which is constantly messy but you proudly hang everything she does in special little spots everywhere. she loooooves doing portraits of you and the two of you together.

-her life is already very grand so she loves nothing more than having a peaceful night indoors with you. she holds out for the weekends when you can sleep in, cuddle all day, and read together. she makes the best teas and surprises you with them on cozy sunday mornings!

azriel:

-his home is immaculate, cleaned spotless, and a little minimalist. if this isn't your style, he will gladly give you the ability to decorate the space as long as it's clean. azriel scrubbing the kitchen in bright latex gloves is not a rare sight. he just likes the comfort it brings him after the gory things he does for his job.

-he gets you the prettiest, most personalized engagement ring ever. he listens to you so closely and is so attentive that he knew exactly what you would like. he had it designed by a jeweler in velaris and it's probably engraved with something incredibly sentimental.

-he loves matching clothes in the privacy of his home! like matching silk pajama sets? yes please! listen, i've said it before and i'll say it again, azriel lives for the fancier things in life and he just wants to share that with you! he encourages you to wear the same soft and comfortable pajama pants that he is.

cassian:

-destroys the house with his kids! makes a big mess while playing with them. like pillow fights and paints and water and intense acting with toys. you continuously scold him for it and he always cleans up all nice but he can't help it! he just wants to give his kids the most fun childhood ever.

-would lose his SHIT if his kids had wings oh my god. wants to show them how to fly and take them on flights above beautiful landscapes. is probably the dad to push the kid into the water to get them used to it and this applies to flying. "it's just how illyrians learn, baby!" "he's not even a full illyrian!"

-his house is colorful and full of memories everywhere. pictures of the inner circle, of you, of the kids, anyone. keeps anything his kids make him. keeps any gift you give him. tapes notes and invitations to the fridge. he's just so sentimental like that!

morrigan:

-cried like a baby at your wedding. no matter if you walked down the aisle or if she did, she was crying instantly. rhys nudged her shoulder and cassian and azriel laughed at her afterward but you only smiled at her and helped her touch up her makeup!

-is a little hesitant to begin a family. it's more to do with her past and her family than anything else. she doesn't want to give anyone that power over her. if you are really excited about starting a family, she would certainly hear you out and if it did happen, she'd be the best mother ever.

-comes home to you with gifts every day. you keep telling her you don't need them but you gotta let her spoil you! one day it is a new ring that perfectly matches the stone in your engagement ring and that you should totally put on your right hand pointer finger because it would look best!

lucien:

-would totally thrive with a big family. like he would know everyone's interests, what they're up to, their friends, their food preferences, everything. gives them all equal attention and can wrangle them all together with expertise.

-i feel like he really loves showers and baths with you. like unless he was super stinky or unless you were gone, he would just not shower unless it was with you. he loves the intimacy and the closeness it brings!! and he loves washing your hair for you or brushing it or braiding it for you!

-one of his hobbies is mixology! i can't explain it but just imagine lucien having this home bar cart with all kinds of syrups and fancy alcohols and he cares about the dates on them and pairs the perfect wine with his meals! you can give him any three words that'll describe the drink you want and he'll mix it all up and it will taste amazing!

tamlin:

-GIRL DAD! imagine him taking her out to buy dresses for anything she needs, putting little flowers in her ear when they go on walks together, doing tea parties with her. tell me you don't see this. i dare you.

-usually gets up pretty early to go and do his high lord duties but he will come and check on you throughout the day, giving you kisses and treats and notes! he always wants to spend meals with you and will stop anything he's doing if alis tells him that you're ready to eat lunch! you've never seen a man set the table faster and pat the seat next to him.

-any room in the house that you want will be yours! if you want one of the guest bedrooms to be turned into a craft studio, done. if you want a section of the library dedicated to romance books, done! i'm serious when i say he'd give you anything you want to make sure his home is just as comfy for you as it is for him.

amren:

-values alone time just as much as she values time with you. she likes when the two of you can spend time inside doing your own thing but then can come back together at night and talk about your days! she's not ashamed to ask if she can spend the night in her bed because she's had a long day! but she's always reassuring you that it has nothing to do with you so you don't worry!

-probably isn't a very big kid enjoyer but wouldn't mind adopting someone older! or, even better, a cat! amren would spoil the hell out of a cat that you raise together. "am, i don't think she needs another sweater. she doesn't like wearing them anyway." "but this one says be paw-sitive!"

-people don't believe you when you talk about how soft and sweet amren is when you're at home! they don't think that she's capable of hugging you tight and covering you in kisses but she is! she's a private gal and you respect that entirely! but you also can't help telling mor about all of the sweet things she whispers to you as you're falling asleep.

[rosie-writings]

Breathe Me Out, Drink You In

Summary: After the wedding, you and Sam find each other alone in the dressing room and again in the bathroom of your wedding night suite.

Warnings: Sam x Reader smut, Unprotected sex, Semi public, Blowjob, Sex in bath, all the fluff during rough sex

Words: 4.5K

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘Telomeres’ by Sleep Token

Sam had the eyes that I would wake up to every morning for the rest of my life. 

I could tell; feel it. Somethings people simply know. And I knew. As ridiculous as that sounded, I knew how it sounded, it was true. 

The first time I saw him, it took my friend yanking on my arm to get me to look away. After I answered her, I looked back at him, and his eyes, ever blue and unblinking, still held my body. 

I went home with him that night, and it wasn't a secret for anyone. He kicked out his roommates who were there at that club and their sparkling eyes and jeering smiles were the last memory I had before I got that blond alone. 

He woke up first and brushed my hair and kissed me awake. I didn't leave for two days. 

I also don't remember the last time I had sex that much in two days. It was enough to almost ask my therapist if my addictions swapped up for a weekend. 

I didn't leave until his sleepy looking roommate—the one with the dark hair and leather jackets—came home not caring what he ran into or heard because he simply wanted to sleep in his own bed. I couldn't blame him. I wondered how much he ripped into Sam, after I left, for having to hear us through their shared walls. 

For such a large house, I was caught off guard that their bedrooms shared walls. 

Now it made sense. They wanted to be as close as possible to each other without actually sharing a bed at night. 

It took fourteen months for Sam to propose to me. Then he told me he spent the past seven trying to convince Colby. 

Our lives mended easily. For as big of YouTube channels they both had and shared, I was completely shocked that I didn't know who they were. They didn't know me, but I too made a living making silly videos. 

“Out of everyone, though,” Colby eventually pulled me aside at our engagement party two months ago, “I'm not surprised he chose you. I mean; you're both made for each other. In what other world would it feel right for a couple to get engaged seven months after meeting?”

Seven months after meeting. 

That was how I knew Colby knew that I was the one for his best friend; he agreed the first time Sam asked, but he didn't want to lose him. He didn't want to lose him to the possibility of being heart broken. 

It was clear as day, now, to all of us; our entire friend group. 

I was theirs, they were mine. 

And Sam and I were one. 

“Literally-Literally—no really—I told her that—” Sam broke into laughter as the music drowned his words. I smiled and tried to keep down my own laughs as much as possible from the recognition of the story he told. His arm hung around my neck with a drink in his hand. While he was distracted in conversation, I sipped from it. Tara gave me a look. “So I told her that—I was like ‘Yeah no, no we’re getting married in May, you know,’” Sam’s voice was soft as he remembered the words I listened to him tell that one Hotel manager. God, he was so awkward in that moment I was surprised his face didn’t flare pink.

”And she gave me a look and looked her up and down and tells her that she wasn’t the one girl we’ve brought there.” At that point I burst out laughing. I remembered the hotel; it wasn’t even a hotel that gave us enough substance or evidence so we fucked around during the entire video.

I still get hate for not being serious enough in that video.

”And I look at her, apparently shocked, and before I say anything she goes ‘You see a lot of things working at hotels for as long as I have-‘ I cut her off laughing and she’s just glaring at me, I go ‘Oh you mean that one blonde and brunette? That’s literally Kris and Celina our best friends from Canada.’ And I’m not joking, right at that moment, Colby’s coming back from grabbing shit and doesn’t see her and says ‘Alright babes, ready to find ghost pussy?’” Sam takes a step back, and my best friend who tood across from me burst out laughing; the friend next to her dropped her jaw.

”To be clear,” I laughed. “It was almost three am by that point, we had two energy drinks, and from our first investigation, we knew there wasn’t jack shit there so it was like moral support for us to not start breaking down sobbing.”

”Oh my god!” Our friend cried as she sucked literal tears in. “That’s why she gave us such weird looks when we checked in!” Tears actually fell by now. My best friend and a couple other girls also stayed at the hotel a week after me, Sam and Colby stayed, and they booked the same room under the boys’ names since it was in the middle of a chain of investigations we did together. It was easier for them to book all the rooms under their names, and the girls and I booked all the flights.

”Dude, there is no way I’m going back,” I sobbed. “It was too funny.”

”I’m so embarrassed,” Sam gasped through laughter. “Like what does she think—“

”I know,” my best friend cried. 

Our voices were roughened by the alcohol and the sheer decibel we had to shout over the music and other heightened conversations. We were outside; the sun set halfway behind the ocean horizon and shot orange stripes across the once blue sky. 

It was the night before our wedding.

Instead of individual bachelor/bachelorette parties, we combined our weddings parties and went out. This was a lounge we went to once before, and we talked about it for months and months after. It was a phenomenal night. Of course we chose this place for this special moment. 

Sam didn’t leave my side all night.

I tried my hardest to not look at him because if I did, I would never look away and then it would escalate into things our best friends would be traumatized seeing.

“I love you,” he said later in the night when the strand lights that encompassed the ever large pergola outside the lounge we danced under. “God, I love you so much it scares me.” I nodded. I didn’t move other than the tiny movements we made; we stopped dancing completely regardless of the loud music and other busybodies around us.

“I know,” I hummed. My arms rested around his neck. He caved towards the drag of my thumb on his skin. “Love you too, so much.” My voice fell into a whisper. 

The next time I saw him, it was at the altar. 

I told him I wanted him to wear white too because he was just as much mine as I was his. We were married in the garden of a hotel downtown; the reception inside opulent but simple and blended with the art deco chandeliers and plush green carpets. Other than the room, there really was no color in our wedding. 

Everyone wore white. My bridesmaids’ dresses were a-line slip in champagne and the groomsmen wore off white suits with minimal black accents; the only thing that separated Sam and I. We didn't wear anything other than white. 

After, when the adrenaline settled and the taste of Sam's committal kiss still on my lips, we stood upstairs. We took photos outside before we shared a flute of champagne privately. 

“Alright, reception is in 10.” I remember Colby telling us as he ushered the rest of the wedding party out. A wave of nervousness hit my stomach when he led them all out. My best friend gave me a look and I swore my face burned. 

As the door closed, Sam moved into my vision. He looked at me without saying a word. My ears rang in the silence; I figured that his did too. Then, his hand reached up and held my face. I basked in his gaze as his eyes raced all over me.

He kissed me sweetly. I hummed as I tasted the same champagne in his cool mouth, and I took him deeper and deeper until his body flushed with mine.

”Sam,” I moaned quietly. His mouth raced down my neck and my hand tangled in his hair. I pulled him back since much was on my mind.

“I haven’t been able to-to basically worship you all day. You look unbelievable, you think I’m not going to take this time to touch you?”

“Sam—“ I gasped his name when he rushed me and pinned me against the wall with a kiss. Melted into it, my hands wrapped around his neck, and he pried his hips in between my legs. ”Oh my god,” I gasped when I realized what he wanted; what we were about to do. “We have ten minutes.”

”And you haven’t been wanting me to touch you for the past two hours?” My face heated.

That was what those explicit messages he sent me while I got ready with my bridesmaids were for.

”Hurry,” I whispered, and so he did.

One of my legs was over his elbow as he finished tugging at his pants. 

“Oh my fucking god—“ His whisper rushed out fast as his fingers navigated my underwear—the lingerie I planned for him to tear off later, not now—and shoved his fingers into the warmth he created.

”No-No,” I moaned as his fingers filled me over and over. “Just get inside me.”

He didn’t fight it. Something about our precarious situation and lack of time added fire under my skin; I liked when he listened to what I demanded of him. Of course it was only in these situations. 

“Fuck me,” I whispered with a tone that was entirely too sweet for the vulgar words. “Holy shit—” He held my neck, thumb hooked under my chin, as his other hand left an imprint in my hip. 

“Yeah?” He was so quiet that I hardly heard him, and it left my legs so weak I was grateful he held me up. “I'm going to cum in you and then we're going to party with our friends at the reception and my cum is going to stay there making a mess between your legs and you're not going to clean it up, right?”

“Fuck—Yes,” I gasped so entirely quietly and meekly that I had to close my eyes. I almost passed out. With a louder moan, he leaned against me and placed kisses on my neck.

“Touch yourself-Touch yourself for me, make yourself cum with me,” he whispered in my hair. I shoved a hand in between us and made myself see stars with him. “Yeah,” he laughed when my legs gave out. He fucked into me harder to keep me up against the wall. 

“Going to,” I cried. 

“Yeah?” He teased; his voice raised in a breathy question and he stood back up again. Our noses almost touched he was so close. “Better cum so hard around me; make me cum, make me fill you.”

He was right there. 

My eyes were closed; tears burned my eyes. I wondered if one fell because his thumb wiped under my eye. 

“Know you want it, don't you? I know you want me inside you out there. I know you love thinking about my cum dripping down your legs in front of everyone. Love feeling me inside of you all the ti—”

My orgasm grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall. 

“Oh shit—” he moaned loudly as his body lurched forward into mine. God, he was right. I loved it. I also loved that my body could demand his orgasm from him at my will. 

He moaned my name as he finished our climaxes and held himself against the wall as well. 

We caught our breaths; his forehead rested on mine. 

“Come on, my love,” he gasped breathlessly. Then he kissed me slowly as he gently pulled out of me and let my leg down. I stumbled into him but did not pull away from his mouth. 

I thought about his taste as we walked hand in hand downstairs where we were announced into the reception. 

The night was a blur.

Between kisses, dances, tears, and drinks, I forgot most of the night. I knew I was happier than I ever had been, and with Sam’s hand in mine, it was enough for me. 

Until we were alone.

I remembered my arms coiled around his. I remembered leaving kisses across his face and neck. It took everything in his power to keep his hands on the wheel as my hands roamed his body.

Finally.

It was like my senses came to me the moment the door closed, and we were alone in our silent hotel suite. 

My heart raced as his hands brushed my hair over my shoulder. I looked down at the loose waves as his fingers undid my dress. Every brush of his fingers down the skin of back sent waves of chills across my skin. I swallowed tightly. When my dress was loose enough, I stepped out of it and he lightly tossed it back; draped over the chair for us to deal with later. 

Then I turned and faced him. His eyes hazed with need, and I grabbed his neck and kissed him tightly. He hummed into my mouth, and I drank in every noise he made. 

I couldn’t resist. My fingers went for the buttons of his clothes, and he sighed a breath of contentment and tipped his head back in pleasure. His hands never left my body as I unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it to my dress. Then I worked on his button up and it slipped to the floor leaving him only in his pants.

He only had an inch on me—at least—with these shoes on, and I had to admit, I liked it. But then he dove down to his knees.

“Sam,” I gasped. My hand tangled in his hair. I didn’t care that his hair was sweaty and warm, and his body even more so. We were both disgusting by now. After the long day we had of covering our bodies with our thick clothes, sweat, kisses, and arousals, of course it wasn’t perfect. Of course we weren’t clean. But what did it matter?

And that was when my heart skipped beats. 

I looked down, and Sam stared up at me darkly as his hands moved down my legs to unclamp my shoes. The image of my body standing in front of him—hardly covered in the ivory lingerie—while he kissed my skin and untied my shoes almost took both of my knees out.

When my shoes were with his a few feet away from us, he kissed up my body and paused at my thighs. He still was on his knees, and I was sure I held onto his hair so I wouldn’t fall over.

”Oh my god—“ he gasped.

To be honest, it was disgusting. I felt gross and my lingerie was nasty by now, but heat flooded my body when his fingers trailed the remnants of his cum that had slipped down my skin during the reception. 

“Sam,” I repeated his name. What other words did I know? I moaned as his tongue replaced his fingers and finally, he pulled the lace to the side. “Fuck—“ I gasped when his mouth moved up and up until it tasted my arousal. “Please.” I stumbled. “I-I can’t—“

”I know,” he sighed after he selfishly stole a few more seconds of tasting me. Then he stood up. “God, I love you.” He kissed me. “I love you, love you,” and he kissed me again. It took everything in my power to let him go.

My stomach fell from its place when he walked to the bath and ran the hot water. 

I walked over to him. My hand raced over his back. He stood up to me, kissed me. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Get in, I’ll get us drinks.”

”I-I mean, okay, but I’m still wearing—“

”Get in,” he gently doubled down. His smile fell slowly, eyes darkened. My thumb popped from the lace around my body I held onto. 

I got in. 

My hair draped over the back of the tub to keep it from getting wet for now. As the water filled, bubbles brother up around me. I have never sat in a bath with clothes on before; maybe this was just lingerie, but it felt odd. My body heated when I imagined Sam taking off the lace soaking wet lace. I watched as the water covered my body inch by inch.

When Sam came back into the bathroom, he placed the drinks down. My eyes weren’t on anything except him. He turned to me, and before he could do anything else, I rose to my knees. He sucked in a harsh breath when my fingers grabbed him by his belt.

He gasped my name and his hand brushed into my hair. Thankfully he didn’t stop me; I was pushed sick with waiting for him. I pulled his pants and underwear away—just enough for easy access—and looked up at him. He stared down at me with glossy eyes. 

I took him in my mouth without looking away from him.

But he looked away from me; eyes closed with pleasure and head tipped back. I moaned around him and he stumbled forward.

”Oh my god, baby, let me in with you.” I hummed again, and this time his fingers yanked on the roots of my hair. I gasped for air when I came off him. He tore his clothes off the rest of the way and got in with me. 

Immediately, I moved over to him and straddled him. 

I kissed him before he could do anything else. His hands raced up my slick legs and invaded the lace around my hips. Our moans mixed as I grinded down on him; his hands leading my motions. The water was already hot and the heat that ignited under my skin didn’t help.

I was long past aching for him.

I needed him more than I needed to breathe, to see.

With a shaking breath, he moved the lace to the side and I sank down on him. His head tipped back and I kissed down his neck; the vibrations of his moans against my lips made me move my hips faster and faster.

His hand linked under my jaw and our breaths mixed between open mouthed kissed.

”You feel so good,” I whispered. He smiled. “It’s kinda counterintuitive for you to put me in the bath just to make me all dirty again,” I said. 

“Then let me clean you,” he said, and I still drank down his words, his breath. He leaned over and unzipped my bag, and from the bag inside of it, he grabbed my bottle of body wash. 

He left it on the floor for a moment. He turned back to me.

I gasped when he pushed me back and I was empty again. He sat up and forced me to sit on my knees on either side of his legs. I watched as my fingertips snaked up his arms; the water once hot turned cool under my touch, and chills ran through me at the feeling of his skin under my hands.

Then I noticed the way his eyes ravaged my body. Fingers slipped under the bottom of my lingerie and he took one glance at my eyes before he unclasped the lace behind me. His lips left warmth and kisses and bites on my skin.

My breath was taken from me when the lace slipped off me completely. It hung over the side of the tub.

”Sam,” I gasped, and he moaned as he kissed down my neck and tasted every part of me. My hands tangled in his hair as his lips traveled down and down; he left red and purple bruises over the curves of my chest. I wondered if he tasted the quickened beats of my heart.

He pulled away to grab the soap. I watched as he poured some in his fingers.  

I couldn’t help it.

His hands were so incredibly soft and slippery over my skin as they washed me. He washed every part of my body, and after, his hands slipped back over my chest. 

I sank down on him again.

”Fuck,” he gasped quietly. I thrusted myself up and down, and I didn’t care if the water moved more, if it splashed where it shouldn’t.

”Oh shit,” I moaned, and my moans increased as his mouth replaced his hands. I knew my skin was bitter with soap, but he still tasted me and sucked on my skin until I was flushed. The electricity of his tongue and mouth over my nipple shot straight down in between us, and it didn’t matter we were submerged under water anymore; I was so wet he nearly slipped out of me. 

“Yeah like that, oh my god—“ he moaned when I quickened my pace.

”Need you,” I gasped. My legs were too fatigued for me to do much more; there was no traction in the tub, and I slowly lost strength.

He lifted me up. 

“Sam—“ I cried when he forced me around. My eyes met the only light in the room; the orange glow behind the mirror. 

Then my hands grabbed on the edge, and I held myself up as his hands raced down my back, my hips.

He yanked off the soaked lingerie and tossed them aimlessly. 

There wasn’t a warning; no more hesitation. I knew that I was so far past the point of foreplay and teasing, and from the force he used on me, I knew he must have been in the same position. One of my knees hung on the ledge while another was still in the water. Sam thrusted into me and grabbed onto my waist so I didn’t slip anywhere.

”Holy shit! Please, oh my god—“ My moans fell incoherent as he finally fucked me like I needed. He too gasped a string of moans, and his nails dug into the slick skin of my sides.

“God you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “Always take me so well.”

”Sam, please.”

“Please what?”

”I’ve needed you for so long.”

”You’ve had me all day,” he laughed.

”Then fuck me. I need to feel you so hard for days.” He cursed under his breath again. He stood me up and used clean water from the faucet to make sure we were rinsed clean.

”Out,” he said. I rushed out of the tub and grabbed a towel and dried off to not get water everywhere. He haphazardly did the same, but his eyes never left my body; I saw them in the reflection of the mirror.

And then I was shoved against the counter. 

“Sam!” I cried and I watched our reflection as he thrusted into me again. He lifted my leg, and my knee rested on the edge of the freezing granite. 

“Watch me,” he demanded and my eyes met his in the reflection. “Watch us; watch me give you want you want.” 

“Oh shit,” I cried roughly. His fingers gripped the roots of my hair and he yanked to keep me upright. If my world wasn’t rocked in that moment, I would have blushed from the sounds of our bodies colliding and moans bouncing off the walls. 

“Sam,” I cried his name until tears formed in my tired eyes. “I’m so close.”

”Then cum for me, my love,” he said gently. “Want you to cum so hard for me.” I gasped and choked on my breath when he grabbed my arm and shoved my hand in between us to lure me closer and closer to my climax.

My knees nearly gave out when it washed over me. He didn’t slow down; he fucked me harder. His hands held up my hips since I clearly forgot how to, and he didn’t give me space to come down after my high.

”Sam! Fuck—please—please! Oh my god, it’s so much—“

He grabbed my throat and yanked me back. His mouth was so close to my face, I felt the warmth.

 “Is it really too much?” His voice was low and sent thick chills across my skin.

”Yes! Need-Need you to cum.”

”Yeah baby? Where do you want me? Inside—“

”In my mouth. Want you to cum down my throat.”

”Fuck,” he gasped and let go of me. “On your knees,” he demanded and I didn’t mind if they were bruised when they met the floor. I looked up at him as he grabbed my hair and thrusted deep into my mouth. The tears finally fell, and as he tried to pull back and lighten his thrusts, I yanked him in and pushed my tongue up against him tighter.

”Holy shit—“ He gasped and his lips parted. I sucked harder, and watched his face twist with pleasure with every movement of my mouth. I knew. I knew him inside and out; I knew what would bring him on my knees for me. So I didn’t go easy.

He moaned my name. I loved that tone; the tone of warning.

”Fuck!” He cried and another moan of my name became sweet music to my ears. “Coming—“

My eyes snapped shut as the first wave of burning tore down my throat. He held onto my hair for dear life as I drank him down, and before his orgasm was even finished, he forced himself out of me. I opened my mouth before I swallowed the rest of his fluid, and as more striped my tongue, the rest slipped out of my mouth and down my cheek.

”Holy shit, holy shit, you fucking—“ Finally, I opened my eyes and he knealt down in front of me. A smile matched with a blush pulled at his face as he wiped his cum from my face with his thumb. 

He kissed me regardless of the mess of my face and mouth. I pressed the remnants of his cum into his mouth and he moaned and kissed me deeper, firmer. 

He pulled away when air was necessary.

”Come on,” he sighed. “Want to lay down and hold you, love you.”

”So this wasn’t you loving me?” I shot back with a smirk. He rolled his eyes.

”Everything I do with you is out of love, even if it’s fucking you like a slut.”

”Oh, okay that’s good,” I laughed, and he helped me up.

After we cleaned ourselves up, he brought me the forgotten champagne and even if it was lukewarm now, we drank it down and kissed one more time. As he left the bathroom with my hand in his, I stole one last look at myself in the mirror.

Behind me, light drops of water reverberated in the room from my soaked lingerie that hung over the faucet in the tub. 

✧˖*°࿐

Taglist (Comment to be added):

@a-random-google-user

@graceciesiels22