#im like. half struggling half not im also just going to DIE . i feel like im writing ooc but also Not but also i am bu

[styxpenz]

i love writing i love writing i love writing i

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[highvern]

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable. 

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?” 

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?” 

“Because I just do.” 

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t date.” 

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him. 

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[ash5monster01]

could you write todd helping reader in english? like helping her with poetry or just regular homework. also, they are already dating ❤️ im a sucker for established relationships im sorry lol

Study Buddies

Pairing: Todd Anderson x FemReader

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, some language, just sweetness

Summary: Being a student at Welton is difficult and even more so when you already struggle with most of your classes. Thank God you have a sweet boyfriend who is always so willing to help.

word count: 700

Masterlist

The groan you let out immediately causes Todd to lift his head and scan the library for any onlookers. Deer in headlights like always just at the thought of someone paying a semblance of attention to him. You shake your head as you watch him, dropping the pencil in your hand as you completely give up on the assignment in front of you. When Todd realizes the coast is clear he finally turns his attention towards you.

“What’s wrong now?” he curiously asks and you wonder how he ever got comfortable around you if he panicked like that over just a couple of curious looks.

“This homework is impossible. I give up” you tell him, eyes glancing at the chemistry you no longer cared about. Even if you could figure out what all of it meant, the amount you had been given was absurd.

“You don’t give up, you just need a second to collect your thoughts” he says, voice his normal quiet and hushed tone and you watch as his hand reaches and slides the book back towards you. “Give it another go”

“I’d rather die” but the pointed look he gives you convinces you to pick back up the pencil and stare at the images on the page.

“I don’t get it” you pout, half annoyed and half on the verge of tears. Welton was hard, you knew that, but it still broke your spirits just the same.

“Let me see” he says, scooting close enough that his knee bumps against your own. He’s a fool if he thinks there’s any chance you’ll pay attention to your homework now. Not when your extremely adorable boyfriend is now this close to you.

“Oh well that’s easy, here look” but when Todd’s eyes look up to meet your own he can see you’re no longer interested in whatever he’s trying to show you. The look makes his ears tint pink and you can’t help but smile.

“Todd, I don’t want to do my homework anymore” you coo, leaning your face close to him. His head swings again, searching to see if anyone was peaking in on this private interaction. He freezes when your hand reaches up and stops him.

“W-we have to study” he tells you but you let out a soft ‘shh’. Stopping his stuttering and brushing your nose against his own. His face is fire truck red in an instant.

“I’d rather kiss you” you say, hot breath fanning across his lips and you can feel his mouth opening and closing, struggling to find words in this very moment. You love how shy he can still get around you.

“You gonna stop me?” you whisper and he shakes his head in your hand, yearning for it just as much as you. With your grip still on his chin you tip his mouth up and towards your own, sealing it against you.

The soft sigh he lets out causes you to grin against his lips before closing them around his again. You kiss him briefly but enough to make him dizzy. When you pull away his eyes are closed, mind reeling and now suddenly desperate to get far away from here. You chuckle to yourself lightly, watching as he processes the moment between you.

“Can you help me with number 6?” you ask and his eyes snap open, trying to recover from the whiplash you’ve just given him. He’s a mumbling mess, head snapping between you and the text book and you offer him as innocent a grin you can muster.

“Everything okay?” you curiously ask and he smiles, laughing lightly to himself and mentally cursing himself for always falling into your traps. It made sense you were the only girl who was able to lock him down.

“Everything’s just fine” he says, sliding back close and leaning to look at the question. You watch him intently, waiting as he processes the words.

“Okay, listen close” he starts and you grin, eyes casting over the page as you’re now prepared for him to explain. He was right you definitely needed a second to collect your thoughts.

Best mini break ever.

[freefolkfightorflight]

Im so pro body positive. I love myself. I love my body.

I’ve even had to relearn how to love my body with the weight gain recently (the past 1-2 years). But i don’t really see this being talked about. The cons of weight gain OUTSIDE of science and diabetes and high blood pressure…at least I haven’t read these things in any circulating article on body positivity. I realize doctors will blame everything on weight gain or being a woman. But anyways here you go. TMI times infinity:

New to me things Re: Weight Gain:

Pain: Let’s talk about how bad getting fat fucking hurts. My weight gain has been slow but recently it kinda spiked. So maybe I will eventually get used to being this heavy and carrying ME around. I’m not sure. I don’t even want to find out

Mobility: It’s affecting my mobility. Like it hurts so bad to just sit up. Walk around. So much pain holy shit.

Flexibility: lol at bending over if I drop something…Not without causing a scene or making horrible pain noises.

Feet: my foot grew at least half a size, so new shoes. And width. Like. Also ankle/feet swelling after work.

Ass: And then there’s the fact that it’s almost scientifically impossible for my to reach and wipe my own ass. I do. But it’s a struggle. And HURTS to try and reach around. (I use a squeezee bottle to clean mostly but still). Even harder is showering and trying to reach back there. Like. I’m so embarrassed. I swear I’m not dirty but just taking notice.

Driving: Buckling seatbelts has become a new struggle and it barely fits.

Shame: Over all these things. Over preventive shit like the high blood pressure and diabetes (I don’t have it yet but still). Over not being able to control my weight like most of the people I know.

Regret?: I’m on tons of psych meds bc I was abused my entire fucking life. So now that I don’t want to die… I’m fat and in pain which is stressful and depressing and challenging✨

Anyways.

I have a doctors appointment in August for a physical/pap etc and I plan to discuss my options re weight loss…since I’m not able to do this on my own. I’m embarrassed about it. But this is where I’m at right now and all I can do it ask for help and try my best.

Fín

Ps. I have a boyfriend who is very positive about my body and makes me feel beautiful and sexy and desired, I’m just at a point where it hurts to just exist and I need to lose some damn weight.

[jayladfanpage]

OPENED the first page of Robin lives #3 and just EXPERIENCED EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

fuCK. LIKE. GENUINELY. FUCK. going to consume raw bismuth rn im sobbubg I had hopes after they showed Shelia and just F U C KKKKKKKKKKK

I think writers forget so much of what made adtif adtif and what made Robin Jason Robin Jason. that boy was willing to give up Robin at that point for just a loving family? The issues that led to adtif? WHAT ABOUT HIS whole struggle and issues with being robin itself? what are we even doing here. Nothing is addressed. Instead we get fucking revenge story after revenge story I'm going to implode die. now I feel stupid about waiting for it. I'm half incomprehensible about most of the things I HATED. DICK. What is he saying. God.

I miss u robin Jason, he was so much... a singular character... barr's run... starlin too to a degree... UGH. HIS CHARACTER THESIS IS LOVE ??? ON GOD I will consume 2 tons of pipebombs today fucking hell on god he barely gets dialog, he barely gets shit, I liked 1 panel and that s it im

Anyhow :D yippie ! Happy to see that you're here for fanon writers and all ! Super cool of you ! And your posts are vvv cool, much love ! Would love to hear your thoughts on Robin lives#3 :) <3

Anon you are so incredibly fucking real for this

Issue #3 is... such a fucking disappointment. Exactly like you said, already the first page makes my blood fucking BOIL.

There's a fundamental misunderstanding, in this issue, of where Red Hood!Jason's ideas of revenge come from. His obsession with Joker's death specifically isn't actually out of a need to have Joker dead, it's a need to prove to himself that Bruce loves him more than he loves his mission. Which is not true for Jason or any of Bruce's other children. Gotham will always come first.

So to have Jason go after Joker with the intent to kill him (and succeed at it!) is spitting in the face of all the complicated, messy familial ties that are at the core of UTRH, for the sake of some sense that Jason was always doomed to be the way he is as an adult.

Jason also doesn't feel good after killing people. He doesn't derive any pleasure from it. He's not disgusted by or ashamed of the things he's done, far from it, but to him the murders are just a means to an end. A task to complete if he wants to save Gotham in the way that Bruce isn't able to. Murdering people sure as fuck isn't the "best thing" to ever happen to him. What the fuck.

I also really hate this page. As much as I don't expect any teenager to fully "deal" with their trauma, because they're a teenager, Jason certainly wouldn't run from it. Jason is perhaps the most openly emotional Bat character, and that's always been one of his most important personality traits. He talks about his pain and his trauma, constantly and endlessly, because Jason benefits from communicating his emotions, even if he does it aggressively or explosively.

Plus, "paralyzed with fear" ?? Jason's fear response is FIGHT not freeze. It's never been freeze. Every time Jason is scared, as Robin or otherwise, he responds by picking a fight. He flings himself head-on to the thing that's making him afraid because god fucking damn it Jason has always been good at saving himself -- which is why he's so desperate to have Bruce kill Joker, so that somebody else will protect him for a change.

This plot I'm conflicted on. I've always hated Timmy Todd and always thought that Jason should have been Joker Junior instead. However, this was not the comic to do it in. Robin Lives should have been a comic about trauma and vulnerability and healing. Main Continuity already gives us the neverending loop of Jason's trauma, of how it keeps constantly getting worse and worse, and I wanted Robin Lives to have been different. I wanted it to grab me by the shoulders and say He could have been fine. Jason could have healed. If only things had been different, Jason Todd could have been good.

But it didn't. It's just another fucking Cheer storyline where we read about a child being "doomed from the beginning" and shifting the blame of Red Hood onto Jason for being a lost cause instead of acknowledging the greater context of Jason's death and revival and it's just. Ugh. It fucking sucks.

Also, Bruce would never say this about saving like a dozen children. "Bigger fish to fry" WHILE HE IS RESCUING BRAINWASHED CHILDREN? where is my Bruce Wayne and what did you do to him

About the fanon writers -- thank you! I always find the hate for them a little misplaced. There are dozens of canons across hundreds of comics and fanfiction as a medium is supposed to have a certain degree of separation from its source. I think a lot less people would be upset over "fanon" batfam fics if the writers understood better core traits of the characters. Fanfiction isn't about "Would [x] do this" it's about "How would [x] do this" and a lot of non-writers don't understand that and just think fanon is always horrible.

[freddie-77-ao3]

TRANS PEOPLE AT CAMP HALF BLOOD BC I'M IN A MOOD™️ RIGHT NOW

NON BINARY:

Connor Stoll (they/them). Connor got to camp at age four, where someone just assumed he was named connor, so they took up the name of a dead boy named connor and decided that yeah, he/him was alright. didn't know what trans meant at the time, they just sort of... anyway, then after the battle of the labyrinth they came out as NB.

wood nymphs. they've got a different gender system than demigods, as well as different pronouns, but to keep it simple for the campers your best bet is they/them.

the resident god Dionysus ofc. he has a complicated relationship with gender (see his chapter in PJ's Greek Gods) but basically, doesn't care what you call him. he/they generally.

MTF:

Drew Tanaka! she's just. always considered herself a girl. there was never any hesitation. her mom called her son and she just. did not compute. her mom was accepting and just sort of called aphrodite up and told her that actually she had given birth to a girl. Aphrodite sent down a new wardrobe in return. she never changed her name.

Clarisse la Rue. she came out when she was twelve. her mom didn't accept her, but clarisse had run away years before that so... her mother never apologized. when clarisse went to her house with chris, it was only because she was truly desperate. after the battle of manhattan clarisse called her once, and. never again.

Lou Ellen Blackstone. she told cecil and will when they were eleven or so (SOM) but didn't really come out to everyone else until one of the hunters pulled her aside in TTC to ask if she wanted to join bc the hunters are super good at finding girls apparently. lou ellen really regrets this but somehow cecil convinced her to make her legal name Louise-Eleanor (first) Wilmadeen (middle) Cecilia (middle) Blackstone. it-- she pretends it's just lou ellen. don't bring it up. Will thinks there was a murder involved and-- well neither of them are telling him otherwise, that's all i'm saying.

FTM: (oh boy here's where I projected a whole bunch)

PERCY MOTHERFUCKING JACKSON. alright folks you ready? so percy came out when he was twelve RIGHT before TLT picks up. struggling mother sally jackson immediately accepts him no questions asked (well there are a few questions but) she gets him onto puberty blockers from a free clinic on forth street right away and changes his name legally. financially they're still struggling, obviously, but sally is picking up some extra shifts. she's already planning on having percy go on T when he turns 16 (if he lives that long--) and after manhattan poseidon and sally sit him down and are like: okay so technically because of ancient laws poseidon can't just snap his fingers but uh if you want a real easy top surgery just do a really easy quest for him and he'll magic your tits away and percy agrees of course so poseidon drops a sand dollar on the ground and in the. most. indifferent voice possible he goes "oh no. my sand dollar. i need a hero." and percy picks it up-- and done. that's when he decides to join the swim team because he doesn't need to bind anymore. also when he heard the prophecy percy immediately went, well i know it says im going to die but hey the universe recognises me as a dude that's pretty cool right. very affirming for him.

NEXT UP we've got michael. height dysphoria kicks ass so seriously don't mention how short he is. anyway michael thought that it was spelt micheal so he chose it for the pun and to feel connected to his dad. uh. don't bring that up to him either. anyway despite being very short, michael's usually pretty stealth. he came out in ttc when he asks jake mason out bc luke used to date his brother lee and michael basically goes "hey do you want to go out i promise i'll be a good boyfriend and not leave you like luke left lee." and jake just bluescreens for a moment because wait, BOYfriend, and anyway after that michael realises he never told anyone. (not necessary to the post but jake said yes) oh, also, his middle name is john. why? who knows. it wasn't significant or anything, clarisse just turned to him one day and said, "you know, you look like a john." so yeah, Michael John Yew. also he liked archery bc it was a lot easier to bind in so.

following that you'll find that actually the three main pjo apollo boys are trans. so WILLIAM ANDREW SOLACE. my baby boy is-- well he's got a lot going on. Will binds (but when he turns 16 he's going to get top surgery and he is. very excited) and don't let his mild mannered doctor self fool you he is a HYPOCRITE when it comes to binding, like that bitch will nag you for hours if you bind for over 8 hours and then you'll see him come off a 48 hour infirmary shift still binding. when he was young and his mother was touring, she left him with his grandparents. He tried to come out at five and cut all of his hair off, but his grandparents kicked him out. Clarisse found him in Texas and brought him to camp. which isn't SATS compliant but I haven't read it yet so *shrug*. Anyway Andrew is after Apollo, when Apollo first met Naomi, he called himself Andrew.

Lee Fletcher is also trans. He was fully transitioned by the time he died. He was super upper class when he came out and his mum stopped speaking to him, but he kept his wealth and became a staunch advocate for trans rights until he died. Anyway he came out when he was seventeen.

Cecil Markowitz. His parents died in a fire when he was 8, he was sent to his grandmother, she kicked him out when he was 9 and came out. 

Clovis

Mitchell

Leo Valdez (part of why Rosa called him a demon)

Malcolm Pace (his trans identity deserves a whole 'nother post it's.) anyway Malcolm can't bind so.

Ellis Wakefield (currently writing a fic about this actually) anyway Ellis comes out when he's 13 (so BoM) at camp, and comes out when he's 15 to his mum. it doesn't go great.

[literallymikewheeler]

sometimes i wish that the hunger games movies were casted a little differently. do not get me wrong, i absolutely adore jennifer lawrence and josh hutcherson !! their acting was perfect and felt so incredibly real !!! however, i feel like it was harder for people to truly understand what the entirety of the games were, with how much older they looked compared to their actual age in the book. most people in the cast were in their 20s/30s during the filming of the movie, while in the book they were a lot younger. as seen in the "if it werent for the baby" scene; as humans, we sympathize a lot more with the younger people are. specially babies, kids and teens. yes, the movies did show how disgusting and horrible the games were, however, they did not exactly tap into a lot of peoples "they are just kids" mindset. one of the most memorable parts of the movies, however, is rue (and prims) death, which is one of a kid played by a kid. aka: the "they are just kids" mindset. if katniss, peeta, and gale were casted as they were in the books (16, 16, 18) they (being both the movie writers and the audience) would have focused more on the horribleness of it all, rather than the "love triangle" the movie tried to create to get more viewers. this also goes to show about the fact that people seem to dislike katniss' character for being too "mean" and "rude". in the books, we see a scared, traumatized kid, while the movies see a scared, traumatized adult (yes, i know she was a kid in the movies too, but a lot of people see her as jennifers age at the time, which was in her 20s) and as much as we should treat trauma equally, many people tend to show more sympathy, and understanding of the actions for kids with trauma then adults. this goes for gale as well. in the books, even if you dont like his character, you will be able to somewhat sympathize with him and understand how complex he is (+ this only applies you have common media literacy !!) while in the movies, we see an adult making all of his "mistakes", and think "well, he should know better!" if it were an 18-year-old boy in the movies who had just watched almost all of his district die, having to choose who to and who to not save, and then immediately get manipulated by coin (all while struggling with his grief, and anger towards the world) people would have understood him a lot better. while in the movies we get "prim reaper !! haha !!" "peeta is so much better ! i hate gale !!" (i was going to end this rant here, but i have one more thing and im done, i promise !) a lot of people will only watch the hunger games to talk about how hot, or attractive they find the characters, completely missing the point. these are kids. they are not some character whos whole point of being is for your visual approval. i will see an edit of finnick (i know he isnt a kid, but the point still stands) and the caption will be something like "i need him so badly" "on my knees for this man", and all i can think about is how many of you guys are just proving suzannes point. especially when it comes to finnicks plot, and what he went through because of snow at only 16. i will see people talk online about how much they love this ship, or about how attractive they find this character, but i rarely see anything talking about the actual point of the games (this is mainly only the nonreaders though) the movies completely went over half the audiences head, and i think that is similar as to what happened with tbosas too ("omg ! president snow is so hot !!") suzanne is just going to keep writing books and keep making them in movies, until everyone can finally understand the point of it all.

[keirawantstocry]

idk if this is gonna be any good and I'm not very good at explaining but I'm gonna try ahahah ok so like tubbo is like in some cold area or something and feels like he's dieing but if he's truly dieing he doesn't want to be alone so in the snow he shittly draws fit and pac holding hand then he puts his hands on their other hands so it's like they are all holding hands and he doesn't have to be alone in a sense um idk if this makes any sense but it like came to me and i had to share

Im allergic to sad endings so i made it go happy also dw it made total sense to me and now im realizing idk if you wanted me to write a fic or just share ur idea but um i wrote a fic lmao

-

Everything was cold. Tubbo wasn’t sure he had a single sensation left in his body. He didn’t know where he was. All he knew was ice and snow. He was dying. He was dying. He was dying. Nothing was more sure to him at that moment. He was going to die here. With the few ounces of strength left in him he drug his finger through the snow, half in delirium. One circle, an egg, his daughter. Then he drew lines. Two little stick figures holding hands. He lost all sense of feeling then, only able to stare at the bright red of his fingers on the end of the stick finger’s arm. 

It was almost like he could feel it, the warmth of the other human body. That was when he knew he was truly fucked. All he could picture was Fit and Pac holding his hands while his eyes shuttered close. He tried. He really did. Struggled to keep his eyes open as the wind picked up and flung snow in his eyes. But in the end, his weakness took over. 

His next memory was warmth. Was this the afterlife? Peeling his eyes open slowly, he peered around at his surroundings. There was a fireplace. A crouched figure placing logs on a fire. 

“Fit?” Tubbo croaked in confusion. 

Fit jumped up from the fire and whirled to face him. “Fuck! Tubbo you’re awake oh thank God.” He flung himself at the man, wrapping his strong arms around him and pulling him up out of his seat. Tubbo couldn’t help but relax into his arms and start to sob. 

He felt another pair of arms wind around him, instantly recognizing them as Pac’s and his sobs grew louder. Tears and snot ran down his face in a disheveled mess. “Vai ficar tudo bem, meu amor.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Fit soothed. “I’ve got you now and nothing is ever, EVER, gonna hurt you again.”

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

EP 4 was just mostly talking and conversations, but there was so much depth THAT I MUST TALK ABOUT IT.

I could literally feel the anguish exuding out of Sally trying to teach Percy to swim

Ngl i was a lil skeptical about azrien’s acting but hearing that scream changed everything

“Hey, you still sleeping?” “Yes” she’s so relatable i love it

i thought we were going to wait until the zebra truck scene for the trauma bonding but we got some of it now which is cool and also makes me wonder whether they’re going to take it to a whole level in the zebra truck scene

I kinda like how annabeth knows so much about grover their dynamic in the show is just so chef’s kiss

I dont know if the whole “thalia made me earn it” thing is canon but its an interesting spin on their dynamic

Grover is such a mood pls shoutout to grover (this episode focused a lil more on percy and annabeth’s dynamic)

Its interesting how they changed frederick chase in the show. In the book frederick never wanted annabeth but in the show frederick loved annabeth. It makes more sense now that percy asks her to go back especially in the books, that was very controversial to have annabeth seem like she was overexaggerating about what she went through with them

i was waiting for them to introduce the searcher pan stuff i almost thought they’d erased it, thankfully they brought it up

ANNABETH’S FACE WHEN THE COP CALLED HER A “LITTLE GIRL” LEAH YOU’RE A ROCKSTAR

Medusa>>>>echidna in the show IM SORRY ECHIDNA WOULDN’T STOP TALKING

The architect in annabeth is coming out i hope she explicitly talks about it later on

I don’t think the writers knew what to do with grover when percy and annabeth were talking so they just made annabeth a little unnecessarily rude for some reason?? At least its better than the movies, where annabeth and grover just WALK AWAY from hermes and percy

i didnt expect the random posh voice it threw me off but it was so funny

OK but can someone help me with this? Percy in this scene says “i have a gift” to annabeth? Could someone pls explain? What gift?

Last episode i was cringing at the screen at percy for the “can’t we just call your mom?” This episode i was cringing at the screen for annabeth’s “you wanna say hi to your dad :))))” these kids have no sense of touchy subjects do they

you’ve done so much more to me in the past few days than poseidon has done in my whole life. If i have to stick with somebody, i—“ “be careful, you were about to call me a friend” THIS DIALOGUE IS SO PRECIOUS ITS WORTH A BILLION DOLLARS

Im suspicious about the percabething this series is doing so far, i feel like its too early, its giving me a feeling that there’s going to be some big angst thats going to happen later on to break the world

When Percy fell, i was genuinely thinking he was going to give annabeth a hug lol (“wow annabeth no you are my friend!!” Something like that)

alexa play jump and fall by ts

I love that they’re expanding the consequences that came with sending medusa’s head to olympus, and how it negatively impacted annabeth, which will probably turn angsty later on

Also, percy looks half dead

The plan to push annabeth into the stairs was executed so smoothly wow

i like they are exploring the very concerning side of percy too, the part of him thats like “im the useless one im ready to die no probs” ALSO THALIA PARALLELS THEY’RE DEF GONNA TOUCH ON THAT NEXT EPISODE

i like how the water grabbed percy like a little tunnel

Its so funny how the nereid says poseidon’s name and percy just starts struggling more like “HELL NO”

THE PARALLELS OF THE START OF THE EPISODE OF PERCY TELLING SALLY TO BREATHE AND THE END OF THE EPISODE OF NEREID TELLING PERCY TO BREATHE

What the heck is that throne thing? Why is percy turning golden? What is happening? HUGGGGGG!! (Too early, as i said), oh look ares—OMG ITS ARES!!

[zivazivc]

im too scared to ask because of the answer but is Hed and Les relationship ok?

(you should be scared)

They love each other unconditionally and are closer than most siblings, and I want to answer with a definite yes, but it’s more of a soft yes.

They’d die for each other and would never want to cause each other any harm, but they both hold very deep-rooted and painful resentment toward each other. This anger, while valid on its own, feels unjustifiable and selfish to both brothers, and is why they have a hard time addressing it. It only starts to get resolved later (for now I’m aiming at the time frame after Floyd leaves the band and before Les runs into him again, which is Hed’s late twenties and Les’s early thirties) when Les finally opens up to Hed about things that happened during their early childhood in the Rock Kingdom, which Hed was too young to comprehend or remember, and this revelation puts a lot of things into perspective for Hed and is extremely cathartic for both of them.

Like I’ve mentioned, Les didn’t talk to Hed about his trauma, (they are four years apart which is a big gap when you’re a kid), and Hed could never fully understand why Les had taken him with him to the Funk Kingdom. It’s a question he never receives an honest answer to, and it’s something he (although unwillingly/with doubt) resents him for since he had a difficult childhood in Vibe City as the only tiny Rock Troll who always got othered and excluded, even bullied.

There is also the related issue where Hed doesn’t understand why his brother is so troubled and disconnected, because he’s under the impression that they’ve more or less been in the same boat all their lives. That it’s always been them against the world. He even thinks Les had it better than him since he is half Funk and sticks out less like a sore thumb among a Funk society than Hed does…

I realize I’ve never addressed this directly, even though I figure some of you probably assume it already, but Les is a deeply depressed character and has been like this since he was very young (similar to Branch, although it’s expressed differently), and he has occasional episodes where he spirals and even becomes suicidal. The first time it happened and he tried to go through with it, Hed was only 8-10 years old, and the fact that his big brother was willing to end it all and leave him alone shook Hed’s entire world. The incident filled him with such intense fear and hurt that he cannot find it in him to forgive his brother for it no matter how much he wants to. He also developed anxiety surrounding Les’s mental state and is terrified of letting him out of his sight for longer periods for fear of losing him.

Les’s resentment towards Hed stems mostly from jealousy and not knowing where to direct his own hurt, and he hates himself for these feelings because none of it is Hed’s fault. — Hed is/was both of their dads’ favorite son, and as far as Les is convinced, he was their mom’s favorite too. He dodged all the worst abuse Les experienced under Butch, Butch even flaunted Hed as his son just to put Les down, and as a little kid Les pretty much hated his baby brother for it. Hed was always seen as the “better” brother even though Hed was a loud brat compared to Les. But it didn’t take long for him to grow on Ish and his roommates while there was always tension between Les and his dad (due to Les already being deeply messed up by the time they got to Ish). Hed in general is a charismatic social butterfly who knows how to get on trolls’ good side. He vibes with both Rock and Funk Trolls, and clicks with most music and trolls in general, while Les struggles with social interactions that aren’t work related and often comes off awkward, especially as a teenager, he’s more casual in his twenties and onward, though still very much closed off.

Hed is also very smart (academically, in regards to reading the room he is a dumbass), he always kept up with school, which he was allowed to attend without question, there was even early talk about uni, while Les never even got to finish elementary school because of his poor performance and him getting expelled over an incident, and was forced to start working early.

Hed also (because of his small size) was often let off the hook when he’d get into trouble/do something stupid. He was babied (word used loosely) by Ish and their uncles a lot in general. If Hed broke something, he’d get yelled at while Les would have to fix it or pay for it out of his pocket. 

They lived under two completely different sets of rules all their lives and Les festered a lot of hurt from the unfairness of it.

Les’s resentment wanes over time. Floyd is the one who helps him find release for a lot of his bottled up pain during their time together. Floyd is basically the first person Les confides in about nearly everything he was put through, and he encourages Les to talk to Hed about it. Which he does after a few years, and Hed learning about what his brother was put through as a little kid is what allows him to finally understand and forgive his brother…

[spiderrmax]

the end?

"50 wordless ways to say I love you"

47. staying up half the night to finish a game with them. word count: 1431 author's note: this was really fun to write because i had to remember the steps to beating the ender dragon. (im not a gamer im sorry) (also since you guys aren't speedrunning you don't finish the game)

It’s 10 pm when you have the amazing idea to start a new minecraft world. When you propose the idea, Kyle laughs, not believing you to be serious at first. The two of you are all ready for bed, his hat discarded and curls loose. However, when you scoot to the end of your bed, turning on your console, he follows suit, sitting right beside you. (The both of you ignore the heat in your face as your legs brush against one another.)

“Minecraft is a game that Ike likes.” Kyle teases, as the familiar soundtrack fills your room.

“Shut up. You mentioned never beating it before. We conquer The End tonight.” You swiftly respond, one of your elbows reaching for Kyle’s ribs. He takes the hit, before recovering quickly, nudging you back into your original spot on the bed.

“The End?” Kyle asks, watching as you make the new world. He smiles a bit when you title it with the two of your initials. You’re cute, he thinks, allowing the thought to simmer before he tries to forget about it.

“It’s where the Ender Dragon lives. You’ll catch on, you’re smart.” You explain, handing him a controller. “You’re going to be the little guy on the bottom half of the screen.”

Kyle doesn’t mention how he’s used to focusing on the upper half, allowing you to teach him the strings. It’s not like he hasn’t played the game before, again it was one Ike enjoyed a lot when they were younger. Ike just never cared to do much other than terrorize villagers and pick flowers.

The game loads up, and the two of you are in a spruce biome. You’re quick to start chopping down wood, and Kyle simply follows in your footsteps. Kyle is impressed with how swift and efficient you are, getting enough wood to make a full set of wooden tools. When you ask for his wood, he has no hesitation in giving it to you, kindly thanking you as you craft his tools too.

“Wanna explore for a bit? We’ll need to go mining at some point but we don’t need to rush the game.” You explain, leaning closer to him. (Kyle doesn’t know if it’s subconscious or not, but he doesn’t move much after that, scared you’ll realize and drift away.)

Kyle’s character mostly follows your character around. You continue to mine at blocks vital to progressing the game — more wood, surface coal, cobblestone — as you guys escape the forest. Playing the game with you is much more relaxing, even if Kyle isn’t making much of the decisions. Not that he minds, really, as it is similar to how Ike would play. If anything, the only reason it’s so tolerable is because he’s playing with you.

The two of you find a village around 11, the hour of exploring feeling like minutes as the two of you wondered around. Kyle watches as you steal from their farms, their chests, and destroys their hay; he can’t feel pity for the villagers with their silly design. Notably, you share the loot with Kyle, not keeping all the nicer items for yourself. It’s almost second nature, to give him the iron pickaxe you found. Kyle leans in closer; you don’t move even as his shoulder brushes.

Before venturing into the mines, you suggest stealing two villagers beds to set your spawn point just incase one of you were to die. Two yellow beds are placed down together, in the middle of a plains biome. Kyle doesn’t comment on your deliberate placement of your bed next to his. He does have to pause to take a sip of his water, face on fire. (It’s just a video game. One he’s playing with you, one he’s enjoying despite the open world. He wonders if you are picking up on his internal struggles, or if you are too focused on the game.)

Hours pass, and the two of you have made more progress than Kyle ever has. You guide him through getting enough diamonds to craft a pickaxe in order to make a portal to the Nether; he wasn’t even aware of the other dimension until you explained it to him.

Despite being prone to raging whenever he dies in game, he doesn’t care when a blaze burns him to a crisp. He watches as your character gets his stuff — “it’ll despawn, I promise to give it back” — and hides in a corner, waiting for him to safely get back to you. He thinks of playing with his friends, who in comparison, would’ve kept his stuff joyfully, and smiles down at you.

You have to get enough blaze rods to get to The End — five, preferably. Once you have that you get to leave the dreaded dimension. As you enter the portal, you show your first signs of exhaustion, yawning and reaching up to rub at your eyes, and Kyle looks up to see it’s one in the morning. 

“Hey it’s getting late. Do you want to head to bed?” Kyle’s voice is soft, peering down at you with such genuineness you can’t stare at him long.

“No, I’m okay. Let’s keep going. We still have to get ender pearls.” You mumble, voice clearly affected from your tired state.

Enderpearls come from Enderman, Kyle learns as the two of you wait for it to be night. In comparison to the five blaze rods, you need 12 eyes. Just in case, you’ll never know how many spots are full at the portal. (You explain things to him with such passion, despite being exhausted. Your hands wave slightly, and Kyle has to take the control from your lap to prevent it from falling. He’s never cared so much about Minecraft.)

Kyle’s first Enderman kills him, coming from behind. You conviently left out how they teleport, and watching him stumble around has you giggling with delirium. Purposely, this time, you lean closer, head tucked against Kyle’s arm. He can feel your laughter, and doesn’t mind being the source of your amusement. As he respawns, he shifts a bit, to allow you to fit better.

You yawn again, and after a moment, a second time. Your character is not moving as efficiently as it once was, and although you haven’t died, you aren’t fighting the mobs either. Kyle is doing most of the work, and almost is cocky with how smooth he can kill Creepers without them blowing either of you up.

At 2:48, you guys finally have gathered 12 pearls. Enderman spawn less frequently than other mobs, thus making it harder to hunt them down. Over the hour you have continued to sink into the warm of Kyle’s hoodie. If it was the morning, with people to witness, he thinks he would be a flustered mess. With the world asleep, it feels right to have you at his side; no one awake to argue with him.

Your character has stopped moving, and Kyle peers down to see if you’re asleep, too. Slowly, you blink up at him, confirmation of your (barely) consciousness. Kyle grins, and pressing a kiss to your forehead comes naturally. A sleepy grin appears on your face, but you don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

When the sun rises in the game, Kyle takes your controller to save the game. Your grip too weak to have any fight, and once the game finishes saving, he turns off the TV. Kyle yawns too, stretching as he stands for the first time in hours. You can barely keep yourself up, and once Kyle’s joints are no longer stiff, he helps guides you back up against your pillows.

“We didn’t get to the End.” You mumble into the comforter, shifting around to create space in your bed for him. He slides in, perfectly designed for the other half of your mattress.

“We can play another day.” Kyle murmurs, pushing hair from your forehead. Your eyes are shut now, and Kyle can’t help but smile from the simple domesticity of it all.

“Thanks for staying up with me.” You cuddle closer, those words acting as your goodnight as you can no longer force yourself to stay awake.

Kyle doesn’t say anything for a moment, yawning himself as he finally lets himself feel exhaustion from being up until three AM.

He tries to think of something romantic to say, like they would in the movies, but he doesn’t need to. The arm he curls around your waist, the way he eases into your mattress, and the relaxed look on his face tells it all.

[chipchopclipclop]

love ur baldurs gate 3 oc so much. idk anything about the game but i genuinely likes him. i wish hes a real character bc i would buy the game for him

thank you anon i know this message is weeks old but ily and also im going to use this ask as an excuse to dump information about him now (swagdor lore (swaglore)) for anyone who cares

general stuff;

hes 49 years old as of game time

necromancy wizard, learned scholar, heavy interest in the boundaries between life and death and undeath, researching different types of resurrection unrelated to god worship (just not a big fan of asking for favours yknow)

stoic even keeled personality, reacts neutrally or stone faced to most things (this does not mean hes uncaring, hes got a curious nature). he used to be very showy and loud when he was younger, he finds that now very embarrassing

used to be a leader of an adventuring band in his 20s, fell apart when his group were defeated in battle leaving him lone survivor, wasnt a necromancer back then

has a distinct lack of self regard, half of him believes he'll be more of use untethered to the chain of mortality (undead in some fashion, or just thinking his corpse more functionally useful) the other half is just still struggling with survivors guilt (lol)

wanders around looking for old crypts and tombs to help his arcane pursuits, do-good's alot accidentally while he does, though most people get scared of him when he reveals the necromancy magic so hes got a mixed reputation (has some sort of misnomer like The Specter of so-and-so that wyll probably recognizes and laughs about)

will go along with just about anything if it amuses him, and has a weird sense of humour. hard to catch off guard or fluster, he yes-and's people alot to see how far they'll go with something or out bluff them (sometimes this causes them to try and beat the shit out of him)

truthful about his feelings when asked, but rarely volunteers his thoughts on things of his own accord, this gives him a weirdly mysterious image at first to most people

treats his raised corpses with care befitting living beings outside combat, and used to even raise some for company even if they were functionally just puppets.

he likes skeletons more than zombies (smell…)

his fake in game quest line is called 'The Wandering Necromancer' and involves inquiring about his old adventuring days of times past and learning why he's so into skeletons. He eventually reveals his past and you can bring up his groups old misadventures (oh my god you were the backstreet boys???) and he is very embarrassed by it. He reveals his group was felled by a lich, and he never found their bodies so hes always been curious on a way to speak with them again somehow.

plot continues BLAH BLAH eventually you find out that lich is still around and swagdor's old friends are now in its undead service so you go to kill it <3 but on the way he considers if he should take the lich's place so he can have his old companions around again (even if they're in his undead service) and try to give them some semblance of new twisted life again. You either help him with the preparations (yay phylacterys) or go bro you need to Move On. Man. and instead choose to release their souls when the lich is killed.

swagdor is stronger as a lich but also becomes even more detached from concepts of mortality (his sense of danger is basically nill now regarding others... its okay if u die ill bring u back somehow :) <- unnerving smile) and also all his dead friends are talking to him in his ear so he's constantly got a sense of being away from everything.

unliched swagdor moves on properly and begins The Healing Process (better late than never king) and seems more present in current ongoings, finding a place he can really set his feet. He's also less obsessed with death but sees his necromancy instead as a means to help and speak with wayward souls of the dead.

useless trivia corner: his names swagdor bc i based him off an old div2 oc i made when i was playing that game with aqua, where i used one of the randomly generated names they gave me and put the word swag into it (lol) i now am using his div2 swagdor's adventures as a semi basis for his new bg3 versions background thats why his younger versions outfit is based off that one captain armour set i never took off in that game

[sassykinzonline]

Rank Naruto across the ages

ok...? objectifying naruto is my favourite pastime

10. Blank Period Naruto

he looks like a dork and a fed, this is what heterosexuality does to a mfer.

luckily he didnt look like this in real life, his face was still pretty round and his hair was longer. he did wear a jacket like that but with an orange uzushio shirt underneath, and orange and blue track pants like obito's.

9. The Last Naruto

he looks like hes in basic training. hate it. once again his face didnt look like that and his hair is stupid. naruto has never been one for fashion but he wouldnt dress like someone's dad at age 19, cmon now. its only slightly better than the blank period one because the scarf is a cute callback to his childhood.

8. Boruto Naruto

the outfit is fine. the haircut is awful. i like that we have matching capes. the face looks more like him than the others did. this one ranks higher than the others because of the dilf appeal but thats really all that redeems it. this scene too.

7. The Naruto that Loved me

after we lost our arms but before we got the implants. we spent a lot of time together before i left, so the manga/anime version of us feels very cold. he also wore a yukata during this time, not pants and a shirt. he said it was more comfortable that way. this is where they get closer to representing naruto as he is, so it ranks higher than the others even though im not too much of a fan.

6. Genin Naruto

hold your shocked gasps until the end. this is the version of naruto i had the most conflict with, it's probably the most painful and distant our relationship has ever been. even when we were apart as teenagers, i felt at peace with how i felt about him compared to this time period. it's just marked with fear, his obliviousness and his own problems with me and himself. but he was still mostly cute and soft here so it ranks high.

5. Enter, Naruto

the naruto you see at the start of the series. i kissed this naruto so there's sentimental value in him. but again, he really hated me and even though i thought it was funny i probably would've just preferred he didnt. the goggles are lame also.

4. Newborn Naruto

adorable and pure. i cried the moment he was born because i knew my life had changed. i want to protect him. he is my dream.

3. Naruto, the village Troublemaker

the naruto that started it all. a total dickhead. the birth of usuratonkachi. but somehow also always bringing me the peace i needed during the worst time of my life. the only reason hes here instead of 2 is because 2 was slightly cuter, but i wish i had been able to hold this version of him too.

2. Naruto, the village Pariah

i cannot understand how anyone can look at this cherub and push him around, pour water on him, scream, hit, and curse at him. he was somehow even purer than how he was as a newborn despite all the horrors he experienced as a child. the manga doesnt go into detail, the anime is more true to life but still doesnt even scratch the surface. there are still things i find out from him now that we're adults. this was the first time i saw him (except he was wearing a scarf then), and everything happened in a flash. the seed was planted in my heart.

Naruto, my hero

this is the naruto i fell in love with the moment i saw him. it's the naruto that blooms into everything he didnt exactly know he wanted, but what he did know he needed. when naruto and i die, this is probably the time period our souls will be stuck in. what else can i say about him? its the naruto who struggles the most, succeeds the most, hurts the most, hurts others the most, but we love the most because he is so human. and it gave us sage mode, which is super hot. and the general mesh shirt/half-naked beach babe vibe he gives off for a bit is also great for the eye. the naruto he is now is just a continuation of this one.

[vernfernn]

i don’t think i’ve ever told anyone this but like, during one of my first Skyrim play throughs, i was working up to build Lakeview manner. Lydia was my companion for the majority of the beginning, and she followed me around literally everywhere. holding all the materials i was hoarding, fighting my battles for me (i was new and inexperienced), and generally doing all the heavy work and getting literally no reward.

and when i say holding all my materials, i mean all my materials. all my good gems. my stone. clay. other miscellaneous ingots and bs i was never gonna look at nor use. countless dragon bones, scales, cast iron pots, ingredients and potions i “may need someday”.

she followed me everywhere, fought dragons, went missing when i ran from the dragons, disappeared when i started getting the hang of the game, and i never really bat an eye until i was at the half finished house and several dragons spawned in to attack me (i always fast traveled and that kind of triggered a dragon to always spawn whenever i got to the house) and was constantly screaming for her because i was low level and had no idea what i was doing.

“LYDIA WHERE DID YOUR SWORN TO CARRY MY BURDENS ASS GO IM GETTING FLAMED ALIVE IN FRONT OF A DEAD MUDCRAB!”

anyways

she also was there for when i became thane of falkreath and followed me when i painstakingly tried to figure out who i was supposed to do quests for to become thane.

i remember going into some sort of cave to find a journal for the priest of arkay only for it to be infested with the draugr (my sworn enemies at the time because they freaked me out) and she ended up getting locked out of the boss fight.

she got stuck behind a door while i sniped those idiots from a distance and somehow did not get spotted.

anyways, after building up all the wings for Lakeview (with spotty interior decor) we went to a mine so i could get a bunch of iron because i needed nails and hinges for my basement.

we finally get home and of course—a dragon decides to attack. again.

and i’m fighting for my life here, trying not to die and reload my quick save from literal hours ago.

and lydia thinks this is the perfect time to ask to be my steward.

with fire literally raining down from the heavens, burning my character alive, i hastily say yes without even realizing what she was asking for, and go into the offensive to put down this habanero lizard and steal its soul. classic hot girl shit.

she, me, and rayya (the housecarl you get when becoming thane of falkreath) fight this damn thing and kill it within literal minutes (i felt so proud of myself for not struggling during this fight.)

me later realizing i don’t have a follower behind me anymore when i fast travel to falkreath to buy more building materials for my house. the entire time i was wondering if Lydia glitched again (she got stuck behind a wall in ustengrav before and during that fetch quest for that one priest so i decided i would backtrack once i finished buying building materials to furnish my house.)

i teleport back to my house and almost immediately see lydia walk around like she owned the place. it was then i realized she wasn’t my follower anymore, and i assumed that my game had indeed glitched so i go up to her to see what the problem is or to recruit her again.

que lydias talk screen having the options to decorate my house when i talk to her, and i realize what happened. i immediately have second thoughts when i hear how happy she is about being my Steward and i feel guilty for wanting her as a follower again. so i just leave her there along with like 15k gold to furnish my house.

i also have a housecarl as mentioned before: rayya. and as i’m playing (and marrying some lass from riverwood for the money and literally nothing else because i was DESPERATE to have the house fully furnished.)

i eventually realized it was a bit odd that there where three women living in one house under one roof along side two kids and a husky and other small creature. (it was either a rat, bunny, or mud crab i do not remember.)

que me replaying this character a several more times and keeping up the tradition of having Lydia as a steward for Lakeview and Rayya as another household member but never adopt any kids or marry again because i’m now a master at scamming vendors in the game. plus the kids were annoying, and always ungrateful, and always asking for cash or gifts (none of which they were ever grateful for).

as the years progress i grow attached to my character and start creating a small story for him because we have a lot of history and i got attached.

i’m then wondering how i would explain Lydia and Rayya.

it hits me.

lesbians.

they’re married and employed by a really cool landlord who also happens to be the prophesied savior of the world.

they simply live out their years in a big house with the best scenery and local necromancer to keep them company. once tasked to follow and guard a guy who could yell really loud, now living out in the woods with an early retirement.

now in my head they are married and live in the big ass house with a cool husky, some chickens, a cow, carriage, horse, bard, and the occasional giant on its way to absolutely murder the chickens and cow whenever he stops by. classic cottagecore—warrior—lesbian story.

que me going through the house to see if there would be enough beds for everyone.

minus the one in the wing i used to create a primary bedroom, there’s another bed for two people upstairs. in my mind that bed is theirs and they’re married

lydia kept one of my amulets of mara my first play through when i agreed to let her be my steward (she kept a lot of my stuff, and i was unable to get it back because i felt too guilty taking the one thing she seemed to like). ((also i tried pickpocketing her but failed every single time)).

i grow genuinely attached to this idea and can never keep Lydia as a companion when it comes to getting my house furnished and feel a sense of pride when i’m reuniting her with her one true love.

anyways, that’s the story of how i came to love two completely unrelated characters and no one will understand my attachment to them. i love them so much and want them to be happy.

they’re married, idc

[shukakumoodboard]

*Pulls out my massive bag of money and jewels and blow* I’m your biggest fan so I must pick your brain now that you have a tumblr ask box. your finest gaalee romance hcs my good sir. Please

help.

I’m your biggest fan

did you know im crying ab this. kissing u on the face rn

ok gaalee romance headcanons. i've been thinking about this for days. grab ur mojito mix lets frockign gaur

ill be upfront in that i have very few i'll-die-on-this-hill opinions about the boys, but here's some i'm pretty stuck to <3

sfw headcanons

1. lee's better with words, gaara's better with actions, and they're both secretly envious of the other for it: my thoughts here are that gaara spent so much of his life not understanding love that he'd still struggle to articulate it in flowery ways that i think, as a born theatre kid, lee would be good at. but gaara would absolutely be that person who shows it in subtle ways -- like taking care of someone when sick, remembering food preferences, always ensuring lee takes care of himself when lee forgets or is busy having a self-flagellation moment. not that i think lee would be incompetent, but he strikes me as more of a scatterbrain, but would always be on top of verbal reassurances and affection (which i also think is what gaara would benefit from: clear straightforward declarations of feelings and intent)

2. they're both super cuddly in private look, you put together a touch-starved former monster vessel and a social outcast who mostly knows touch from violence (until gai) and you are going to get some clinginess imo. you can't convince me they're not the kind of people who would sit side by side at the dinner table so they can eat holding hands. bro (emotional)

3. they're probably actually really shit at "conventional" dating hear me out ok. they're like initially so far away and gaara is the whole president and lee kicked a meteor in half one time you think they can just wander around and go to restaurants? it's absolutely nonsense that shinobi don't suffer village celebrity paparazzi syndrome in nart tbh. not exactly the same but i have a whole wip in the bort-verse about them sneaking around. tldr i'd bet they sometimes get casual breakfast or dinner but i think more likely takeout and quiet time together as opposed to like fancy dates

4. language learning and hobbying as a form of devotion as a purveyor of my wares u may notice i have language headcanons. it is also my gaalee romance hc that they learn each others -- i've incorporated this into in the space between and a wip called multilingual, which is all about nejiten teasing lee about his crush on gaara in front of the man. i also think that lee would lean into gaara's gardening stuff with gusto because if it's something gaara loves, lee would want to love it too.

nsfw headcanons huehuehuhe

1. they're switches and i WILL die on this hill i think this is self explanatory but listen. listen i am SIQUE of the assigned top/bottom nonsense they both deserve to rail and also be railed. i may be the resident owner of the Rock Lee Fucks tag on AO3 but i also own the Gaara Fucks tag. ill kill a man over this

2. lee is absolutely a service anything this ties into the previous one. a big component of his canonical personality is that he's a disciple of gai -- he's a follower who bases a lot of himself around those he cares for. not the kind of person who is suddenly going to crop up with an intensely specific preference, imo? i think he would base his role on whatever his partner needs the most at the time.

3. rock lee's canonically huge dick ok lol listen. listen this one's canon jokes aside i think lee is hung as detailed in We Don't Talk About Fight Club and i will continue that joke. that being said i think normal hung. not arizona tea can hung which is a hilariously illustrated discord joke

4. tbh i think they're kinda vanilla in the bedroom i say this in a positive way i think they'd be far more into like, just being able to be with each other instead of getting into wild sexual mischief all over the villages although they definitely bone in weird places secretly. they Fuck, but like i don't see them as super kinksters or anything. however, i have seen many a kinkfic that im like nodding my head this is valid cakesitting bdsm what who said that

5. gaara's vaguely nebulous oral fixation i really have no justification for this one i just think some of those animal bijuu instincts might linger and turn into what that mouth do idk i keep going to write smut and whoops my whole body slipped and gaara's licking something. happened in fight club and fight club II, happened in hole time, happened in tgod, happens in at least two wips i have cookin' in the background... what is goin on actually

dkghkdf i hope you enjoyed this episode of kel's questionable headcanons. i really enjoyed answering, thank you so much for the ask <3