#it puts me in such a trance i’m actually productive

[escapizm]

“죽지 못한 괴물이 돼가

하지만 이젠 내가 뭘 해야 하는지 알아, 알아”

“Becoming a monster that can't die

But now I know what I have to do, I know"

- Enhypen, “Fate”

[henrysglock]

Hey, I know you do some movie analysis and one of the movies I recently watched is “The Good Son” which is on the inspo board. Spoilers, but the plot is literally about a “child psychopath” named Henry who murdered his infant brother in the backstory and in the story proper tries to murder his sister and especially hates his mother for catching on to his troubling behavior and for trying to have him institutionalized (so he tries to kill her in the climax but he dies himself after his mother concludes that he was born evil and the movie lands on that message). I am curious as to what yours and aemiron’s take on this is movie is because of how clearly this is inspiration for Vecna’s backstory and just how contradictory it’s messaging is to what you guys interpret/theorize about it. I’m on anon because I don’t want to get ostracized for even suggesting that Vecna was born evil (I disagree with that message but I’m being neutral on whether the duffers agree with me), and this is why I decided to just ask the experts.

Personally, I haven’t seen The Good Son, so I can’t speak in depth about that movie’s specifics.

However I think it’s important to remember that inspiration ≠ direct copy. We should also keep in mind that there are a multitude of contradictory plot points in Henry’s backstory.

For one: He physically could not have killed Alice (I’ve made this point several times across the past months). Alice was still clearly alive before Victor went into his trance. As we know from later in the season, given that it was a critical and heavily focused on part of Nancy’s plan: Vecna can’t do anything else while he’s trancing someone. Thus, Henry could not have killed Alice, since she was still alive when Victor enters his trance.

Point blank. He could not have killed Alice.

Second: He never says he despised his mother. He says his mother despised him. Very different things.

Third: There are a multitude of signs that Virginia was less than stellar as a mother (including but not limited to whatever the hell her bathtub vision was referring to [shudders] egh), but relatively few signs that Henry was anything but weird. Virginia was planning to ship Henry off to MARTIN BRENNER at a DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY MKULTRA LABORATORY. I mean, my god. Henry was twelve. Victor describes Henry as sensitive, the same way Joyce describes Will as sensitive.

Fourth: As I’ve detailed here:

Henry doesn’t meet any of the markers for conduct disorder (child psychopathy doesn’t exist, anon).

It’s also important to remember that the Duffers love a good twist…which is what I absolutely believe they’re setting us up for.

The Good Son feels more like an inspiration for this cover story to disguise the twist, if you ask me.

We’ve only been shown the briefest, most disjointed glimpse into Henry’s childhood. On the surface, before you actually study the scenes, it may seem like “oh he’s a psycho killer monster, that’s easy and simple”…But that’s NOT what Stranger Things has ever been about. It wasn’t like that for Billy, or El (who, for her age, has a FAR higher kill count than Henry at the same age), or any of them. Everyone is a product of their circumstances, and there are no innate monsters. Just people.

I mean this with all the kindness in the world: You have to actually watch what’s happening in the scenes, Anon. There’s a ton of shit that doesn’t add up.

You have to pull back the curtain, Anon. This is the “common interpretations aren’t the right ones” show. They literally tell you to look “too deep” in S1-3. Henry’s story is no different. Henry is not exempt.

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Romeo And Juliet (Or Some Other Romantic Shit Like That) Ch. 5

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Series Description: The Saturday night slot at The Hideout is open, and Corroded Coffin thought they were a shoo-in. When it goes to a different band, however, Eddie becomes more than a little distracted by their bassist.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Description: A month's worth of pining may actually come to fruition, and Eddie meets your haunted Victorian doll of a cat.

Warnings: implied smut, language

Word Count: 1854

For the second time that evening, you’d rendered Eddie utterly speechless, and for the first time in his life, keeping his mouth shut for once and not saying anything at all seemed to have been the wrong thing to say. 

There was not a single tangible thought in his head; how could there be? You were kissing him. Him! Of your own will and volition, you were kissing him. Your hair products left the scent of vanilla and honey, and your lipgloss, sticky and smearing slightly across his mouth, tasted like cherry Jolly Ranchers. He was sure he’d end up wearing just as much of your black lipstick as you were by the end of the night, but he didn’t care, because a month’s worth of pining was actually coming to fruition. 

Eddie pulled back first and you pointed your wide eyes at him. He had a similar stunned look on his face as you took the smallest step back.

“Oh,” you muttered, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth, embarrassment on your face. “Oh, I completely misread that, didn’t I?”

“What? No, you-”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that!” You took another step away from him and Eddie swore he could see your eyes go glassy for just a moment before you dropped your head into your hands once more. “I shouldn’t have just thrown myself at you, not without asking first. God, I’m such an idiot!”

Eddie said your name in an attempt to put an end to your ramblings, twice actually, but you didn’t seem to process it. You picked up your bass in one hand and your backpack in the other and inched ever closer to the door. 

“Thank you for driving me home,” you said as you avoided his eye contact. The intense embarrassment that had flashed across your features was evident in the tremble in your voice. “I am so sorry. I promise, you’ll never have to see me again after this. It was a miscalculation on my end, and-”

“Stop talking!” Eddie said as he took a wide step and closed the gap between you and him. He placed his hands on the sides of your arms. 

“What? Eddie, I-”

“I promise you, you didn’t misread a goddamn thing.” Your eyes grew somehow even wider at that.

“I didn’t?”

“No, you didn’t.”

There was a pause in the conversation for just a moment. The cool night air nipped at Eddie’s cheeks, and he could feel goosebumps starting to sprout up on your skin under his fingers. Your eyes met once more, just before Eddie slammed himself into you.

He’d kissed plenty of pretty girls in his day (he was the lead singer in a rock band, after all), but none of them had left him feeling quite like this. You were making his legs feel like jelly and his brain go all foggy. Your hand made its way to his hair and his stomach flipped. You pulled away this time, and Eddie instantly missed your warmth.

“Jessa won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest,” you whispered, your faces still heart-wrenchingly close together.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie responded, voice dropped low to match yours. He was trying very, very hard to come off as smooth but seriously doubted it was working. 

You walked away from him then, and opened the door to your apartment building. Eddie just stood there, feet fused to their spot on the cracked sidewalk, until you barked a quick ‘you comin’ or what?’ to break him out of his trance. He quickly made his way to you and, as the two of you giggled like schoolchildren up to your apartment, Eddie felt just a little bit like he was dreaming; like he could wake up at any moment and you’d be gone.

The pair of you made quick work of getting up the stairs to your floor. Your hands shook just a little bit as you unlocked your apartment door, and as soon as you were past the threshold, Eddie was on top of you once more.

It felt like your skin was on fire with every touch as you scrambled down the short hall into your room. You bumped your thigh into the sharp corner of your dresser, but you were immediately distracted from the pain by the grip Eddie held on your waist tightening and the feeling of your calves hitting the edge of your bed. Eddie haphazardly flopped the two of you down onto the mattress. You hadn’t expected it, and the force of impact on your back made you let out a soft laugh. Eddie laughed, too.

Eddie may do his best to paint himself as scary or mean, but to you, in this moment, he was anything but. He was soft and gentle, and never in your life had someone made you feel the way he was making you feel right now. Your dating history was very messy, and most of the people you’d hooked up with or dated in the past had been rough and tumble assholes who just wanted a quick lay. Eddie, though, was treating you as if you were something to be adored, like a precious marble sculpture, deserving of a careful hand. You’d never had that before. 

It continued like that through most of the night; soft touches and giggly kisses punctuated by heaving breaths. You talked, too, for hours. He was fun to talk to, easy to lose track of time with, and the sun was just beginning to sneak its way over the horizon by the time the two of you fell asleep with your limbs tangled together. 

Eddie woke up the next morning with you wrapped around him like a koala bear. The alarm clock on your nightstand told him it was just past eleven, and you were out cold. He contemplated waking you up, but considering the fact that you’d played a full set, gotten home at two a.m., and then stayed up with him all night, he figured you probably needed the sleep. 

He carefully pulled himself out from your grasp, thankful that you seemed to be a heavy sleeper. He put his boxers back on and tried to find the bathroom. The first door was the bedroom that presumably belonged to Jessa, the second was a linen closet, but-

“Third time’s the charm.”

He used the bathroom and splashed some water onto his face (and did some light snooping) before walking out into your kitchen and making a pot of coffee for the two of you. He had to open pretty much every cabinet in your kitchen to find the bag of coffee grounds, then every other one to find mugs for the two of you, but eventually, coffee was successfully made and doled out. 

Eddie liked your apartment. It was tiny and a little bit dated, but you and Jessa had decorated it with all sorts of knick-knacks and the best second hand furniture Hawkins had to offer. There was a sofa pushed against the wall, and the coffee table in front of it was littered with music magazines and art books. A small television sat on a table opposite it, along with a handful of VHS’s tucked in the shelves underneath. There was a big window stretched across the third wall. The sill housed several small houseplants, and there was a stained glass piece shaped like a crescent moon hanging in the window. It caught the light and tossed it back out into the space in a kaleidoscope of color against the floor. The space was cozy, and smelled like incense and clean clothes.

The true centerpiece, though, was the record player tucked underneath the window, and what was maybe the biggest record collection Eddie had ever seen. It put his own collection to shame in size alone, and pretty much every genre that existed was represented in one form or another (though the concentration of punk was very high), and you and Jessa had it alphabetized. Just as Eddie pulled out your copy of Germfree Adolescence, he was interrupted by a gravely mew from the coffee table.

“Hi,” Eddie said to the scruffy gray cat perched on the table. It looked a little bit like a stuffed toy that got left outside in the rain, and although Eddie could tell it was full grown, it was small. 

“That’s Puffin.”

Either the smell of the coffee or the sound of the cabinet doors must have roused you, because soon after that, you came trudging out of the hallway wearing a tattered London Calling t-shirt, rubbing your eyes. 

“Puffin?” Eddie asked, amused at the name. 

“Yeah, Jessa’s had him since she was ten,” you explained.

“Is that why he looks like he’d burn to dust in the sun?”

“I mean, he is twelve years old,” you said as you sat on the couch. “That would make him, like, seventy.”

“Little old man,” Eddie muttered as Puffin waltzed closer to him, expectant of chin scratches, which Eddie quickly provided. Puffin’s gaze is glued to Eddie and it was starting to go from ‘cute’ to ‘deeply unsettling’ as Eddie pulled his hand away. “He’s kind of. . .”

“Creepy?” you finished his sentence. “I’m pretty sure he’s at least a little bit haunted.”

Eddie let out a laugh as you scooped up a gray ball of fur and dropped him in front of his bowl of food. 

“That coffee I smell?” you ask, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“That it is, sleepyhead,” Eddie said as he handed you one of the mugs. “Figured it was the least I could do.”

“God, you’re an actual angel,” you said as you yawned. You sat yourself down onto one of the chairs against the kitchen counter and closed your eyes as you took a sip of your coffee. You both drank in comfortable silence for a moment, Eddie leaning against the counter opposite you. He stared at you for a moment, and felt the same pang in his stomach that he’d had when he saw you on stage for the first time. You hadn’t had a chance to take your makeup off last night when you’d gotten home, so your mascara and eyeliner had smudged under your eyes, giving you a bit of a raccoon-esque look. Your hair was wild, and you looked a little worse for the wear due to the lack of sleep, but Eddie thought you were just as beautiful as you were on stage last night. 

“There’s a diner a few blocks down the road. Do you wanna go get breakfast?” you asked, getting up and placing your now empty mug into the sink. Your eyes caught the time off the clock sitting against the wall on the counter. “Or, I guess it’d be lunch, at this point.”

“Yeah,” Eddie answered with a small smile. “I’d like that.”

The two of you quickly made yourselves as presentable as you could and, as you got into Eddie’s van and he started up the engine, he felt a lot less guilty about stalking your shows for a month. 

Tiny Little Taglist: @wickedslashdivine @youareadistraction @bubbles-is-my-thing @music-is-my-only-reality @heavenkiss @aedicn

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 63: The Art of Letting Go

THURSDAY - WINTER 18

Achilles had always sought to maximize productivity whenever possible, but a new benefit he’d uncovered to being a natural early rise was the extra time it gave him to spend with Alex. In fact, waking up at 6:00am gave them nearly two hours together before Alex had to leave for work. 

Yesterday had been, to paraphrase Achilles, a “coming” rather than a “going,” but the Night Market’s late night festivities and Alex’s late night words had together helped Achilles find a rather sounder sleep than usual, and he had woken this morning in a more energized mood. 

For breakfast, he had proudly boiled them two eggs each before gleefully mashing an avocado, while Alex fried up some bacon and toast. Afterwards, Achilles washed up (“What are you talking about? I hate washing dishes, that’s the one chore I can’t stand,” Alex had said in response to Achilles’ “I’m being gaslit” insistence that Alex had once said he loved it) while Alex escaped to the bedroom to change into his uniform. 

They switched places, with Alex heading back to the living room for his daily 20 minute stretch routine that Achilles had refused to partake in for no good reason (“except to just be difficult, huh?”), instead choosing to return to his bathroom to blow dry his hair. 

But with Alex out of sight, even so—how nice it felt! To know there was another person in the house. 

Not words I thought you would ever be thinking, Voltaire seemed to say as he watched Achilles unscrew the lid off his his hairstyling clay. 

Achilles amended his thoughts. A specific person in the house. A person who loved him and whom he loved in return. He retreaded the road of Alex’s reassurances from the previous night— 

I hope I can give you some sort of peace of mind… 

But as a sunrise swelled in his chest at the thought, he realized, it was more than just peace of mind. Alex gave him peace. 

Well. In some ways, at least.

Alex must’ve made the bed earlier, had even straightened the pillows; his extreme (in Achilles’ opinion) dedication to order and organization Achilles had found to be just a little bit unnerving. 

Now Achilles didn’t think he was messy, but even so, he was suddenly feeling the pressure to organize the rest of his room, and found himself hanging his scarves and straightening his bookshelf, until he had realized he’d cleared his desk of everything but a notebook and a pen. 

Hmm. 

Seemed like enough of a sign. 

As if in a trance, he sat down. 

“Are you writing?”

Alex must’ve slipped into the room at some point. How he had missed him enter, Achilles wasn’t sure; Alex wasn’t the most light-footed guy, and with that bright orange quarter-zip the gym made him wear… 

With the characteristic tilt of his head, Alex leaned over Achilles’ shoulder for a better look, but there was nothing to read for Achilles hadn’t yet put pen to paper. 

“No, this is actually the part that comes before the writing, where you just stare at a blank page for a few hours before calling it a day and taking a depression nap.” 

“Oh, I see. Can I?” Alex reached for the pen. 

Achilles answered his questioning look by scooting to his left with a nod, but Alex went ahead and attempted to sit in his lap anyway. 

“What are you doing, you’re like 200 pounds—”

“Two hundr—it’s not like you’re a tiny dude, Ash, I’m not going to break you—anyway, you didn’t have any complaints last night—”

Achilles managed a rather choking laugh between muttering something about “weight distribution,” while Alex, willfully oblivious to Achilles struggling to readjust to a more comfortable position beneath him, remained huddled over the desk, determinedly scribbling something on the page as Achilles attempted to rip it out from under his fingers. 

“Right, let’s see what you’ve got for me, you menace…” Achilles wrapped his arms across Alex’s stomach and rested his chin on his shoulder. 

“Tada.” With a flourish, Alex set the pen down on the notebook and slid his doodle of ‘A.M. + A.R.’ framed within a lopsided Cupid’s heart forward. “I hope this super amazing piece of art inspires the rest of your day.” 

Achilles’ exaggerated, sarcastic gasp led to him having to dodge a retaliating head butt. “Wow! You did this? Wow! Thank you so much, Al, this is amazing.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you try to do something nice…” But Alex was chuckling as he swung his legs to the side and hopped down (“Really? I was just getting comfortable”) to take a seat back on Achilles’ bed instead. “Do you want to write?” 

“I… maybe? I think so. I got this big ass pseudo inspirational speech from Elliott yesterday… And you’re going to be at work all day, I feel like I should be doing something, too. Why? You think I don’t actually want to?” 

“Nah, I was just thinking… I don’t know. These past few days with Elliott’s reading and stuff… I’d been thinking maybe that was partly why the past few days have maybe been a little hard. For you. Sorry, don’t mean to assume though…”

Achilles turned in his chair to better face him, his pen spinning smoothly between his fingers. “Hard because I’m a bad person who gets driven mad with envy upon hearing of other people’s success like the spiteful little gremlin I am?” 

“Everyone gets jealous, Ash, can’t help that, it doesn’t make you a bad person. You still planned Elliott’s book reading for him and tried to help him find an agent and everything, didn’t you? Despite it all?” 

Achilles grunted and turned back forward. 

“Well. You’re right. It was grating on me. But what doesn’t grate on me! Might as well call me a cheese grater at a fromagerie, the rate I get grated.” He threw his hands up, just to have them collide into Alex, who grasped them and gently brought them back down to Achilles’ sides. “But I’m going to sit here until I write something. It’s going to be shitty and it’s going to be rough, but for the first time in awhile, I feel like I actually want to at least try. Insert something here about determination and motivation and self actualization… Or no—was it demystification? I can’t remember exactly…” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, that was like five too many words for me.”

“It was something Elliott was saying yesterday, some writing advice some author once gave him. I think he was trying to make me feel better, which I appreciate, but he was using a lot of words and I only had like five functioning brain cells at the time… 

“But he was just basically saying that wanting to write takes more than just hard work, that you sometimes need to sort of really step away from it for a bit, focus on yourself—which, you know, is fair, and it clearly worked for him—remember when we went to Sunspray Peak last Summer for a few days? He was having writer’s block and I had suggested he get out of his own head for a bit and oh my god I just realized he was quoting me.” Achilles paused. “Well, not quoting, exactly, I would never have phrased it the way he did.” 

He glanced back at his desk and picked up his pen again, sent in spinning through his fingers. “But anyway, I feel like I’m… in a better place. Overall. Than I’ve been in a hot minute, so, you know, might as well… try…” He trailed off as his eyes were drawn from the notebook back to the man standing over his shoulder. 

Oh, Alex… There he was, grinning wide and bright-eyed in obvious excitement, practically bouncing, really—or, on second thought, maybe he was just exercising. A true multitasking legend. 

“What are you going to write?” Alex asked. 

“I have no fucking idea.” Achilles tapped his pen against the notebook, then glanced at Alex’s green eyes and smiled. “Whatever the hell comes easy, I suppose.” 

“That’s my man.” He leaned down to grab Achilles’ face with both hands and pressed his lips firmly into his cheek before cuffing him (not particularly lightly) on the side of the head and skipping back to the living room.  

*****

Motivation. Determination. Something about self-enlightenment. What? 

After Alex had left for work, Achilles had carefully cut out Alex’s doodle from the morning and taped it to his bathroom mirror. That had bought him about five minutes before he forced himself to return to his desk. 

Motivation. Determination. Perspiration? Was it really perspiration? 

Man, why was he even trying so hard to remember Elliott’s highfalutin version of his own words.

You just don’t want to write, punk. You’ll take any distraction. 

But he did want to write—really! He hadn’t been lying to Alex—there had been signs. Signs all around! 

Forget the signs, bitch!

But even forgetting the signs, there was something new simmering within him that made him believe it to be true. Motivation? Inspiration? Pick an -ation. He did want to write, he did, he did!

Achilles walked to the kitchen and made a pot of tea and bought himself another 10 minutes. 

He returned to his desk. 

No ideas came to mind. 

He had told Elliott once that he had rarely suffered from writer’s block. That was clearly a lie. 

Although, perhaps, it really just depended on how one defined writer’s block.

He had simply chosen to stop writing of his own accord—yes, after all that business with Eddie Bloomsbury, his decision to stop writing had been exactly that: a decision. An active choice. 

Hadn’t it? 

No… be honest with yourself, Achilles Desrosiers… 

The truth of the matter was, he’d tried to write again. After Apparition, after Eddie Bloomsbury’s negative review that still haunted his dreams. He’d been in his last week at rehab, lying under snow white sheets in a bedroom purposefully decked in the most calming of neutral tones, when a story had occurred to him. It had been the middle of the night, and he had bolted to his desk, fumbled in the dark for a pen to jot the idea down so that it wouldn’t escape in the night.

And yet, when he woke the next morning and read over the post-it note scribble, he’d thought that, perhaps, the idea didn’t wasn’t quite as good as he had thought it to be just hours before. In fact, it was rather terrible, and there was really no point in putting in the effort to turn it into something. What had he been thinking? Bad ideas all around. He wasn’t cut out for this, clearly. 

The whole series of events had annoyed him at the time. And then it had really pissed him off. 

But his writer’s block hadn’t caused his depression. No, it’d been the other way around, he understood that now—after all, when was the last time he’d really been motivated to write?

Sure, there had been that brief moment during the Summer, but it had been an outlier—a little blip spurred by an out-of-the-ordinary good mood. Yes, the last time, he’d actually really, genuinely enjoyed it had been during his old Henry Spector days. It’d been the last time he’d been able to actually churn out something halfway decent. Had been the last time he’d genuinely wanted to even churn out something at all. 

After Apparition, after Eddie Bloomsbury—looking back, he’d been a bit burnt out even before he’d written that garbage book, but after—well, of course things had taken a nosedive down to rock bottom for a bit. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to write in rehab. 

Sure, things had gotten better there, with his therapist and his medication, but he had still been floundering, gasping for air. He had still felt alone, had still felt worthless, and any remaining creative and emotional energy he’d managed to cobble together had been snuffed out over the years at BRLO. 

By the time he moved to Stardew Valley, all he had had left were his regrets—leaving his family and friends for the southern coast, the years he’d put in at an ad agency he’d hated, his decision to publish a novel he had known wasn’t good, his decision to give up. 

No wonder his mind had been so overwhelmingly starved for some kind of distraction, something new. It had been ready to accept that his ambitions would likely forever remain unrealized; his mind had been ready to move on. But his heart had refused to let it go. 

He had been holding on so, so tightly to his pride and his excuses and his envy and his impossible expectations and—as Alex had so wisely once surmised—what he thought he wanted, rather than taking a step back to take another, better look—to reevaluate and listen and accept that, perhaps the constant stream of mental roadblocks should’ve been a sign in and of itself that something wasn’t quite right. That there was surely more to him than his early string of successes and his subsequent stream of failures. 

As Elliott had said yesterday, he needed to let it all go if he wanted peace. 

And he could, now. He knew he could. A season ago—hell, a year ago—it would’ve been impossible for him.

But though he knew the lows would continue to come and go, he knew he was stronger now, more willing to ask for help, more willing to listen, and most of all, more self-aware than he had been in a long, long time. 

He lit all the candles in his bedroom, including the ones in storage (buying himself yet another ten minutes), before returning to his desk chair. Lavender and rose, eucalyptus and bergamot, vanilla spice and jasmine. Sea salt and orange. He closed his eyes and breathed it all in. 

*****

It was nearly 2 o’clock when he finally managed to crank out a sentence—but by the time sunset had rolled around, he had found that he had filled a little over half a dozen of pages. It was shitty, and it was rough, but, as he told Voltaire while heating up both their dinners, it had been done. 

The art of letting go. 

Hmm. That would make for a good post it note on his mirror. 

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Share the dream babe. I sleep like a rock, don’t dream, and need to live vicariously.

damn that’s tough, I don’t dream a lot either but this was from a quick nap LMAO

OKAY I just want to say this was a DREAM nothing more. This shit’s not possible but bitch can a girl dream. @tvrgvryen babe you wanted to hear it so, here it is 💛🥲

SO I was with TGC in like those old shopping centres like first built in the early 2000s (very specific) and we’re just walking around like a normal couple, you know holding hands and shit. Then there was like this Blockbuster and we went to pick up some films to watch together, and we noticed this man like advertising something and all these couples heading to the back where he was. Tom was like “let’s go see babe” like begging me to go with him, and I eventually cave in.

This is where it gets weird…

So the product the guy was selling was literally a video or this tape that if you watch it you’re guaranteed to have the BEST LIKE UNEARTHLY sex ever. And Tom sees all these people just buying it, and then the guy goes “it’ll make the guys have fun & your girlfriend very fertile.” And me being me, I was like “Tom this is a scam” trying to drag him by his arm, but he was like let’s try and immediately buys it.

We then race back to our apartment and Tom immediately puts the tape on, I’m trying to put shit away but he lifts me over his shoulder and puts me down on the couch, right when the tape starts playing.

YALL WHEN I TELL YOU I CACKLED THIS NEXT PART WHEN I WOKE UP.

this shit was literally just all these like boring, 90s type of ads playing of food, like chocolate and sweets and chicken. It was so fucking weird but we both just sat and watched thinking it would be over soon and that’s when the real shit happens. The longer we waited we got into this like trance. 5 mins later, I look over at Tom and he looks back at me…

WHEN I TELL YOU I LEAPED ONTO HIS LAP, IM TELLING YOU I FUCKING LEAPT.

I was grinding so hard on his pants and he’s desperately trying to undo everything. We’re just fucking making out, tongues and all, pulling his hair and his fucking motorboating my tits.

Finally we get his pants off, and I must’ve been wearing like a really short dress, and he literally rips apart my thong and shoved his dick so fucking deep into my cunt, I swear I felt something for like a split second bitch. Anyways he’s like DESPERATE, like literally thrusting up into me, his cock fucking THROBBING. And it was weird it was like I could see us fucking from afar, like out of body.

And I can see him grabbing my ass cheeks. But his fucking groans….. ughhhhhh like it was DEEP BITCH.

Then he pins me down onto the couch so I’m laying and he’s on top & he’s still fucking raw dogging it. I’m literally moaning and screaming his name, and I’m pretty sure I called him Aegon but like he wasn’t phased funnily enough.

Then like it spans to him fucking me up the wall, like my back is against it, and he’s keeping me up with his cock still in me and his thighs supporting me and his arms holding my thighs. Still fucking raw dogging it.

Mind you those fucking ads and cheerful songs are playing in the background, it gave me like those sex pollen fanfic vibes.

ANYWHO it sort of like time jumped and he’s back on the couch like finally coming to senses and it must’ve been a full week of this non stop sex, cause our house plants look wilted and the food that was out was off now. Like he even slept with his cock in me, tiny thrusts during the night, like a dog HAHAHAH.

And I took like a pregnancy test cause I came out of it earlier than he did, so when I saw he was back to his normal self. I sat beside him and was like “I’m pregnant”, and he was just nodding and smiling, his hand gripping my thigh, and he goes “it actually worked”.

AND THAT WAS IT!!!! Didn’t even get to the domestic part 😭😭😭😭

I couldn’t take myself serious when I woke up 🤭

PS THIS IS WHAT HE LOOKED LIKE IN THE DREAM JUST FYI

[forthesabbystans]

rating emails i can’t send fwd’s new deluxe tracks <33

Disclaimer: I am in no way a musical professional that would be suited to rank these songs properly. However, these ratings are purely based on my personal opinions and what I enjoy listening to in a song. 

To start, this ranking is inspired by a tweet I saw by @betubrina explaining how perfect the deluxe soundtrack is, which I totally agree with! I’m also just excited to rank the new songs in preparation for Sabrina’s concert next month!!

link to the tweet: https://twitter.com/betubrina/status/1637618501853511680?s=20

1. “opposite”

At number one we have “opposite.” Just like the entirety of emails i can’t send, this song is filled with so much raw emotion. The first time I listened to it, it made me want to cry because of how much heart Sabrina put into it. Once Sabrina got to the chorus, her vocals put me in a trance. The background effects also makes it sound like she is in an echoey bathroom (as visualized in the official audio video on YouTube). The visual adds to the meaning of the song too. I believe “opposite” describes the story of being a stand-in person to fill the void of someone wanting to be loved, but you know in reality that you are not their ideal. So you keep dwelling on the things you can change about yourself just for them to ‘love’ you. Therefore, in the visual, it symbolizes the scrutiny that Sabrina puts on herself when staring at her reflection in the bathroom. I think this song is placed at number one because it resonates with me the most about the constant comparison to other people. Her voice also evoked so much emotion to me with just the first listen. 

 https://youtu.be/60lgs2aaiRo

2. “Feather”

I love this song so much! I was actually contemplating between “opposite” and “Feather” as number one. However, this song just screams a dance bop to me. Her confidence in the song emits such positive energy, and lyrically, feather fits perfectly with the production and diction she uses like in “Floatin’ through the memories.”

https://youtu.be/asew9BF1wdw

3. “things i wish you said”

“things i wish you said” is yet another sad song, but it adds it’s a new twist to the somberness. It feels more nostalgic to me because Sabrina references past experiences that she wishes were said to her during those times. However, it’s bittersweet because Sabrina is accepting the fact that she will never hear those words; so it would probably only be something she would hear in her dreams. I think the production also adds to this because it sounds like she is singing a lullaby before going to bed with her sweet, gentle voice. 

https://youtu.be/GU562HALgJY

4. “Lonesome”

“Lonesome” is sadly placed in fourth for this ranking because it simply did not appeal to me like the last three songs did. I thought it was interesting how the opening sounds like something straight out of a western movie, but I felt like the song did not go anywhere. It felt too stagnant for me and didn’t build where I thought it could. However, the opening lines, “If I fall in love with all my problems, will they leave me too?/Or maybe I believed in all your lies 'cause I believed in you” do strike a nerve because it stings knowing how much you have been lied to when you trusted that person with your entire being. 

https://youtu.be/d7jrtkbRptM

Overall, I love all the songs off of emails i can’t send and emails i can’t send fwd, and I think that the deluxe songs were perfectly implemented into the album. Hopefully, you guys also can relate to my ranking choices! ♡

[readingintomymelancholia-blog]

This day and the next

My energy is drained this day. I went to the grocery to buy some stuff. A lot of the products and aisles took my energy as they reminded me of you.

The chips that you know I like and your favorite chips, that Eucalyptus roll tube that I gave you, that booze that we used to drink and used the Electric Kettle as the pitcher as the actual pitcher is unavailable in the place you rented for us, and a lot of them that made me feel like crying. Also, the aisles made me remember all the things we did in between when no one was around. a very quick slap of those parts of our bodies, held hands while browsing, and held hands while pushing the cart. I felt all of those.

I directly went to the alcohol section to buy some booze for me for later. I need those to numb myself as this day and the next will be a tough one. A lot of emotions will be felt, a lot of memories will be re-lived, a lot of tears will fall. 

Once I arrived home buying groceries, I broke down immediately. I never thought I would survive that but I did. Feeling relieved that I’m out of that supermarket. Because it really took all the energy I stored for myself to carry on today.

Tonight, I’ll drown myself on the Soju and vodka I bought. I wouldn’t want to but I know I need to. ‘cause it made me feel nothing and unforcefully suppressing my feelings is the only way I feel genuinely happy and whole. Feeling nothing is the best feeling for me recently because with the feeling of nothingness, I can put any feelings that I want. I can feel esctatic, happy, and anything but not sadness and deep despair. 

I am not lying to myself by doing that. I know to myself that I miss you and I long for you. But that does not change the fact that you are gone. I am trying to be strong but I am not, really. Lately I have been eating less and almost no energy at all. It’s like I am in a trance. I want to do something but I can’t. I don’t have the energy to do so. I needed this vacation leave because I already have zero energy to give for my work. Imagine clocking in and crying, clocking out and crying work week long. It’s tiring and it drained me so much.

Tomorrow is a different day, different hell. Same old tears, same old pain. How could someone break you so much you are never the same? How could someone you value hurt you the best way possible? How could someone you trust put you to a hell like this?

[theyoutubedork]

Dressing Room

Bucky x reader one shot

PART 2 IS NOW AVAILABLE!

Word Count: 2.9k+

MASTERLIST, REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR BUSINESS

Summary: Y/N hates that she has to dress the way Zemo requires, but Bucky makes it all worth it. (Based off of tfatws episode 3: Spoilers ahead!)

Warning: Y/N gets very stupid with love. Swearing, mentions of violence. SMUT 18+

GIF isn’t mine.

A/ N: God writing while high is such a vibe. Especially calming for my ADHD. Also I’m glad y’all loved the sneak peak. I’m kinda proud of this one.

“How am I supposed to hide a gun when I’m wearing this?!” You yell at Zemo, already tired of his slimy nature. Zemo was trying to get you to change into one of the most skimpy pieces of clothing you had ever seen.

“Y/N, come on, it’s imperative we look exactly like the people we’re playing,” Zemo hushed you, but you bite back even louder. Your voice reverberates throughout the small cabin of the plane.

“Oh? Is it it imperative I look like a fucking prostitute?” You scowl at him. Zemo, stills before giving you what appears to be a yes with just a tilt of his head. You scoff, “REALLY?”

“Y/N-“ you hear Sam start, but you quickly interrupt him,

“Shut up Sam! At least your two “characters” have names!” You fight back, pointing at Sam and Bucky. “You might as well put a sticky note with the word ‘Whore’ on my fucking forehead!” You say, flailing your arms dramatically. You reluctantly snatch the duffel bag that Zemo miraculously has for you, and you stalk over to the bathroom.

“Now, if you boys need me, I’ll be in my dressing room,” you scoff, opening the small door and slamming it shut loudly. You look down at the dress you have draped over your arm. You raise it between your hands. It was a dress, no, a cloth, made entirely out out iridescent crystals, that you couldn’t help but gawk at. You will be wearing thousands of dollars on your body by the looks of it. Ok, maybe you’re an escort, not a prostitute. You find a small makeup bag inside the duffel, and find products you have actually used before. Zemo definitely did some research, probably having someone hack into your computer to see what products you use. He surprisingly got your foundation shade just right, and you scoff. You reluctantly look at your reflection in the dingy mirror. You sigh, ready to be extremely uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

You can practically feel the three men’s stare as you exited the bathroom. You were covered head to toe in crystals, from the stoned heels to the hairband that is loosely collecting your hair at the top of your head. You can especially feel Bucky’s gaze, his jaw incredibly tense when you lazily looked over at him. The intensity of his stare, made your anger only fizzle out for a moment to be replaced by embarrassment, but quickly returns when you see Zemo’s smug expression.

After a prolonged silence, you clear your throat, annoyed.

“Ok, maybe I should actually charge people, because this,” You gesture to all three men ogling you with a single pan of your finger, “is fucking ridiculous,” All three men break out of the trance quickly, Sam and Zemo muttering quick apologies while Bucky just shifts uncomfortably is his seat. You sit in the open seat across from Zemo, dropping the duffel bag at your feet. You quickly lean over to Bucky, trying to say your next sentence with as much seriousness you can muster without getting flustered.

“I need you to go watch my back, cause I can’t hide my guns for shit in this thing,” you say, and Bucky lets out a sharp exhale in amusement. He looks up at you, with his cerulean eyes, almost making your legs turn into jelly.

“Course doll, I always got your back,” He says with a small smile, trying to reassure you.

“Thanks Buck,” you say, giving him a slight squeeze on his shoulder before returning to your seat.

All sittting there in silence wasn’t out of the ordinary. However, you stealing multiple glances from Bucky, was definitely out of the ordinary. In the span of ten minutes, his lips were swollen pink, after biting his lip continuously from just looking at you. You didn’t know what to do with this information. You’ve spent the last three months, crushing on him so hard that anything he does makes you dizzy.

You never thought Bucky biting into a plum would have you clenching your thighs together, while sitting at the kitchen counter, but it did. You remember Sam giving you a very confused look. Staring at him usually led to inappropriate thoughts. You could stare at that man all good damn day. But here he was, staring at you.

You don’t have any idea why.

*

Now walking along an unnamed bridge over an unnamed river, your feet are already starting to feel sore. You were long past your days of kicking ass in heels. You do not know why you did that so often. As Zemo was giving Sam the information of his character, you almost fall right on your ass due to one of your heels falling into a small pothole. Thankfully Bucky catches you, with a quick wrap of his arm around yours. You feel your body tense when you realize how close Bucky pulled you towards him. You could almost feel his breath on your neck—oh wait he’s looking at you. Fuck he’s looking at you. He lets out a small huff of amusement. His breath fans your cheeks and you feel it sting like fire. In a good way.

“You alright there Doll?” He smirks at you. You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah. You try walking in these shoes. You won’t be laughing then.” You retort, and he lets out a small chuckle. Oh man, you were being funny. Funny to Bucky. That was a rare sight.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” he says with a small grin on his face. You huff at him,

“Mhmm..sure...” you say with a returning smile. Bucky laughs, shaking his head before leading you to the car, that you assume is your ride.

You automatically make all the men fill the backseat while you sit in the passenger seat with the driver who was very kind to you, given what you were wearing. All three men tried to fight you on it, but when you reasoned, “I’m a woman wearing six inch things of death, and you’re not”, there wasn’t much argument after that.

You finally arrive at lowtown. You had refused to be Zemo’s plaything, so you gladly accepted Sam’s hand as you got out of the car. The streets of Low Town are covered in a slight purple fog. You all get onto the pedestrian ramp, that leads to the lower level, where the club that you’re infiltrating is. Sam rests a reassuring hand on the small of your back, keeping you steady as you walk down the rain covered steps. You see countless, thieves, dealers, any sort of criminal you could think of, was there. You look up to see the sign of the club you are approaching. The neon purple sign glows with the image of a growling gorilla.

As you enter the club, you immediately feel many pairs of eyes on you and the rest of your group. You hear Zemo address Bucky in Russian, and you look back to Bucky, who is wearing the signature scowl on his face. Your heart sinks at the sight of a man who has worked so hard to escape his past, having to pretend to be under Zemo’s control. Again. You even hear a man say, “Is that the winter soldier?”

The four of you approach the bar, Sam’s hand still resting on the small of your back. You see the burly bartender approach you.

“Hello, gentlemen, miss,” he grumbles, nodding in your direction. You give him a flirtatious smile, falling into your character. He looks at Sam suspiciously.

“Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger,” he says with a slightly threatening tone. Zemo gives a tight lipped smile.

“His plans have changed. We have business to do. With Selby.” He explains. The bartender shifts his gaze, scanning the four of you before looking at Sam.

“The usual?” He asks, and Sam gives him a curt nod. He turns his head away, but you keep your gaze locked on the bartender, curious. You see him reach into a jar and pull out a fucking dead snake, and you have to fight the slight gag that rises in your throat. Sam finally notices the snake with wide eyes. The bartender starts cutting the snake open, and Zemo lets out a small laugh.

“Ah...Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” He says, subtly telling Sam to man up. You let out a small laugh under your breath. Watching as Sam takes the shot from the bartender. He struggles to get it down. You look over at Bucky, who you can immediately tell is trying fight off a grin. You watch the bartender walk away as another man approaches from behind Zemo.

“I got word from on high, you ain’t welcome here.” He says, glaring at Zemo.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me...” he gestures over to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The man teases.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finishes, staring down the man. The man walks away.

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky scoffs.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Oh that’s comforting,” You let out a small laugh, slightly uncomfortable.

“Do you know him?” Sam asks.

“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

“Sounds like a nice guy,” you say, leaning your elbows on the bar to alleviate some of the pain rocketing through your ankles.

You hear Zemo call Bucky to action, and you see Bucky grab onto a random man, twisting his arm. You see Bucky immediately go into action, knocking down men left and right. You let a hand come up to your mouth, trying to hide the sad look on your face. It hurt to see Bucky fight with such malice.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo comments, and you give him a nasty look. When Bucky takes the man and throws him onto the bar, metal arm clutching his neck, You hear multiple guns cocking. You nervously glance at the three men.

Sam reaches an arm out to Bucky.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo warns, before telling Bucky to let go.

“Selby will see you now,” The bartender says.

*

Not even 10 minutes later you are running for your life. Selby is now dead, and you guys are now being shot at by everyone in Madripoor.

“I cant run in these heels!” Sam yells and you yell right back,

“Oh shut the fuck up Sam!” You yell and you feel your foot slip, your ankle slightly twisting, making you cry out in pain. Bucky quickly reacts, grabbing your hand to help guide you out of the crossfire. If you weren’t being shot at, you might’ve actually blushed.

You quickly round the corner, and you hear gunshots, thankfully not aimed at you. You look to see Zemo rounding the corner.

“Seems that you have a guardian angel.”

“Well this seems too perfect. Drop the weapon Zemo,” you hear a female voice say. You see Sharon Carter round the corner. Fuck.

*

“When Sharon said she had a place in High Town, I wasn’t really expecting this,” you mumble under your breath, which Bucky hums in agreement to. He was still holding onto you, just like before on the bridge. You could smell a hint of his cologne, you didn’t know fragrances for shit, but it flooded your senses and made your body electrify like a guarded fence.

You make your way into Sharon’s place, and Sam immediately starts chewing Sharon out. You look around at at the pieces of art she has on display.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.”

“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I can get for a real Monet?”

“Easy, deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.”

“Oh I don’t think she does Sam,” You say, pausing to look at one of the paintings.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo corrects.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky adds to the conversation.

“Okay, guys. I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly that good old Sam.”

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky says, trailing past him, you still being held firm by his grip. You laugh at Bucky’s comeback, squeezing his forearm slightly.

“No shit,”

“Come on you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon calls out.

“Thank god! I am tired of wearing this stupid dress,” you grumble. Bucky lets out a small laugh,

“That’s what you think,” you hear him say under his breath, and you look up at him. He looks at you with a sly grin. You turn your head away, your face as hot as the sun.

*

As you were just starting to take off your heels, you hear a small knock on the door. Sharon had given you a private room to get ready in, so you weren’t expecting any visitors. You quickly kick off the heels, your bare feet padding across the wooden floor. You open the door to see Bucky, who is now changed into a fitting black suit. His eyes rake down your body. He seems to be happy that you’re still wearing the dress.

“Can I help you with something Buck?” You tease, making his eyes finally meet yours. He clears his throat before looking at you.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I saw you hurt your ankle earlier.”

You heart flutters at his show of concern. You also remember the way his fleshed hand held yours.

“Oh its fine, just rolled it out of place a bit. Should be fine,” You say and Bucky nods his head along, and you can tell he’s holding something back. You finally start to piece together the glances Buck has been giving you all day.

“Was there something else you need?” You say with a small smirk, approaching Bucky, nearly chest to chest, his face inches from yours. You know what he wants, he just has to make the first move. You see his tongue dart out to wet his lips, scanning your face. His eyes finally look towards your lips.

“Uh yeah...” He mumbles, barely comprehending the world around him. He’s already so lost in you and he hasn’t even touched you.

“Jesus Christ, I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Just kiss me already Bucky,” You say and he immediately complies. He crashes his lips onto yours, pushing you out of the doorway so he could shut the door. You let out a small whine as he presses your body against the door, kissing you with such ferocity. You finally have Bucky all to yourself, so you don’t let him take control too quickly. Your hands rise to his shoulders, helping him ditch his jacket so you can dig your fingernails into his fleshed arm. He lets out a small groan, but when you motion to have him help take off your dress, he halts, taking his lips from where they now rested on your neck.

“No..you’re keeping this on,” he demands, sinking to his knees, his hands gliding underneath the dress. Not to take it off, but to feel your soft skin under his. He looks up at you. Your head is firmly pressed against the doorway, already blissed out from Bucky barely doing anything. Your body was shaking with anticipation.

“Bucky...please,” you whine, begging him to help you with the aching between your legs.

“Don’t worry doll, I’m gonna take care of you. You just need to be quiet for me.” He speaks lowly, waiting for the nod of your head before grabbing the thong you were wearing and pulling it down so it pools at your feet. You quickly step out and Bucky takes one of your legs and puts it on his left shoulder, the cool metal of his shoulder making shivers run up right to your core.

Bucky takes a moment to bask in your radiance. He has never seen someone so beautiful, so ready for him to do whatever he pleases. He feels his cock twitch in his jeans at the sight. He finally takes a small lick at your center, and you let out a shuddered breath. He scoots closer to you, burying his tongue in your entrance as he does, as you let out a low whine.

“Quiet princess, or I’ll stop,” he orders. Your heart races at his words. In all the nights you spent, imagining how Bucky would make love to you, you never expected him to be so vocal.

Without warning, he takes his free hand and pushes his index finger into you. You back arches as he brings his tongue to your clit, making slow circles around it. You grip at his hair, digging your nails into his scalp, making his let out a low groan, feeling it vibrate against your sex. It feel heavenly having Bucky make you fall apart, and he does it with incredible speed and ease. He pushes a second finger, and curls his fingers up, brushing against your most sensitive spot. You immediately shatter above him, letting out a silent scream as you cum. Bucky has to hold you up as you ride out your orgasm, giving you loving kisses on the inside of your thighs.

Once you came down, he rose again, capturing your lips with his. You taste your sweetness on his tongue and you let out another small whine. He pulls away reluctantly, before moving you so he can exit. You look at him with a pout on your face. He chuckles.

“Sorry Doll, can’t be late to the party. Get changed.” He says with a smirk.

“This isn’t over Bucky,”

“Promise doll, I said I’ll take care of you.” He reassures, giving you one last, chaste kiss before exiting the room. You sigh in both frustration and happiness.

Maybe those heels were worth it.

Part 2

[subwaysurf45]

Back Into the Swing of Things

summary: Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war)

words:  3355

warning: legit none just fluff!

pairing: bucky x reader

Masterlist

You were sat at the little desk in your room, your music was blasting through your headphones as you nodded your head to the beat. It was paperwork day, the worst day. For some reason it was a busy time or missions which meant mission reports, you liked to just bang them out all at once for one day every couple of weeks. Some people did them right after but the little notes you take in your journal allow you to wait a bit and then do five at once. The plate that used to have a sandwich was now empty, Bucky brought it by because he knew it was your day and if he stayed around you it would most likely lead to Bucky trying to pull you into bed for snuggles. He’d claim you’d look too cozy to be doing work, you'd wear one of his shirts and maybe some pants.

With a sigh you lean back in your chair, a couple pops coming for your back. “Four outta five…” you muttered to yourself as you took the papers and stacked them on the other reports. As you reached for the final one there was a knock on the door, “come in, Bucky.” You called over your shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Bucky slipped through the doorway, he walked over and spun your chair around.

“Your knock is very polite,” was all you said. It was true, he’d knock loud enough to be heard but not too loud to seem demanding.

“Thanks…?” Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, “I wanted to ask you something,” Bucky looked to the floor.

“Talk to me,” You cheered and gave your full attention.

“I have a list of things in my notebook, just stuff I don't get- like understand. Would you mind helping and explaining some stuff?” His face was red and his eyes looked down, it was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

“Sure,” You shrugged and Bucky smiled. He got up and went to get the book.

Debit Card Machine 

Bucky was sitting across from you at a small diner, you went after rush hour to give yourself space and also Bucky doesn’t like crowded and loud spaces. Bucky had gotten a B.L.T. and you got something similar but you’d never been here before so you weren’t exactly sure what was in it- but it was good.

The waitress came by, the uniform was very retro like the rest of the place. It wasn’t way back to the 40’s more late 80’s early 90’s, Bucky had said he liked coming here because of the jukebox even though that was way past his time. He found it easier than an iphone, which was on his list of things to learn.

“Coffee or tea?” the lady asked.

“No, just the bill please,” You smiled at her, she nodded and walked away. Bucky got up and moved to sit beside you because he didn’t want to learn by looking at the thing upside down, the debit card itself was slightly conquered territory but he had the idea.

“And you said this was on your phone as well?” Bucky picked up the card and looked at it, his fingers running over the numbers that were lifted.

“You have to connect your card and all that to your phone so you just hover over the machine and it’ll pay.” You mimed the action of paying with your phone over nothing for Bucky to get the gist.

The machine showed up and you explained all the buttons, the waitress seemed confused because Bucky looked your age, she would have expected a guy to know how this works but she also kept her distance like most waitresses do.

“So you put your card in, the chip end goes in,” you showed. “Then you make sure the price matches the one on the receipt, if it does then you hit ‘ok’,” you did hit ‘ok’. “Then you have to tip, I personally go the percentage route so I’d click the far left button,” It made a sound when you did. “Now, depending on the service you can tip a different amount, I go fifteen percent as a baseline but she was really nice so I’ll tip twenty.” you typed it in, Bucky had a shocked face.

“Twenty dollars, that’s another meal!” He whispered, trying not to let the lady hear; she did.

“Twenty percent, our total goes from eighteen-tirty to twenty-forty five,” You showed the number again, then you clicked okay and proceeded to type in your four digit number. Bucky watched over your shoulder and tried to remember it all, when you were showing things at home he’d take notes and have a couple diagrams to remember it all but his notebook was no longer in sight. You glanced down after giving the machine back to see him rolling the book onto itself under the table, Bucky shoved it into his back pocket when you both got up to leave.

“Do you mind going over it again when we get home?” Bucky asked as he held your hand, the Avenger tower in sight.

“Of course,” you left a little kiss on his cheek.

Cooking Bacon

You didn’t remember reading this when you first went over the list. Granted, there was tons of stuff on Bucky’s list. It seemed he added it on later, like he watched Wanda cook and had a little idea to add. Either way, you both were in the kitchen in front of the stove. You both had aprons on, yours was a nice navy blue while Bucky’s read: ‘kiss the cook’. He wanted the navy one but then lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.

The pan was heating up on the stove, you had the lid ready beside it on the counter. Bucky seemed nervous because of the idea of the grease spitting out at him, he was starting to stand slightly behind you or away from the stove in an area he thought he wouldn’t get hit. “Alright,” you clapped your hands together after feeling over the pan to check the temperature. “We are gonna cook four pieces, so I’m gonna take them out of the package,” You were careful around the stove because Bucky seemed extremely nervous for you. He kept making little ‘peep’ing noises like he was about to say ‘watch out’ or something but decided against it, it was cute.

You put in two and then Bucky came over to put the others in, he was so leaned back he could barely get the bacon strips into the pan. On the last strip he haphazardly dropped it in, this caused the grease to spray back. A couple bits landed on your arm but a few more hit Bucky.

“Fuck!” He jumped back as you went to cover it quickly. The lid steamed up in seconds. Bucky was at the sink, washing his arm off. “Does it, like, burn through stuff?”  His tone was so concerned but you couldn't help but laugh at the question.

“No, you’re safe,” you nodded. Bucky came back over and stood right behind you, his chin nestled on your shoulder as you waited a bit. His arms circled around your torso and he also watched the pan, he didn’t know what to look for per se, but he did it anyways. “This should be good,” you stepped forward which caused Bucky to let go. “We’re gonna lift the lid and start to flip them, alright?” You grabbed the tongs and clicked them a few times, it was a thing you always did.

“Let’s go,” Bucky’s voice wanted to sound excited but he was slightly scared.

You lifted the lid and stood off to the side, quickly but calmly you flipped the pieces over and then covered the lid. “So, we give that time, then we'll take the lid off and just move them around and flip them more, you can do that,” You smiled over your shoulder to see Bucky writing something down. It was cute how much he cared about the little things, you’d never been taught how to cook bacon or cooking in general, it was something you just found yourself doing.

Bucky took the tongs and went for it, he lifted the lid and went straight into flipping them. After he found they weren’t spitting back he seemed to loosen up, his shoulders rolled back and he seemed to find a comfortable position. He was looking over to you for any tips but you stood there with a smile on your face, he was actually doing a good job.

You got out a plate and paper towel, Bucky transferred the strips over. He watched you pat them down with a paper towel, this was something you adopted into your life because you weren’t the biggest fan of all the grease.

“This is a big part, so listen up,” Bucky looked over from eating one of his two pieces. “Write this down, never and I mean never pour this grease down the sink- ever.” Bucky had the piece of meat sticking out of his mouth as he scribbled it down, he hummed and nodded to let you know he got it. “There is a can under the sink, grab it for me, please?” You picked up the pan but stayed over the stove, Bucky came back with an open can. There was nothing in it except congealed grease, he seemed grossed out but you were used to it. “Dump it in here after it’s cool but not solidified, just don’t pour it down the sink.” You poured the stuff in and left it on the counter to cool off, Bucky finally bit down on the piece of bacon before handing over your two pieces.

“I think that went well,” Bucky nodded, he leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. You didn’t have to heart to make fun of him for being scared of the grease, he seemed proud of himself. So you just stood beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, “good job, Buck.”

Skin Care

Bucky was the type of boyfriend to sit in the bathroom and just watch you put on or take off your makeup, he was truly put under a trance when he would watch you. In the beginning he’d ask questions or ask what you were doing and why, but now he had watched you so much he’d pass you the tube of mascara as you finished on your brows.

Your skin had adapted to a long and specific routine, this was your time for about ten minutes before bed to fully unwind and have some quiet. You would rotate products and skip over some of the serums each night but there were the basics you were going to teach Bucky: Wash, tone, moisturize.

Before you went to the drug store you asked Bucky about his skin, he really had no idea what you were talking about and half the time he’d shrug it off. “I don’t pay attention to my skin,” was a common phrase. You lightly touched his face and felt his T-zone, he joked that sometimes if he opened his mouth really wide his skin would feel super tight and dry.

“So then you have dry skin,” you said. Thinking of the products to get him, Bucky didn’t have acne, it was more for cleaning the skin and keeping it healthy.

“I think,” Bucky really felt like a pain. He was trying to help you out so you could find good products but all he was giving was half answers, ‘ya, I guess’ or ‘I think so’.

But currently you both were standing in the bathroom, it was right before bed and Bucky adjusted his headband for about the hundredth time. He said it was too tight but you knew he was being a baby about it, his hair was also pulled back into a bun.

“We are gonna wash our face,” You showed how warm the water should be before splashing your face. Bucky copied right after, and awkwardly leaned forward to make sure water didn’t drip on the floor after while he waited for you to move on. “Now we are gonna wash our face, so take that bottle with the blue cap and put a bit in your hand. A little goes a long way,” You added and did the same, both faces in the bathroom were sudsy and ready. Bucky went in first to wash it off, his hands cupping under the tap and collecting as much water as he could before leaning right in to wash off his face. He did it twice.

“Pat dry?” He remembered you saying that before. His hands held the fresh towel, you hummed in response because your face was in water. Bucky patted and gently rubbed around, when you stood up you dried off as well. Both faces were damp, Bucky looked at the little water droplets running down your neck before turning back to the task at hand. “Toner- don't tell me, I know this one!” He grabbed your arm, “red cap?” His face lit up with joy as you nodded, “I got this!” He cockily laughed, he knew what he was doing.

Bucky took the little cotton round and drizzled some of the toner around on it, he passed one over to you before making one for himself. Bucky leaned in and got super close to the mirror, he watched intently as you rubbed your face. He copied, it was like the cotton pad was barely touching his face. The last thing he cleaned was his nose before pulling the cotton away, he scanned over the pad and saw the gross residue.

“Ew, that was on my face?” Bucky was enchanted by the pad, holding it super close to see the leftover dirt. You had already thrown away the pad, it made you giggle to see Bucky so hypnotized by literal oil and dirt.

“Moisturizer, final step for you,” You sang. “I like to pick it up with my knuckle, like this,” You unscrewed the lid and tapped your pointer finger knuckle to the opaque, soft cream. Bucky took his new one and did the same. He wiped it into the palm of the opposite hand, “rub it around, heat it up before putting it on,” He did just that. “You’re a pro, Buck!” You giggled as Bucky meticulously put it on. He was applying it upwards and spreading it evenly around, his fingers gently dancing across his face as the cream worked its way in.

“How do I look?” He turned to you.

“Like you’re glowing.”

“I feel like it,” Bucky laughed and looked back at the mirror. He tilted his head around to see how his skin would look under the light in the bathroom, he seemed to forget you were there and was completely in awe of what he did. Bucky brought his fingers to his face to feel around, the moisturizer had set and now his skin looked full and plump. The pads of his fingers gently tapped his cheeks and made the shimmer on his cheekbones move and twinkle.

“Alright, that’s enough admiring yourself,” you laughed and pushed him out of the way. Bucky stayed to watch you finish up your routine.

Record Player

As a way to say thanks for helping Bucky with over fifty niche things, Bucky decided to teach you how to properly use a record player.

This wasn’t any old player, this was Bucky’s player. No one was allowed to touch it without permission and even though you have never gotten the green light, you asked almost every week. This was one of the only things Bucky could really hold onto, when he touched the dark, stained wood he could almost see himself back in the 40’s; almost.

He once got really mad at the beginning of your friendship, you really didn’t know it was his, you just thought it was a talking piece. Bucky ended up yelling at you, he had just changed the needle and you were running your finger on it to see how small it was. Steve had ran in because Bucky was yelling- it was a whole ordeal that ended with Bucky not talking to you for three months.

But now there was trust and Bucky liked that after that little fiasco you didn’t even think to touch it, he could really trust you and now was a great time to show off his favourite thing. Bucky was all giddy to show his record player off to you, you were grabbing some water before he started and you noticed Bucky was using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe off a smudge before going back to inspect it.

“Alright, let’s start!” Bucky smiled. This man didn’t start with the parts and what they do, he started with the history of it all. Bucky pulled all the facts he knew about record players in general and the vintage one that was sitting in front of the both of you, his eyes seemed to light up with each new fact that popped into his mind. Part of you wanted to check your watch but you also had never seen this man get passionate over an object before, he could get passionate over people- you, Steve, Sam, etc. -but never over this. “Are you ready to play music?” He reached over into his bin and pulled a record you’ve never seen.

“Which one’s that?” You asked as Bucky pulled it out of it’s sleeve.

“It’s just a random one I picked up a week ago for this,” Bucky held the record the proper way. “Thumb on the center and index on the edge, don’t touch the actual grooves because the oils in your hands can clog them up,” Bucky moved his hand around to show you.

“Sorry, what do you mean you bought that record for this? And why does the needle look different?” you noticed the needle looked extremely worn, it looked great and new a couple days ago.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky dismissed it. “So now we are gonna place the record softly,” Bucky placed it down and turned back to you. He talked about the arm and the needle before showing you how to put it on manually and then with the little leaver, after showing them each way twice he stepped back and offered you a turn.

“Seems easy,” you mumbled and took the arm, you were doing it manually first. The movements were extremely soft and slow, when the needle made contact it took half a second before a really grainy sound came through the speakers. It sounded wrong but Bucky nodded, he applauded you for taking the needle off as well. Then you did it with the leaver, right when it was about to touch you thought it looked off so you nudged it a bit- bad idea. The needle didn’t even hit the record and part of the arm scratched the recessed vinyl. “Shit!” You yelled and ripped it off. Causing the record to scratch, the sound and the record itself, there was a shine to the edge. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mess it all up- I really didn’t mean to break it- god, you must so ma- I’m sorry-” as you fumbled over yourself Bucky just started to laugh. “What?” you were about to cry because of the guilt.

“That was a sixties record and a needle that is five years old, you didn't do anything. I bought it because I knew this was bound to happen.” Bucky only laughed at your exasperated sigh, you fell into his hug like a child. “Poor baby,” he mockingly cooed, he found it so funny how you were screaming apologies at him even though it was painfully obvious it was a shit record and needle.

“That was scary, I think I need a nap after that…” you sighed.

Bucky threw you over his shoulder, “thinking the same thing, doll.

[sevensins-stuff]

Hihi!! Could you do a HC with the brothers reacting to you singing love songs and playing piano late at night?

Mc in their feelings

Late night love songs💘

Deep into the night where everyone in the House of Lamentation should've been asleep, they happened to be wide awake. Restless, moreso than usual. They got out of bed and wandered the halls until they reached the open door of the music room, the piano in full view and the room empty. They walked inside and closed the door behind them before walking over to the piano and taking a seat. Before they could even think about what to play, their fingers found the keys to a familiar love song and they sung along to it with ease.

Lucifer

It wasn't every night that he got the luxury to sleep, but this was one of those rare nights

So when he heard the faint sound of the piano being played, he was maybe a little upset...a lot upset

He threw on his robe and stormed out of his room, ready to tell off whoever it was still awake at this odd hour

The closer he got to the door, however, the slower his steps became as the music became clearer and the sound of their voice broke through the door

He stopped just in front of it like he was frozen in a trance

He opened the door carefully just as the song was coming to an end and was truly taken aback at how beautiful their voice was.

Once they finished, he applauded with the smallest smile he could muster causing them to jump and turn to face him with a shocked expression

"I didn't know you were so musically inclined."

"I-I'm sorry if I woke you. I just couldn't sleep."

"I'll permit it this time, but the next time you have trouble sleeping you should come to me instead."

Mammon

He's a surprisingly light sleeper not like he's hoping you'd come to sleep with him or anything-

So once the piano started playing, his eyes popped open

He quickly hopped out of bed and pulled up some shorts before rushing over to the music room

He threw the door open and was about to yell at them, but the beautiful sound of their voice paired with their wonderful playing made him stop

However, the sound of the door bouncing off the wall distracted them

They stopped playing and turned to see Mammon frozen in the door frame and his face quickly heated up

"Did I wake you?"

"Y-yeah, ya did! Don't ya know what time it is?"

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't sleep."

"Well, you could sleep with me tonight then. You're gonna wake everyone up of ya keep goin'"

Leviathan

Bonus points if it's a song from a game of anime-

He had just finished another anime marathon, so he really wasn't asleep but he was getting there

He groaned as he tossed and turned in his tub but eventually gave up to figure out what was the cause of this late night musical

Once he made it to the door, he could hear them singing but he didn't know it was them at first

He leaned closer to the door trying to figure out who was singing

Once he figured it out though, his face deepened in a blush and he couldn't contain his excitement when he opened the door causing them to jump and look back at him

"YOU COULD SING!?"

"Y-you're still awake?"

"Oh, this reminds me of my favorite anime, "My best friend from another realm is actually an idol but I never bothered asking so I never knew!"....Are you an idol?"

"What?? No!"

Satan

He was actually starting to stir awake since he slept early that night, so waking up to a piano playing was a nice alarm choice

After checking his DDD, he quickly realized that the sound wasn't his choice

He got out of his room and followed the sound to the music room

He opened the door carefully and saw them playing like a professional and singing

Their voice is what really pulled him inside. He carefully closed the door behind him as they continued, taking care to not distract them

Once they finished, they sighed, closing the piano and lingering. Satan's soft applause pulled them out of their little trance and they turned to face him, a bit shocked

"You play wonderfully, but isn't it a little late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I just woke up. If you'd like I could read you something. It might be more productive than this."

Asmodeus

He doesn't take very kindly to anyone disturbing his beauty rest

So his eyes popping open behind his sleep mask is not a very good sign

He pulls it up over his eyes and throws on his robe before storming out of his room

He goes straight to the music room and bangs on the door

They nearly leap out of their seat and scramble to open it

"Do you know what time it is?"

"I-I'm sorry Asmo! I just couldn't sleep."

His eyes soften slightly

"Oh sweetheart, you should come sleep with me. I know just the thing to put you right out."

Beelzebub

He just happened to be the other person in the house that wasn't asleep at the time since he was roaming around in the kitchen

He heard when they started playing on the piano and it drew his attention away from the sandwich he was making

With an open bag of chips in hand, he made his way to the music room and opened the door quietly

Thanks to the naturally loud volume of the piano and their voice, he was able to eat without them noticing he was watching

When they finished his stomach immediately growled, alerting them of his presence

They turned to face an almost starstruck and embarrassed Beel

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Since you've started."

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was already up."

"Oh..."

"Can you do another one?"

Belphegor

It actually took him a while to wake up from the sound. It integrated itself into his dreams at first.

He slowly stirred awake and when he heard the song still playing he decided to investigate it

The closer he got to the door, the clearer their voice became. It was really soothing to listen to

He slid his back down the door until he sat with his knees tucked

They didn't know he was out there until they opened the door and he fell inside, waking him up

"Oh my- are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you done?"

"Y-yeah. Sorry if I woke you up earlier."

"I don't mind as long as you promise to play for me next time."

[moonlightlullaby]

no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!) 

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist. 

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is. 

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair. 

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me. 

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen. 

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is. 

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words. 

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp. 

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath. 

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds. 

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task. 

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie. 

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul. 

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n” 

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully. 

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?” 

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?” 

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered. 

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise. 

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions. 

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-” 

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.  

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen. 

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

[heezoneie]

Hi, can I request a SKZ and Enhypen legal line reaction to you doing WAP or twerking out of nowhere?

i though this one was fun to write 😆, thank you for the request! <3

group: enhypen & stray kids

member: enhypen legal line & all of stray kids

genre: crack(?), fluff, possibly suggestive at times

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

Enhypen Legal Line

Heeseung:

• you guys had been just chilling on the couch at the dorms, the other boys no where to be found.

• your head rested on heeseung’s lap as he scrolled through his phone. “hee, i’m bored” he looked down at your face upon hearing your statement.

• “well there’s not much we can do right now, maybe when the boys get back.” he stated playing with your hair.

• growing impatient, a mischievous idea popped in your head. sitting up from his lap, you go to set your phone on the tv stand directly in font of the couch.

• you were about to do a challenge that has been going around tiktok for quite a while. you were not one to do tiktok challenges very often, so this would come as a surprise for heeseung.

• seeing you stand up got heeseung curious. he watched your every move as you setup your video.

• when the familiar “WAP” began to play through your phone speakers, heeseung’s eyes widened.

• as soon as you started actually doing the dance, he would be so flustered. face beet red, but bby would not be able to take his eyes off you.

• he thought you did such a good job, even if the dance was a bit “pRoVOcAtIve” so after you finished the dance and walked over you him, he immediately buried his head in your neck.

• “that was so good baby, but try a less inappropriate dance next time? okay?”

Jay:

• you and jay were in the practice room at the company because he decided to stay back to get some extra work in.

• he asked you to come keep him company, since he didn’t want to be alone. ofc you showed up, bc who wouldn’t want to watch their boyfriend dance.

• after a while of practicing, you and jay decided to just listen to music over the speakers, until a rather seductive song came on.

• feeling bold, you decided to dance a little to it. swaying your hips side to side, twerking, anything to match the mood of the song.

• jay’s eyes darkened at the sight of you dancing like that. he didn’t know you could possibly be any sexier.

• jay watched the way your hips moved, your face, your legs. he made sure to take in every little move you were doing.

• after the song ended, he came up behind you and grabbed your hips. he pushed you against the wall and turned you to face him.

• “my pretty baby. that was rather bold to dance like that when anybody could walk in and see you.” he leaned in to your ear, “i think you should dance for me like that back home....but with less clothing.”

Jake:

• jake had just got finished with a long day of practice, and wanted nothing more than to come home to his amazing s/o.

• you however, had been lounging around the house all day. you were scrolling through your phone, when you decided you would past the time by making some tiktoks.

• you had been midway through doing the “WAP” challenge, when your boyfriend (with amazing timing) walked in.

• jake kinda just stood there flustered, not knowing what to do. he really said some “🧍‍♂️”

•getting up from the ground, you grabbed your phone and rewatched the tiktok. seeing jake’s reacting made you laugh.

• you turned around to him, where he still stood just staring at you. (bby malfunctioned)

• “jake? you good?” blinking a couple times, he finally snapped out of his daze, “OH, uh yeah i just- uhm. you were good, i just didn’t know you could dance like that.”

• smiling you went to give him a hug, “i could dance like that more if you want 😉”

•this boy d r a g g e d you back to your room with the biggest smirk on his face.

Sunghoon:

• okay, so this boy is a little 🤏 a w k w a r d

• when you stated twerking in the middle of the kitchen he didn’t know what to do

• it’s not that he didn’t like it, cause he most definitely did (possibly got a little turned on)

• it’s just he didn’t know what to do or what to say, so he kinda just...walked out?

• you followed him into the living room where he just sat on the couch thinking about what to say.

• “ you okay hoon?” he looked up from the couch, “ i need a second to process what happened.”

• after a couple of minutes of silence he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, with each of your legs on either side of him.

• “how about you do it again, but this time i want to feel you.”

Stray Kids

Chan:

• you guys were in his studio, while he was working you decided to tease him a little bit ;)

• you got off the couch and slowly walked up behind his chair. you proceeded you slowly turn his chair around to face you.

• you stared to dance/twerk very sensually in front of him. his eyes said “👀”

• he thought you looked so good, like his baby dancing for him? pure bliss.

• he watched you so closely, just admiring the way you moved your body. you put him a whole trance.

• bby chan did not know how to control himself after seeing you dance like that.

• he took of his headphones, and took you to the couch, let’s just say your teasing worked very well ;)

Minho:

• this was actually a dare you had gotten from felix. being the tiktok king he is, he dared you to do the WAP in front of minho.

• you obviously couldn’t turn down a dare, so you agreed. felix helped you plan how to make it seem less forward.

• you were gonna go into the practice room while minho was in there, and ask him if he wanted to do some tiktoks with you (you knew he was gonna say no, cause he was most likely going to be tired)

• minho enjoyed watching you do tiktoks, bc he thought you were the cutest little thing, even if he would never say it.

• he thought you were gonna do some innocent dance like the renegade or another challenge.

• when he saw you start getting on the floor and twerking his mind went completely blank.

• that was until he remembered you were filming. he immediately ran to turn off the camera.

• “that’s only for me to see baby, but could you send that video to me? for research purposes😇”

Changbin:

• changbin had called you to come hang out with him at the dorms, cause why not?

• when you got to dorms you noticed none of the other boys besides changbin himself were there.

• “where are the other boys binnie?” you asked while going to give him a hug. “i think they are all at the company, they still had some work to do.”

• after releasing from the hug, the both of you went to cuddle in bed. curling up into changbins side, you got an idea.

• “hey binnie?” he looked at you, “do you want to see a dance i learned?” surprised, he quickly nodded his head and sat up against the headboard.

• you got off the bed and began to slowly walk up to changbins side of the bed. he looked you up and down while licking his lips.

• you began to dance a special dance you made just for him. he closely watched the way you moved against the floor, and eventually the way you moved against him.

• once you finished he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, “your lucky we are the only ones home.”

Hyunjin:

• we all know this man would be so vv shocked when you started slowly twerking on him the middle of the dance room.

• ofc he loved it, but he was so surprised he pushed you off 😔

• you kinda just stood there embarrassed, like you took a bold move and failed (r.i.p y/n)

• but he eventually he pulled back by the hips, and started to move against you as well.

• he guided your hips against his, and you both were lowkey just grinding against each other in the private dance room.

• mans got super turned on, and immediately took you home where you both could have some more fun ;)

Jisung:

• bby would hype you up, he’s your personal hype man for sure.

• as soon as you started dancing for him he would be cheering you on, dancing with you, you name it.

• he would be so excited bc he just lives to match your vibe :(((

• would 100% video tape you so he can watch it later when he’s feeling sad.

• would definitely admire the way you move, and be so shocked, like he never knew his bub could dance like this???

• he would ask you to teach him the dance, and probably end up having a dance party with you.

Felix:

• this babe would join you, as soon he saw you setting up the phone. he jumped from his place on the couch.

• “Oooooo, what tiktok are we doing???” he would be so eager to make every tiktok with you, cause he love bonding with you :((

• when y’all started doing the “WAP” he got excited cause he knew the dance already. he was also excited to see you dance to it.

• probably had small naughty thoughts going through his mind while watching you, but for the most part he was happy seeing you enjoy yourself.

• when it came down to actually filming the tiktok, yall would be goofing off so much to the point you had to film it multiple times.

• just saying, the final product? y’all slayed.

Seungmin:

• okay, so i feel seungmin would act like he didn’t care, but hear me out.

• he would definitely be eyeing you the whole time your dancing, and be lowkey jamming in the background.

• but the second you look at him he’s this “😐”

• he doesn’t want you to know how much he’s actually enjoying watching you move your hips in that way.

• he would probably act annoyed, and tell you to hurry up, but would 100% love watching to dance.

• definitely sent himself the video of you dancing when you weren’t looking :)

Jeongin:

• he would, with no doubt, act disgusted. is he actually? no way.

• would absolutely NEVER let you know he really enjoyed watching you dance in a sexy form.

• would probably get embarrassed, and tell you to stop (he doesn’t actually want you to tho, he just doesn’t want anyone else to see you dancing so seductively)

• lowkey possessive, but in a cute pouty way, which is why he used the being disgusted as and excuse to get you to stop.

• would probably end up still getting turned on, and his face would turn so so red when you figured out the effect you were having on him.

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

if your requests are open dear, could I request something ? I've had J getting wounded and being an absolute dramatic mess on my mind this week and I was thinking you could turn it into a short drabble ? Maybe smutty ? Thank you eek !!

Hello anon! 💖

Oh my goodness I’m sorry this has taken me so long!! I’ve had a lot going on and my creative ability has suffered from it but I finally finished this and I hope you like it!

Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, whump

Word count: 1703

Warnings: blood (!), blood loss, injury, injured J, angry shouting, light smut

Hurt

You struggled to kick the door to your bathroom open, trying to support his much taller frame across your shoulders at the same time. The sound of his groans echoed off of the tile once you switched on the light and managed to get both of you through the doorway.

He growled and cursed loudly, almost pulling you down with him, when you dropped his arm from around your shoulders and lowered him into the bathtub. His chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths once his back settled against the porcelain, but you took no time to catch your own breath before springing to the cabinet to look for your first aid supplies.

You should have figured this day would come, when he’d show up at your door, shirt wet with blood – his blood, barely able to stand on his own and nearly incoherent. Where else could he go for help? The hospital wasn’t exactly a great option for a guy like him. And even with his reputation, no matter how notorious, he was bound to get hurt for all of the shit he stirred up. If you were smart, you thought, you would have had your first aid kit ready for action as soon as you started seeing Joker regularly. But, since a first aid kit was nowhere to be found, you had to improvise.

Cursing under your breath, you tossed towels and half-empty bottles of hair care products that never lived up to your expectations over your shoulder in search of something to clean up the blood with so that you could better assess the damage. A bar of plain soap would have to do.

Turning back toward the tub, you stopped in your tracks and stared for a moment at the sight in front of you. His face was twisted with pain and strands of his stringy green hair stuck to his brow, his greasepaint tacky from his sweat. His vest was open, and his shirt was plastered to his skin, the fabric saturated with blood. Another groan through gritted teeth snapped you out of your trance and you rushed to kneel beside the tub, reaching over the edge to loosen his tie and to start to unbutton his shirt.

Some of the buttons were sticky with a mixture of dried and fresh blood, making it even more difficult for your shaky fingers to slide them through their holes. Your eyes couldn’t open any wider than they already were as you mustered up an intense amount of concentration just to open his torn shirt, uncertain about what you were going to see and whether you’d be able to handle it. There was a lot of blood. Had he been shot? Stabbed? Mauled? It seemed you were in a similar position as Joker was, the adrenaline buzzing through your veins being the only thing keeping you conscious.

Holding your breath once the last button slipped free, you pulled the shirt open. A mixture of relief and nausea washed over you and made the sweat on your brow feel cold before you let out a sigh. A nasty gash in his side continued to ooze blood but didn’t seem to be as bad as you’d prepared yourself for. Gross, yes, but not life threatening.

“Look at you, hm? Gettin’ your hands dirty,” Joker panted before letting out another groan and squeezing his eyes shut when a giggle tugged painfully on his wound.

Maybe if you slapped him, his injury would hurt less. But the return of his irksome sarcastic attitude was actually quite a relief. If he could crack jokes, then he must be in okay shape despite the blood loss. You stood from beside the tub to grab a washcloth and quickly run it under the sink faucet, making a sudsy lather with the bar of soap. Returning to kneel at the edge of the tub, you reached down to start cleaning blood from around the wound.

“AHH! FUCK!” Joker shouted and firmly grabbed your wrist to wrench it away from his torso, firmly gritting his teeth.

You whipped your head up to face him and yelled back, “I have to clean it!”

His grip on your wrist tightened, wincing as his heavy breaths strained the edges of the wound while keeping his eyes on yours. “Do ya now?” His voice dropped deep and you both became still.

You stared back and blinked at him. You should have guessed he’d be the type who doesn’t like things done for him. But you doubted he’d be as thorough as you would be. Swallowing down your nerves, you answered, “Are yougoing to do it then?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he drew in a breath before resting his head back against the tub, letting go of your wrist. “If you wanted to play doctor, you should’ve just said so. I like a woman in scrubs.”

The tension in the air dissolved and he clicked his tongue before a twinge in his side made him flinch and suck on his teeth. Was he compromising? It seemed that way. It was like he had to hold on to some sort of control over the situation to let you help him. It kind of made your stomach flutter.

You smirked and answered, “Well I don’t own any scrubs… so maybe next time.”

He hummed and licked his lips, looking at you then back down at his side. His eyes told you to get on with it and you suddenly felt much more nervous. Heat rose up into your cheeks now that he was watching you and the buzz of adrenaline was wearing off, but you told yourself that you can do this.

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously brought the cloth back to his wound, gently wiping its edges. He was still at first, then tensed his abdomen when you started to apply pressure, making your heart beat that much faster. But you had to keep going. You couldn’t leave it like this and let it get infected. He groaned and brought his knuckle between his teeth to bite down on it as you got to work cleaning up the dried blood.

He growled and squirmed in the tub, making it difficult to be delicate but you bit back your desire to tell him to be still. Once the soap cleared away the last of the debris, you dropped the cloth and quickly stood to go grab a cup from the kitchen to rinse it. He wasn’t the only one who was relieved that you’d finished.

“Don’t really have a light touch do ya, doll?” he said as you re-entered the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows. If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black then you didn’t know what was. “Well, you weren’t being very cooperative.”

Joker let out a sharp giggle before scrunching up his face and groaning again while he gripped the sides of the tub. You smiled to yourself and approached the sink to fill the plastic cup you’d retrieved with warm water.

“Mmm that’s ok, I like a little pain,” you heard him reply from behind you.

Turning around, you to see him flash a haughty grin at you before bouncing his eyebrows. You smirked back at him before raising the cup and dumping the of water over him, splashing away the soap as he growled loudly, and you giggled.

Of course, after all of that, you found your first aid supplies after helping him out of the tub as well as his bloodied and soaking wet shirt, but not without a symphony of curses and yelling. Once you’d applied a bandage to the wound and secured a gaze wrap that would hold him over until you could find a way to stitch him up, you lead him to your bed where he flopped onto his back.

Letting out a deep groan he said, “Ya know, you should consider a career in torture. You’ve got a knack for it, doll face.”

You chuckled as you pulled his shoes off of his feet where they hung over the edge of the bed and asked, “Was that a job offer?”

He laughed, making him groan once again from the tugging at his side and you were struck with a strange feeling. That flutter in your stomach. It was almost like pride, but not quite. The man who needed no one came to you for help. Maybe it didn’t mean as much as you thought it did, but that’s ok. The thought that he trusted you enough to turn to you when something went wrong made your heart soar and your belly feel warm.

“So, this is what that much blood loss does to you, huh?”

You smiled at him from the foot of the bed as he lifted his head and answered, “I still have some left.”

The warmth in your belly rose up to your face and compelled you to cautiously climb on top of him, careful to avoid putting any strain on his wound as you gently pressed your pelvis against his. Your heart pounded while you waited for his reaction before a low hum rumbled in his chest as his hands traveled up your sides.

Goosebumps followed his fingertips, and the heat of your breath met his when you leaned forward to ask softly, “Do you have enough left for me to help dull that pain a bit?”

His lips curved into a smile and hands lightly squeezed your waist as he answered with a deep chuckle, “Mmm let’s find out, shall we?”

Your smile matched his before locking your lips together in a kiss, his hands moving to stroke your thighs while you reached to pull his zipper down, your fingers grazing against his hardened cock. Heavy breaths through your noses mixed together while your tongues tangled together and you sank down onto his freed length, the delicious pressure making you moan into his mouth. Your hips rocked slowly against his where you straddled his lap, low groans coming from his throat as his head tilted back and his hands traveled your torso while you helped him forget he was hurt at all.

Taglist! @youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns @jslittlebirdie @drreidsconverse @vipervixxen

[hxnmantii]

Requested: Anon~ Ohh ok can you maybe do gyutaro hcs with a black fem s/o? He’s from the manga

tw: mentions of period and slight manga spoilers

Pairing: Gyutaro x fem black!reader

Ratings: PG

A/n: This is my first demon slayer request so I’m pretty excited about this....not gonna lie I’m prolly gonna make hc’s with his sister because she’s gorgeous and I’m gay..Anyways this was more human x demon since it wasn’t really specified but I hope you enjoy!! (This was not proofread)

First things first before you can even breathe in his direction, you have to get through his sister. She’s all about her brother being happy but letting other people into the sacationary they created together sets her off her fight or flight responses

So once you gain her approval and she deems you worthy to be around her brother, she does a 180 and wants to be friends with you which pleases Gyutaro because if you can’t get along with his sister then you aren’t the one for him

In the beginning, every move he makes around you is hesitant and cautious. He genuinely doesn’t understand why you like someone like him; he’s lanky, doesn’t have the best features, and doesn’t have any redeeming qualities

So for a fat chunk of the time you guys were getting to know each other, he’s thinking you’re a slayer and is trying to throw them off their game so you could promptly kill them.

But when he sees you sleep so soundly with his baby sister, not a fear in the world that these 2 powerful ass demons could potential kill and eat you??

His interest peaks and he wants to know more about you, an odd human.

He’s not as self deprecating as he may seems, he knows he’s ugly and has become proud of it over the years, but because of that reason he can’t bring himself to think he deserves you.

(So make sure to reassure him that you’re with him for a reason)

But the way he thinks about you?? If’s he an evil demon than you’re a goddess sent from above. He worships the ground you walk on, basking in your melanin radiance (not in the way you would necessarily think but still bask in your radiance)

And when he can make you laugh or smile? His heart swells with pride because you’re the only person to ever have that reaction with him. That’s how he ends up forgetting his envy towards people like Uzui

What does he need 3 wives for when he has the perfect girlfriend sent from heaven???

He would do anything for you including kill someone and Daki’s happy that her brother is finally happy so she would also do anything for you so you always have two body guards.

Surprisingly (or maybe not really) he’s really good at making You feel good about your body. Not to mention he’s great at comforting people whether it from panic attacks or hard days at work? He’s your guy. (It’s the years of having a little sister)

Which leads me to the point that he would take such good care of you if you were on your period. Anything and everything for you....just don’t ask where he got it from😭

The only time Gyutaro actually gets jealous anymore is during the daytime because the people of the sun get to bask in the peak of your beauty, when the sun kisses your melanin skin and enhances your already beautiful features, everybody gets caught in a trance.

Considering the fact that he was part of his sister for a good minute, his love language is quality time and physical touch.

He loves being beside you as you do your hair, handing you the products and brushes you need or helping wash all of the soap out of your hair when it’s wash day or even standing besides you as you cook yourself something to eat, feeding it to him from time to time. Both you guys know he can’t actually taste the food but it’s domestic gesture behind it.

Not to mention, he loves forehead kisses and cheeks kisses! Especially if you initiate it? He will relish the cheek or forehead you kissed and will think about it for days 

On Spa days, he lets you paint his nails and put a face mask on him. Really he’ll let you do whatever because your presence makes him feel unconditionally calm like he doesn’t have to always protective, that he can relax and not be envious of anybody because he’s perfect the way he is.

He intentionally doesn’t want you to meet the other demons because while they can control they’re hunger around you, they may not be kind enough to not eat you so you have never and will never meet any of the demons other than Douma and barely even that

He does not play about your safety.

For you to learn his backstory is going to a bond a lot stronger than his and Daki because as close as they are, they don’t even talk about their past life. But when’s confident you won’t try to take advantage of that information, he’ll tell you anything you wanna know

Overall you are his calm and dazzling goddess that he is so in love with.

Reblogs are appreciated