#kinda projecting because by God I know what it's like to go through things and get to the point of hating the entire world but he has-

[eldragon-x]

wait what trauma does bill have?

smiles. I'm so glad you ask, I'm pulling out the extra-canon lore.

We have a few points to get an idea of what Bill's old home world was like, mostly from the AMA and Journal 3.

Edwin Abbott Abbott is the author of "Flatland" a novella about a 2D world of the same name. Flatland is an incredibly bleak world where not only the world itself it a simple plane with no depth, but the dystopia of a social system depends on a hierarchy and the heads of society surpress any information about other dimensions through imprisonment at best and execution at worst and anything that deviates from the norm is shunned and shut down and at worst killed off.

Journal 3 references Flatland with Exwhylia, implying Bill may be from a similar dimension as it.

And looking at all that, it's easy to see how Bill "hates restrictions and loves outsiders and is a weirdo" Cipher grew to hate it all enough so to burn it down, especially considering triangles were low on the social ladder. And suddenly this scene

holds more weight doesn't it.

Additionally, it seems to be implied that Bill had a rather bad upbringing based on Hirsch saying his relationship with his family was "worse than Stan's" on the NYCC 2015 and Journal 3 specifying that Bill killed his parents alongside everyone else in his dimension:

Also maybe not neccessarily trauma but defenetly falls under "Bill has massive issues": The Axololt implying that Bill, despite all this, regrets destroying his dimension so much that he's deeply unhappy about it and his happy over the top jokester personality is somewhat of a persona:

Hope this helps 👍

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

��I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[weebsinstash]

I know the show isn't out yet but Stayed Gone is stuck in my head and I'm chugging my yandere Vox juice so hard right now. I think he has the capacity to be absolutely insufferable

---for starters THE SPYING POTENTIAL WITH THIS MAN. You're telling me he can directly plug himself in to the city power grid and see through all televisions, potentially even phones and computers too? Could he put himself on your phone and start going through your texts? Could he even just put himself on your phone real quick while you're sleeping to check in on you? You couldn't even have privacy in your own home because of whatever screens are around he could potentially shoot himself to or watch you through. Imagine just being in your apartment completely alone and he's suddenly on your tv. Like what if you had just been sitting there topless or with your dick out or something or 👀 I mean. He could see so much, really...

---God honestly like. You know I keep mentioning the Instagram without ever attaching pics or anything because I'm on mobile and I'd have to use the hazbin Instagram archive blogs here on tumblr to go find them back like, you know Val would openly post the meanest shit, would literally post Vox's face being busted up because he woke Val up from a nap or i think it was he literally just brought him the wrong soda (which to be fair was taken from Velvet and was half empty), and then you go over to Vox's account and his pic was taping his pieces back on while being really frustrated and kinda lowkey looking like he would cry

Like Val's out here "women are stupid also men are stupid too" and talking about how he adopted a dog and killed it within like 48 hours and here's Vox celebrating his pet's birthday with cake and a party like. Why are these men together. Why. Why. Don't get me wrong I love to be the involuntary third in a toxic codependency but--

look all I'm saying is... do any of you get really really upset when you see someone being mistreated, especially more so a friend of yours?

READER JUST LOSING THEIR SHIT GETTING FERAL ANGRY SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AT VAL BECAUSE HE PULLS SOME SHIT and like that's IT for you because 1. Valentino might like actually backhand you one as well, do you think he wears rings so it hurts, 2. Vox sees you defending him and like, it's based on your own preferences really but if he wasn't already gaga this CEMENTS it and 3. especially if he watches you have to take a blow for trying to stick up for him. Like what if you cry. I have a low pain threshold, I'd be sniveling and crying at the least. Valentino storms off and Vox is helping peel you off the floor cause you curled up into a ball or some shit and he's sitting there thinking "wow they suck at this but they still did it for me 🥺"

---during his song with Alastor, it's a little confusing because they show an actual camera crew when he's turning the TVs on, but i think it's pretty clear that he can control whatever the screens show visually, thus his little zany sketches and being able to talk to himself and at one point, showed the visual of himself blocking the radio Alastor was projecting on right next door. I can just see him using this to kind of.... fuck with you, really! Or do whatever he wants? He's trying to suck up to you and he's surrounded by roses, or you're his co-host/guest host and he thinks your joke was funny and gives a little audience laughter as a treat

Or you know... you're running from him down the street, passing all these different screens and displays as they power on and show things like, him "jumping in front of you" while demanding you stop or, trying to show some kind of blackmail publicly, or just, begging you to just ACCEPT HIM and showing you all the fun things he could do with you, "cmon, I said I was sorry, stop freaking the fuck out! We can- we can do that thing you've always wanted to do, what about that?!" as he tries to project you two doing something fun, but most importantly, doing it TOGETHER. You're running from him terrified and he's showing you images of like you two smiling and happy or, it becomes scarier as he's more desperate

"Don't-don't make me do something fucked up!! I'm serious, STOP RUNNING" and he's like freaking out, showing shit of trying to hold you down, tying you up, and/or shoving you into a locked room

Sudden thoughts of "what if the more emotional and unstable he becomes, the less he can control his intrusive thoughts and shows his more impulsive darker desires". He's tweeking and the screen glitches and you briefly think you see yourself completely restrained, blindfolded, gagged--

---he's just like OBVIOUSLY so prideful but also immature and whiny ("who gives a shit about alastor?" Well you, mr hes just quietly minding his own business and I'LL start beef because i feel threatened and STILL LOSE, like awww my poor little pogchamp got publicly humiliated in an argument HE started out of nowhere, he's my little sad wet baby lmaoooo) and we already know his relationship with Val can become physically abusive, so, you pair him staying in that kind of relationship, being codependent, with this personality of his, and I can just see.... ACTUALLY FUCKING TRIGGERED LIKE LITERALLY CRYING UPSET VOX BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM like he's pissed he's hurt he's lonely he's heartbroken and HELL NO IS HE GONNA ACCEPT THIS

Vox would be over here proudly claiming on his TV show that NO HE REJECTED Y O U, not the other way around! He's not upset! He's totally fine! Meanwhile everyone watching can tell this man is manic and visibly hotboxing copium, "I didn't even really like you anyways!!.... no, I mean, shit, fuck, COMMERCIAL BREAK--" *cut to technical difficulties screen because the man is CRYINGGG*

-- Valentino and Reader bonding over teasing Vox and making him flustered and of course, obviously, the inverse. I still kinda like the idea of "they both think you're cute but like nothing exciting until one night they bump into you unplanned and you're all dressed up". Like Val is from the 70s or 80s so they go to a roller rink disco whatever kinda place because I'm sure the coke game there is INSANE and you're just like, swaying your hips spinning around to Let It Whip or September or something dressed in some shorts that make your ass look just right 🤌

You're sneaking back into the studio after a night out and they're both lounging somewhere and Val's like "uhhhh who is THIS coming in without saying hi to Daddy?" and you pull your sunglasses down like "SIR??? 😳" And now HE'S flustered because he didn't know that was you and Vox is feeling some new kinda way because he's used to seeing you in like, your work uniform or casual wear

Val who then makes your work uniform really slutty and you have to serve him and Vox wearing it 😩❤️

---I have this thought of like lmao imagine walking down the sidewalk with Angel and seeing Vox on TV and Angel is like "ya know he can see everything outta dese things when he's plugged in" and you're like "bullshit, he couldn't possibly process that many screens at once, it'd overload his brain, he wouldnt be able to concentrate" and you're like "here I'll prove it, hey Vox, check it out you fucking dweeb" and flash him your bare titties or you MOON HIM

scenario A would be that he INSTANTLY barks out laughing, "hey Val, that dumb slut who brings you drinks just flashed me!" And he just totally shows it on the air, maybe partially censored, maybe not at all, your phone is ringing IMMEDIATELY, of COURSE it's Val, and Vox is broadcasting your mortified embarrassed expression, "our big story tonight: drunk bimbo fucks around and finds out! More updates after this word from our sponsor!" and the man will noooootttttttt stop bullying the fuck out of you afterwards, because he's got a crush on you and you're like someone weaker than him his insecure ass can punch down on

Scenario B is that he instantly turns pink and about 5 seconds later he blue screens and the entire city experiences a blackout and when he comes back on the air he's like stammering and, glancing at, it FEELS like he keeps glancing at you, but, is he really?

------

I dunno... like I'm sure Valentino is gonna wind up being unstable in his own way but I guess there's a certain, ALLURE to Vox being a little bratty and whiny while also having these very VERY handy, actually quite scary abilities and resources 👀 like boy show me what that screen do 😫💦

[throwawayhero]

could you give more hcs or a drabble about bakugou with a crush on reader!! pls i feel like ur fics are the closest ive seen to canon... i need more

No problem, and thanks! I try to make them seem canon, but sometimes it's difficult T-T. Just realising now that a few of these sound stalker-y and I'm sorta regretting writing this but oh well. I hope this is satisfactory!! c/w; social media au, buzzfeed, eminem (idek), karaoke, not proof read

!Katsuki who unintentionally catches himself playing with his hair while talking to you. Not in an obvious way (that's what he thinks at least), but more so absentmindedly fiddling with his side burns and such. It's kinda funny when he accidentally curls them and leaves them like that for a while. He also has a habit of playing with his baby hairs on the back of his neck.

!Katsuki who "accidentally" managed to copy your handwriting style down stroke for stroke? He doesn't really know how it happened, to be honest. He just noticed it one day during a group project after Jirou pointed it out to the two of you. You found it funny, but he found it outrageous and claimed that you had been the one to copy his handwriting.

!Katsuki who allowed you to tag along on one of Kirishima's and his study sessions. He beat the shit out of Eijirou and was gentle with you, more or less. He wouldn't hit you of course, but he certainly wasn't scared to yell. At least the first time. The look you gave him made him writhe with guilt, so he shut the fuck up out of embarrassment.

!Katsuki who heard you talking about a band you loved and decided it was his god given right to go through their whole discography and criticise it in his own time. But turns out, you have good taste, so he keeps to himself about it. "Accidentally" bought a spare ticket to their next concert and offered the spot to you. No big deal, right?

!Katsuki who did extensive searching for your socials, scrolling through his friends friends following, mutuals, and genuinely just word of mouth. When he did find your accounts, he stalked the SHIT out of them. When you requested to follow him, he freaked out and accepted straight away. He didn't follow you back until a week later, "just to be safe".

!Katsuki who unironically took one of those "Do I have a crush on my friend?" quizzes when he started to feel things towards you. 100% went down a rabbit hole on buzzfeed. He wanted to call his "crush" ANYTHING other than what it was. Mentioned it to Kirishima once and was left even ore confused than what he had originally been.

Unrelated but he just looks like he would listen to Eminem. Probably gets a good chuckle out of the whole "You gonna cancel me, yeah? Gen Z me brah?!" thing. Don't ask me to explain why I think this, it just makes sense.

!Katsuki who more often than not is watching you out of the corner of his eye. Not in an overly-creepy way, he's just "aware of his surroundings". He says that to anyone that mentions it, which is literally just his paranoia.

!Katsuki who secretly loved the fact that you hung out with him and his friends almost daily. Because then he wouldn't have to initiate hangouts and look as desperate as he really was. It gave him a plausible excuse to absorb every single opinion you uttered. It gave him an excuse to get even closer to you.

!Katsuki who freaked the FUCK out when everyone (besides the two of you) got sick and couldn't do the bi-weekly hangout everyone had played a part in organising. The group had settled on doing karaoke, so you can imagine how it went down with just the two of you there. Although, the two of you did make an amazing duet. (No one was really sick, Mina just mentioned Katsuki's behaviour and put 2 and 2 together. She also wanted to see if he would take initiative for once.)

!Katsuki who went out of his way to make changes to his hero costume that he knew you would like. Small details here and there, for both style and practicality. While it was cold he would use the neck warmer to hide the smirk that creeped onto his face when he saw you checking out his new look. He also started to make himself look nicer in general, indulging in a bit of jewellery (stud earrings, a ring or two, and a silver necklace), nicer shoes, wearing the uniform properly and such.

!Katsuki who has your number pinned in his contacts, as well as giving you your own message & ring tone sound. He has everyone but you, Kirishima, and his parents on silenced. He also has your contact saved as a nickname he assigned you without you knowing with a heart emoji. It's simple, but endearing.

[austinsastrology8991]

> Neptune IN the HOUSES < How your DELUSIONS find you RESOLUTIONS

Neptune in the First - You act so naive, and now people actually think your naive. But you hate it when people treat you this way, but your always swaying around and acting oblivious to everything around you, but ik its all a front, and people find you to be mystical and now everyone is entranced by this dance you make acting oblivious. its obvious its an act, but then the more you get to know them you realize its not and thats actually who they are, and you wonder why no one has bonked them on the head yet Neptune in the Second - you dont really value anything, you think everything comes and goes, and your just like a paper bag flowing through the wind tbh. But this quality of letting things be and go, allows you to be molded by life and that can be a useful tool for artisty, but man yall just give up easy tbh. also your voices are like ethereal - kiddd cudiiiiiieee Neptune in the Third - you guys talk like a movie character, and its never the villain but the naive protagonist who just believes in a bunch of bullshit. but everyone thinks your so amusing to lissten to and i suppose you are but sometimes you guys really are playing up this movie trope and well im done watching the same movie i want a re-cast. then next week you will re-cast yourself as a new protagonist and well everyone just loves to watch you be an idiot so keep it up Neptune in the Fourth - Your literally 'good will huntings robin Williams'. you act like you figured out emotions because you let them come and go, but when someone questions whats going on with you, you find a million reasons to explain why you behave this way, and why others do, whilst completely avoiding letting your emotions out because your way too sensitive youd rather keep it at them at a distance that way you can handle it Neptune in the Fifth - You guys are the embodiment of a amusement park. YOu perform a million different acts, and never run out of ideas on how to entertain. Very amusing to watch, but people tend to take you for granted since your always so fun to be around we just expect yalll to keep performing, and you can, but this eats you up inside. then you perform again showing us how you feel as usual, and how it feels being used, and well i guess its all good because you have a never ending source of material - yourselves

Neptune in the Sixth - IMO the real mvps of delusions. No one is as delusional as them but they dont even care because they have thought of so much bullshit and have found so much evidence for their bullshit that they now realized that what most people believe in is bullshit, so they just think everything is bullshit. They dont even give a fuck anymore because to them everything isnt real, and everything is real, they have trouble understanding reality, because they have seen things no one could ever believe exists Neptune in the Seventh - Hopelessly projecting what they want in the world just for it to never come to fruition. This is actually how they pull, so dont hate their game. but they tell people how they wish things would be, and people want to save them by showing them how the world works, or giving into their stupid delusions and pretending what they believe in is real. Kinda a lot to deal with. But they'll never admit that they act so innocent but then your basically taking care of a baby Neptune in the Eighth - They make the universe bend to their will whether it wants to or not. They will pull every magic trick they know to make sure that their delusions are not delusional anymore. And its impressive how much they believe in there imaginings that it does tend to become real, but i would warn them and whoever is around them; That their fantasies tend towards the dark. so if they want something to be real (and they gonna do everything they can to get it) they may or may not resort to black magic or some shady ass shit Neptune in the Ninth - They believe in god a lot, maybe too much to appear normal. They are the type to make up a cult and behave liek mormons and say it was the will of god. The people ive met with this are strange, and their beliefs alter quite a bit, and for some reason they always have met deities and angels. But they are so delusional in their beleifs that if you hear them out, its so far fetched youll get lost in them because your so curious how someone got so lost in their own religion you wonder if they'll ever return to the real world Neptune in the Tenth - They are openly strange. Bro dennis Rodman has this conj his midheaven and its just iconic really. These guys are the strangest most ethereal beings and everyone gets lost in their cult of personality. Always switching up their identity, they think reality is bullshit and well we are all here for it because yall do the strangest things and i just wanna watch what your gonnna do next. but im still trynna figure out how close i wanna get to you because being seen with you is a risk for my reputation, because you clearly dont give a fuck about yours Neptune in the Eleventh - How many acid shirts do you own. Its like your the public personification of 'make love not war and peace bro' and its cool everyone wants a freidn like you, but no one takes your advice seriously. Because your so lost in the make believe that you think your make believe can actually make someone make believe..... But like cmon how the fuck do you think thats going to change anything. WHen has 'peace bro' ever actually worked. do your charities or whatever but i do not see it working as much as you think it can. sorry not sorry. But i do love you. But get a haircut Neptune in the Twelvth - Your literally the type to lick your finger , put it up in the air and say 'yep it going to rain wednesday' then it actually rains wednesday. And your so cooked no one believes you (because why would you) but then it does happen and now eveyrone thinks your even more cooked because what you had cookin is a real recipe. Now everyone wants to know how you have your third eye or whatever open and now you just want to hide again lmao. Also incredible artists, i recommend you guys keep your intuitive insights to yourself because you are right a lot but why tell people when everyone is just going to question how you see signs rather than heed your advice

[songjinhyun]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔!!!!!!!!!!

Hello again subjects, your loved one is back and I am sauurr happy today because I finally got to understand when people say “𝖫𝖨𝖵𝖤 𝖨𝖭 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖨𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖨𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭’’ or like “you don’t have to seek validation in the 3d because you are have your desires it’s already done ✅”

Your girl understood that now , this time , this age

I’ve been in this community since late 2022, I was introduced to this community after going through a bad experience in my life so I was desperate for change and I wanted to restart my life in a fresh way, forget everything that happened and start over again

And because the universe(GOD) loves me he showed me this beautiful community and since then I’ve been UNSTOPPABLE 🤭,

Anyways, so since that time I was still trying to figure out what the statement meant “ITS ALREADY DONE” or “ITS ALREADY YOURS” they were kinda confusing me, but I finally got it how you may ask??

HERE’S HOW!!!!!!

So a lot of bloggers tell you “go live in ur imagination” or it’s already done so don’t seek validation from the 3d because the 3d is ur imagination and it reflects back watever you assume to be true”but u don’t know wat it means but u just go with it and after two weeks u still didn’t get ur desires u come back here and start saying bad things about the law and project ur own failures to other people, yeah!!! (Sorry it’s a bit harsh 🙂) but yeah

It’s because you, yes YOU ARE THE IMAGINATION,

YOU IMAGINE,YOU ACCEPT THAT IMAGINATION TO BE TRUE,PERSIST AND AFFIRM AND THEN **pooof**,ITS HERE

That’s it to be real, it’s not hard because you are the owner of the imagination, then u have the power to bring anything and I mean aannnnnnything!!!!to life 😉, so have fun with it imagine urs with that byatiful body(big bootygal,smol24inch waist) that hot boy that u want to date , that mansion u see on Pinterest,that high paying job, a famous singer or actor/actress, that celebrity ur crushing on and many more,girl u can have it. Just use ur imagination and then accept the imagination as ur reality

DONT IGNORE THE 3D, JUST DONT IDENTIFY WITH IT BECAUSE IT BENDS FIR YOU TO HAVE WATEVERRRRRR YOU WANT

Love you pookies, having a question ask and I’ll try ma best to help y’all and I can learn from you too so love ya!!!!

🥯NOTE: vivienne Westwood, miu miu, Prada, Chanel and Versace were made for me!!!!🤭🤭

Hyuna loves pookies

[poppy-metal]

in the creep au i think of art and her getting paired for a project and art noticing how similar and unique his partner’s handwriting is to a certain admirer… but this isn’t csi, he’s just on edge (and edging)

AURRRRRRR

i imagine this isn't even part of readers plan its just a random assigned thing and you're internally screaming. Its funny because obviously you dont think that highly of yourself - or you wouldn't be going about this so insanely - so you dont even consider about changing up your handwriting, art taking in your handwriting - remembering it - its too much.

but he does notice. its a small thing. you dot your eyes with hearts. his pen stops halfway down his paper when he sees it - flashes of all the notes hes gotten going through his head. he thinks, oh my god. a feeling goes through him - something like fear but probably more like excitement, like when you're in line for a roller coaster with a big drop. - he looks at you more fully. it suddenly hits him that you're so close. he's spent the past like six months of his life thinking about you nonstop, jerking off to you, soaking in your words like a sponge - god, hes seen your pussy -

but then you look up. wide eyed. confused. "art?" you ask, and he blinks. realizes he's been staring at you in silence for awhile and clears his throat. taps his pen on his paper like he was thinking of something helpful and not trying to be a detective.

he's so fucking dramatic. loads of girls probably dot their eyes with hearts. its not so abnormal.

"sorry, uh-" he looks back down at his notes. "- yeah, that sounds good. what you said - sounds good."

he doesn't know what you said. he'd totally spaced out there for a second. but you smile and nod and he gusses that was the right thing to say. you have a pretty smile. a birthmark by your mouth. he's noticed that about you before, hasn't he?

"i didn't catch your name, by the way." he tells you. recalls you already knew his. "have we met before?"

you pause through sifting through your pink notebook. stare down at it for a second. look back up at him and smile again. "no we haven't." you tell him your name. "i know you from, uh. your tennis."

he rolls your name around on his tongue. likes the way it sounds. props his chin on his hand as he relaxes more now that he knows you're not someone he just forgot he already knew. "you into tennis?"

you play with the end strands of your hair. your eyes dart around the room, a little erratic. he wonders if he's making you nervous?

"i just got into it recently...." you confess softly. "i think its really neat."

art laughs. it kinda bursts out of him and makes a few other people look over at you. you stare at him, startled and wide eyed - you'd made him laugh, you'd made him laugh you made art laugh you made art laugh youmadehimlaughyoumadehimlaughyou madehimlaug - and he scrubs a hand over his jaw.

"neats one way of putting it, yeah." more like his personal hell. heaven and the only thing in his life he has control over. a need and a want and a fucking burden. everything. tennis was everything. "you've seen me play?"

your head bobs in a nod, quick and shy.

"well, you should come say hi next time." his dimple shows. he's so golden and pretty in front of you. he really is made for you. your soulmate.

"i - um. I'll try..." this whole interaction has left you frazzled. you're itching to go back to your dorm. touch yourself furiously to the memory of him laughing and smiling at you - for you - because of you. you're throbbing between your legs. wet and drenched and needy. you'll have to write about how good he looked today and how hard he made you cum.

[wormdebut]

SEPTEMBER MICROFIC: GUERRILLA

@steddiemicrofic | Word: Charm | Word Count: 548 Rated: T (As always for swears) | CW: none

——

“But why do I have to be the one to go meet this guy, Chris? Send Jeff or—“ Eddie cuts himself off, in favor of smacking at his managers shoulder—“Here’s an idea, send Freddy! He would love to go to an—art show? Art Event?” Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what a showing of ones projects was called, but he digressed. “Anywhozle, send Fred.”

Chrissy tuts at him. “No, it will be you. Mr. Harrington requested you specifically, Eddie. You’re going.”

“Chris, Steve Harrington is fucking terrifying.” Eddie complained, following Chrissy around his apartment like a lost puppy.

“Christ, Eddie. You haven’t even met the man, let alone seen him. It’s a fucking honor, he’s even willing to meet with you. So if Steve God Damn Harrington wants to see Eddie Munson, then that’s how it’s gonna be.” Chrissy shoves a fitted burgundy suit into Eddie’s arms. “And, you’re going to dress nice.”

Eddie folds. “Alright, okay. But why do I have to go alone?” He pouts, and Chrissy just rolls her eyes.

“Honestly, Eddie, for someone who begged me to get you in contact with—and I quote—‘the sickest guerrilla artist since Banksy’. You sure are being a pain in the ass about this.” Chrissy sighs, patting Eddie’s hand before turning toward his front door. “The car will be here in less then hour. Do what you always do, make some friends and wait till he’s ready to speak with you. I promise it will be worth it Eds.”

See Eddie was nervous. Because Steve Harrington was fucking talented. He was smart and charming and a fucking bad ass. Corroded Coffin needed his art for their newest album. It was the only thing Eddie could think about if he was being honest.

Eddie didn’t even know what the man looked like, but he had read interview after interview. Not only did Harrington read well on paper, but the art that he put out was insane.

It would be fine. Eddie could talk to Steve Harrington. He could charm his way through this, just like he did with everything else in his career.

——

The room Eddie found himself in was huge. It was spacious and Harrington’s pieces were splayed everywhere. It was stunning and Eddie needed this art on his damn album, he needed it tattooed on his damn eyelids—

“Tattooed on your eyelids huh?”

Eddie jumps at the voice behind him.

“Ah shit, did I say that out loud? I was distracted—“ Eddie’s voice fades out as he meets the other man’s eyes.

Damn. If all art snobs are this pretty, he’s going to have to visit more art…places…

“Are you a fan of the artist?” The man asks, with a smirk and—That’s hot.

Eddie blinks, “I’m kinda obsessed actually. I think he’s a fucking genius. I have this little band—well we aren’t really little. We are kind of a big deal I guess, but I basically need him to agree to do this piece and I just—“ Eddie paused, eyes wide. The man in front of him holding back what was clearly a laugh. Great. Eddie was so good at this people thing.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling—What did you say your name was?” Eddie asks, blush overtaking his face.

The man laughed. “I didn’t. I’m Steve.”

Oh shit.

[fandomfucker]

I loveeee the singer and rhea headcanons you write could you do one where the reader is an actress? Maybe they meet through the reader getting cast in a movie that involves around wwe so she spends time going to matches and backstage

YES

Also, the years are different because that's how i want it and I said so🤷‍♀️

You'd have starred in that movie Fighting With My Family (just a different year though)

Since a big part of Saraya's story was Wrestlemania, you were invited to that years Wrestlemania, just a month or two before you started filming

The one you were invited to was Wrestlemania 39 and you were able to go to not only day 1, but also day 2 and got backstage VIP treatment

You got to meet a bunch (if not all) the wrestlers and had a heart-to-heart with Triple H

Rhea saw you first

She was nervous and jumping around shaking out her hands when she saw you walk down the hallway past her open door

Her heart stopped as did her nervous bounces

She kinda just automatically walked out of her room and watched you walk down the hallway until she couldn't see you anymore

She turned around and caught Dominik laughing at her

He told her who you were and told her to go for it

She didn't have the confidence until a little after winning her match against Charlotte

"Oh my god! Congratulations on your win! I'm Y/n Y/l/n, its so cool to finally meet you. You, uh, you looked really good out there."

"Yeah, you too. Thanks, uh-would you maybe, wanna, like, I dont know, get a drink or something after the show? You dont have to if you dont want to but-"

"I'd love too! And...maybe you could teach me a thing or two about wrestling?"

"Yeah, for sure"

You'd never seen her so nervous and it remained that way until she wound up proposing

But she just thought you were so fucking hot

Little did she know, you were just as affected as she was. you're just better at hiding it

soon as you walked away from yalls first meeting you were blushing and stuttering so bad someone asked if they needed to get you medical help

You were able to watch the matches from the guerilla and get a feel for the environment; the stakes, the people, the emotions, everything so that you'd be able to replicate it for the movie

You studied peoples moves, not only how they moved individually but together

Letting each other know what they were going to do, setting up, taking the bump, everything

You watched Rhea the closest though

It was just because she and Saraya seemed to have a lot in common in the way their characters looked is what you told yourself. Totally not cause she was absolutely gorgeously lethal in the ring

She helped you spare alongside the people actually hired to teach you for the movie. The wrestling with Rhea was more effective because that was her expertise

You definitely learned a lot but you only ever won when she let you

But with her looking the way she does when she riptides you, losing really doesn't sting too bad

You officially start dating around the time the movie comes out later that year, she was your date to the premiere and you guys wore matching outfits and it was perfect

Once you moved on to other projects, Rhea found solace in watching some of your previous stuff she hadn't seen before but found that she could NOT stand watching you scream or cry or be covered in blood (and god forbid a combination of the three)

You woke up once at 2 am to a call from her, checking to make sure you were ok and to hear your voice after she watched a show where your character was tortured nearly to death

She doesn't watch any of your horror/sci-fi stuff anymore

Shes always your premiere date though unless she absolutely has to work in which case you just go alone, but together you always match

She does love the stuff your in where youre not being harmed though and she'll watch them over and over again

She has at least one poster from everyone of your projects up somewhere in her house

Plus an abundance of your merch

Like way too much for any normal person

Kinda gives off Tom Holland and Zendaya vibes, but you each think that you're Tom and your girlfriend is Zendaya (if that makes sense)

Rhea about has a stroke when she find out you guest starred in an episode of Supernatural when you were younger

The Fighting With My Family movie is Rhea's favorite though and harbors the most merch since thats how yall met

You've gone to a ton of PPEs and RAWs since you started dating and fans freak out every time

[mydearesthrry]

i loveddd the musician reader blurb 🥹🥹 would loveee to see more

a/n: I LOVED WRITING IT THANK U FOR THIS ANON. enjoy my babies <3 i have an fc for musician!yn x har and its gonna be gracie abrams :p

warnings: nonesies, fluff!!

—

“hey, h?” Y/N called from her spot on the sofa, her laptop on her lap as she scrolled through the files for her next project, entitled five seconds flat.

“yeah, baby?” he shouted back, his footsteps soon following his words as he walked through their house, sitting next to Y/N when he arrived. “whats wrong?”

“um, to be honest, i- i don’t even really know. i just think something’s missing from here,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “like, i love it so far, but it’s missing something. i think it’s missing it’s ‘overarching love’ song. which is really stupid because this album has so many love songs.”

“not really.” he replied simply, shrugging and looking at her.

“what do you mean? there’s tons!”

“really? like what? go through the tracklist, baby.”

she rolled her eyes, mumbling a ‘fine!’, before pulling up the tracklist. “see! um, all my ghosts, what a shame? kinda?”

“exactly.” he stated, giggling at his wife.

“you’re so annoying. can you help me? please?”

he scoffs playfully, “as if i didn’t produce nearly the entire thing f’you, but sure.”

“okay, so i’m thinking of a poem that i wrote a long time ago called lame, and i wanna work on that. it was right before i told you i loved you.”

after cracking open y/n’s journal and flipping through the pages, they had finally had a song.

“fucking finally, holy shit!” she shouted, clapping as she collapsed on harry who laid sprawled on the couch.

“y’still gotta record it, m’precious wife,” he giggled. “and find a feature. since we decided that’s what we’re doing, f’some reason.”

“fuck my life,” she groaned, twisting in her spot to attach her cheek to his chest, hair fanning out around her and nearly tickling his nose. “why can’t you do it with me?”

“no.”

“harry,”

“no.”

“harry!”

“no, dude!”

“harry,” his wife stressed, holding the ‘y’. “pretty please? i’ll do that thing you like with my mouth?” she offered, knowing he wouldn’t refuse that.

“oh my god, fine! but this is the first and last collab im doing!” he grumbled exasperatedly.

“thank you, oh my god!” she squealed, running over to him and jumping, legs wrapping around his legs and her arms crossing around his neck.

“whatever. better hold up your end of the bargain.” he rolled his eyes, his hypocritical hands coming down to rest on her waist.

she grinned, jumping down from him and placing her hands on his chest. blinking up at him owlishly, she ran her hands down his torso and murmured, “i plan to, handsome. i’ll even start right now.”

———

liked by charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter, and 7,662,617 others

yourinstagram: took a tiny break and ended up at long pond with my beautiful producer husband <3. u have to wait to hear what we made there,,, butttt….. HATE TO BE LAME FT HARRY STYLES IS OUT NOWWWWW LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU

pinned yourinstagram: ps our faces when we cant figure out a chord progression 😭😭😭

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc: Already streaming in the Ferrari garage!

> scuderiaferrari: charles_leclerc we can confirm 🫡

> yourinstagram: scuderiaferrari OMGGGGG MI FAMIGLIAAAAAA LOVE U

landonorris: party celebration for the surprise release when???

> yourinstagram: landonorris get podium this weekend and u can celebrate for us 🤗🤗🤗

billieeilish: crying again i love you guys

ynrrysweethearts: EEEEEK

niallhoran: Gnomeo and Juliet back and better than ever!

> harrystyles: Rude.

madisonbeer: ur literally perfect in every way goddd i miss u guys so much

> yourinstagram: madisonbeer we miss u our precious daughter

harrystyles: We’re so cute. I love us.

harrystyles: I love you times infinity. It makes sense that you’ll probably be my first and last feature. H Xxxx

> yourinstagram: first and last but a few more right 🥹🥹

daylightyn: our parents!!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful angel girlllll

> yourinstagram: alex my love i miss u to bits

francisca.cgomes: we miss u on the paddock sweet bby 💞

> yourinstagram: oh my god kika i miss u so much its a problem

——

liked by yourinstagram, niallhoran, and 9,266,166 others

harrystyles: HATE TO BE LAME. OUT NOW.

view all 78,189 comments

yourinstagram: 🤭🤭🤭

yourinstagram: love youuuuuuu so muchsies

> harrystyles: I love you moresies. Xx

yourinstagram: ok look at us being models

yourinstagram: am i hyping u up enough

> harrystyles: yourinstagram Yes. Fueling my ego.

yourinstagram: my precious baby angel sugar cookie muffin pie <3 <3

> harrystyles: You’re insane.

user1: MORESIES??????? WTF

user2: he just said moresies yn is influencing him too much 😭😭😭

> yourinstagram: user2 its my job!!!! 😁😁

user3: they’re both on the writing credits they prob wrote it together 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: dad!!!!!!!!

> harrystyles: No. ❤️

user4: harry calling yn insane is so funny like hes def heard worse

user5: i love them so bad oh my god

user6: I DIDNT KNOW HARRY AND THE F1 BOYS WERE FRIENDS

> user7: yes!!! yn’s sister was a mechanic for ferrari and is now lando’s race engineer so they all get along really well!

yourinstagram: sorry im back here again WE R SO CUTEEEEEE

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Gorgeous

pairing: song mingi x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: dom!reader, sub!mingi, mingi's called princess a lot, thigh riding, praise kink, degradation, kinda bratty mingi in the beginning, hair pulling, that's all i can think of

a/n: didn't know if i should post this or not but🤷, hopefully you enjoy

it's like a treat ig because i'm probably gonna be pretty inactive for the rest of the week😭(other than queued posts)

It was always hard to fathom how lucky you were.

Lucky to have many things you suppose; a roof over your head, food to eat, clothes to wear.

But most specifically to have him.

The amazing, beautiful man laying across your body on the bed, his torso laying horizontally across your own, creating a cross-like symbol.

Mingi held his phone close to his face, scrolling through something you couldn't quite make out from the position. His breathing steady, looking at utter peace as he lay completely unaware to the admirer he had.

The way the sun streaked across the side of his face, flowing in from the open drapes of your bedroom window like a spot-light just for him.

You could stay like this forever. Watching him, feeling his weight on you, letting the comfortable silence consume the room filled only with your heartbeat and his calm breaths. 

Finally he seemed to sense your eyes glued on him, looking back up and meeting your gawking head on with a quiet kind of blush.

Phone forgotten, mind elsewhere.

“Hi.” He whispered, voice low.

“Princess,” You could feel him give a slight shiver at the sound of yours, husky from disuse, almost seductive with the way you let a hand gently brush though his hair and lower then to feel over his cheekbones and nose, paying special attention as your fingers grazed his lips.

He sighed into it, puckering his lips to leave a soft kiss on each of the pads of your fingers before your hand drifted upward again, petting and playing with his hair, him pushing his head into your touch, nearly purring with hopes of more.

God, you were so lucky to have him.

So lucky that you'd ever even met him.

So lucky that on that one day you’d been forced to take a shift at your former job, in a cafe, taking over for a 'sick' coworker.

Tired and cranky and upset with life, but there he was, something to bright up your day. And perhaps the rest of your life.

He came in panting.

Late for whatever he was supposed to be doing, hair a ruffled mess that only seemed to endear you more. A small, almost awkward smile, adorably sheepish across his face as he ordered his drink.

You were pretty sure his shirt was inside out but didn’t want to point it out because you didn’t want to embarrass him. It didn’t matter much though because his friend, a regular named Seonghwa you knew from writing his name on his drink almost every day, joined him a few minutes later, pointing out to him what you had failed to.

He turned even redder when his friend had told him, glancing over to you, hoping that you hadn’t noticed.

Only to see a catlike smile on your face that had him quickly heading to the bathroom to fix himself up.

He stood in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror, cursing himself, becoming determined to not make any more a fool of himself than he'd already done.

But when he finally came out, heading back to his table, he failed to watch where he was walking, crashing right into you and spilling coffee all over your clothes and the floor.

He was absolutely mortified. Apologizing over and over, fretting as he tried to help clean up, only proving to get in your way more the poor thing.

Your coworkers came over to help, to mop up the mess and help try to save the fabric of your shirt but Mingi continued to insist until one of them almost scolded him, telling him to go back to his table.

For the rest of the time he spent there, working on his project with Seonghwa you could feel his eyes on you, looking away whenever you glanced back.

Mingi wasn’t a regular, it was his first time there and probably his last after making such a fool of himself in front of the fucking barista. 

An extremely attractive barista.

A barista he couldn’t help but stumble over his words with, blush like a schoolboy.

And making you spill the coffee was the last straw....he could never show his face here ever again.

He looked down at his lap when you brought his coffee over, avoiding all eye contact until you were safely back behind your counter only for him to notice something was written on the side.

‘I can act like I can’t see you staring at me, or you can call me later, (insert phone number I’m too lazy to make up)’

After that Mingi became a regular.

And all because of that fucking annoying coworker that fake called in sick so she could skip and hang out with her boyfriend.

Well now you had a gorgeous man laying across you, subtly, maybe even unconsciously grinding up against you.

So maybe you could forgive her.

“Please,”

A single breathy word and you glance down, a moan escaping him, an octave higher than his voice normally is, wanton and full of pure need.

He ruts against the side of your leg, phone pushed over to the end of the bed as he moans.

Looking up at you with eyes that scream ‘fuck me’ in a universal language…but also something more.

He eyes you carefully, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly press together. You watch as he raises an eyebrow before it’s quickly gone, replaced by a pout.

“Don't you want me?” You swallow the lump in your throat, watching him slither up your body, coming up so close you can feel his breath across your face. His lips are only inches from yours, your noses almost touching.

His eyes flicker down before he's whining, body languidly moving until he's straddling your hips, tensing thighs pinning you in place and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.

“Jesus christ, fuck all.” You mutter, wondering when the day will come when he makes you finally lose it.

“How ‘bout you fuck me instead?” He rolls his hips against you once more, letting out an over-exaggerated moan like he’s your own personal show.

You groan.

Fuck the way he always seems to get his way.

Fuck your weak willpower.

Fuck him, as he wants.

Your book gets thrown unceremoniously onto the floor as he snatches it out of your hands.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” You frown.

The bratty look on his face has you wanting to do everything he asks of you and more until he’s a crying little mess, ruined beyond even talking.

“Well it’s not very nice that you’re not fuck-“

Your hands are on him.

Groping and sinful in every way you know he loves best.

Your hands are everywhere and his uselessly clutch at the sheets in tight fists, drowning under your touch, gasping for air like a man being drowned.

“God, please!”

Looking up at you with the eyes of a devil pretending to be an angel.

A smile curls at your lips.

Then your hands are sliding up and under his shirt, cool fingers feeling over smooth skin. Over his abdomen and then up higher until he’s panting.

Running over the blank canvas of his throat, lightly teasing at the prospect of wrapping around it. 

Touching, teasing, feeling anywhere you can find purchase, driving him absolutely, maddeningly insane.

One hand brushes over the curve of his ass. Right where it meets his thigh, letting him try to arch into it before squeezing and kneading, making him bury his face into the crook of his arm with muffled noises of pleasure.

You’re in his head, taking over every thought and every little thing. Making him forget anything and everything except for how good it feels. You feel.

He whines, thrusting becoming sloppier, needier.

“You desperate baby?”

He nods, biting his lip in a futile attempt to hold back a groan when you grip his hair, pulling his head up and out into the open.

“Don’t hide from me,” you pout, “wanna see your pretty face.”

A wave of arousal washes over you at how much of a mess he already is. Even more so as he lets himself be maneuvered-practically manhandled-by you.

Because that’s the thing, no matter how hard he’d try to be a brat, no matter the words speaking out of occurrence.

It only ever led to one thing happening.

This. Him. A pliant mouldable thing all laid out and ready-begging-for you to use him however you may like.

Pushing him up higher onto his knees, his body easily being led along by your gentle orders. “Sit on my thigh baby. C’mon, you’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, “yes, yes, ‘m your good boy, only yours.” He continues to babble, nodding along as he moves from your hips to straddle your thigh instead. 

“Yeah? Gonna such a good boy for me princess” Mingi whines, burying his face into your neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down the expanse of your throat. You laugh, perhaps at your own expense because in the next second he’s nipping lightly over the one place he knows will drive you insane, in hopes of eliciting a sound of your own.

He gets his way fairly quickly, your moans ringing loudly in his ears, making him all the more worked up.

It makes him so dizzy and hazy, he shakes his head, intent on savouring this. In imprinting this exact moment into his memory. 

In remembering your soft gasp as he drags his tongue, hot and wet, over your throat, moaning all the while.

In remembering the way your nails dig into his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. Rough in context to the soft touch of the tips of your fingers sliding up and down the length of his spine, leaving goosebumps in your wake as he begins sucking a harsh hickey onto your neck that you know you’ll regret letting him leave tomorrow.

But that’ll be tomorrow and you can’t even begin to bring yourself to care about then when you could be right here. Right now.

“Fuck baby,” you breathe, dragging him back by his hair.

He lets out a protesting whine but you ignore it, lovingly looking into his watery eyes, his pace never ending, continuing to thrust into your thigh like a bitch in heat.

You let it slide for now.

Because he’s so cute as he pants, a flush crawling up his neck and over his cheeks.

So fucking adorable the way he covers his face with his hands, fingers slightly parted to see you, squeaking out, “don’t look at me like that.”

If he hadn’t been dry humping your thigh all the while you would’ve squealed and pulled him closer, cooing about how cute he was.

But that wasn’t the case,

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me or something,”

You smile teasingly, peeling his fingers away one by one.

You could simply devour him.

“Have I ever told you just how pretty you are, Song Mingi?” You whisper, fingers brushing over his cheekbones, voice soft as your eyes flicker down to his lips. Plush and slightly swollen and oh so kissable, spreading wide into a heartachingly dumb smile. Then you look up to his eyes, soft and shining with hearts dancing in his lust-blown pupils.

“Yes, all the time,” His words come out in a half pant and slurred as he presses himself closer, eyes lidded, “but you can always tell me again…I don’t mind.”

Your hands make contact with his hips, ceasing his movements all together. He whimpers but stops when you tut him, thumbs slipping just under the waistband of his boxers.

“Pretty,” you whisper.

A loose mewl crawls from his lips, trying to roll down against you. The praise going straight to his head-both of them.

He’s never outright admitted it, but you could always tell what the words did to him. 

It was obvious with how his eyes lit up, breath hitching and body stiffening.

You noticed the very first time you’d called him that; pretty, gorgeous, beautiful, any and every synonym. 

Fuck, he loved them all. 

Loved to be called them, loved the words no matter if they were kind and sweet or envious and jealous or simply downright degrading.

In fact, he seemed to like the last one the most.

“Such a pretty little whore, aren’t you princess?” you pull his head up, contemplating before licking a long strip from his collarbone to jaw. "My pretty little slut."

You sound so possessive, so-so controlling and that paired with your hand in his hair-the other on his hip, squeezing the flesh of his ass while pushing him to move faster and faster, harder and harder and, and-

"Mine. Just for me, right? Such a pretty thing for only me to use, right princess?" You mutter against the skin of his throat.

His heart stutters and you can feel it, almost hear it until it’s covered by a loud keen, arching his back and pawing at your shoulders.

Shuddering and shivering and clutching and whispering "yes, yes, yes, yours, yours, yes yours." Over and over like a mantra as you pepper kisses all over. 

He lets out a choked gasp, followed by a breathy little whine, going completely tense around you. Muscles pulled so taught his body trembles in place, his nails digging so hard into your shoulder you can't help but let out a hiss, wondering if he drew blood.

And then just like that he moans out a sigh.

You pull away to look up at him, “Did you just cum?”

His body falls slack, slumping against you with a weight that nearly makes you fall back against the headboard.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and nods, words failing him, continuing to shiver slightly with the intensity of his orgasm.

He nuzzles closer, whining when even then it’s not close enough, mumbling something tiredly, the words unintelligible.

"Pardon baby, what'd you say?"

Mingi, your angel, your devil, your fucking little brat. You can feel him smile against your skin, placing his lips up by your ear, teeth teasing the shell, breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your body.

“Can you fuck me now?”

You nearly choke, “what?”

He rolls off, laying on the bed right next to you, slipping off his now dirtied pants and boxers, before falling back and opening his legs wide. “Fuck me, please?”

You almost moan out loud.

“Aren't you tired princess?" He shakes his head no. You sigh. "Such a whore.”

He smiles sweetly, looking every ounce of ruined he did only seconds ago with mussed up hair and hickeys adorning his neck, all hard and flushed and begging to be ruined all over again.

Still managing to let that mischievous glint enter his watery eyes and get a smartass quip ready on his lips.

“Only a whore for you.”

---

a/n: i hope this is okay, this is my first fic for ateez so cut me some slack if it isn't the best😭, i'd love your thoughts and feedback to know what you all thought

and lol, just realized that this is my 500th post

my taglist is open here; @honeymooncrz, @d7dream, @lemonhongjoong

(unsure if you two want to be tagged for ateez or txt stuff so just lmk if you don't) @hobihearteu, @imsolovelylovely

[silverskye13]

Silver I know next to nothing about the alien franchise and movie, I am giving you full permission to use this ask as an opportunity to spread propaganda to get me (and anyone else) to finally watch it

So it's, so like, the thing is, right. I'm not a movie tech kinda person [though it is technically impressive, the funny little tricks they did, like not having the budget for a Big Space Ship Derelict so they are a scaled down model that the director's kids in space suits walked up to so it would look bigger, and it was shown to the audience on a shitty CCTV because they didn't do a big matte painting of the set they filmed the tiny one, projected it onto a wall, and then filmed that.] So my rant isn't going to be about how technologically cool the movie was for 1979 on a less than optimal budget. But what I do like, what I excel at, is breaking down themes and tropes. And my god. My god. Just. Ugh. [Flails my arms.]

So a basic rundown for the movie, spoilers ahead, and my analysis of how fucking cool it is:

Basic gist of the movie: The crew of the commercial mining vessel Nostromo are awoken halfway through their trip back to earth by a mysterious signal, calling for help on a far away planet. Upon going down to investigate, one of their crew members is attacked by a strange alien parasite which attaches to his face. This kicks off a tale of increasing horror as the new alien kills off the crew one by one, culminating in Ripley [the main character] blowing up the ship and fleeing in an escape pod, not sure if she'll ever be picked up in the vastness of space -- with the ships cat, who miraculously also survives. [We all know Jonesy is the real main character 💜.] Along the way a plot by the Weyland-Utani corporation is revealed, one of the crew is discovered to be an android, and there is a lot of alien screeching.

Now! The themes that I go absolutely feral over can commence.

The horror of the movie, the reason why the alien is scary, and lethal to humans specifically, is it is a creature built for efficient survival, and this is a trait that Ash, the ship's science officer [and resident hiding android] highly praises in the critter. He describes it as beautiful, elegant, pure in its efficiency. The perfect organism. Efficient.

Humans, by comparison, aren't efficient. We are social. And efficiency preys on social needs. For example:

The xenomorph eggs can survive for ages [in the derelict they're found on, the dead alien who drove the ship is described as fossilized. These eggs have been here for thousands of years. But they activate immediately when a curious human pokes around them. It isn't a fast process. Kane is poking around for a few minutes, looking at the movements of the creatures in their eggs, making observations. Curious. Curiosity is an inefficient trait -- he would have survived if he had climbed out of the hole the eggs were in and left, or even waited for the rest of his team to enact quarantine and investigation procedures.

Speaking of quarantine! When Dallas and Lambert bring Kane, newly infected by an alien parasite, back to the ship, Ripley locks them in the airlock. There are quarantine procedures. We can't risk the whole crew. But they are scared for Kane's safety. He might die without help. They break quarantine. If they hadn't broken quarantine, the baby alien would've been born in the airlock, where it would get spaced the moment it was born.

When the face hugger parasite dies and Kane seems to return to normal, what they should have done to attempt to reinstate quarantine was put him in hyper sleep. His body would have been frozen in a stasis which might have frozen the parasite or, if it hadn't, would have left the new baby alien trapped in a stasis pod. But Kane, haggard and scared from his ordeal, asks can we please have one more meal together before I go to sleep? And that one meal is long enough for the new xenomorph to be born, and release terror on the ship.

There is more. Parker would have lived if he hadn't gone to find the cat by himself, leaving the safety of his group. Dallas would have lived if he let Ripley go through the vents, but he was the captain and he didn't want to risk someone else's life so he went instead. Brett would have lived if he'd left Lambert behind when she was being attacked, or if he'd hit the xenomorph with the flamethrower instead of insisting Lambert get out of the way first. And Lambert would have lived if she'd run instead of being paralyzed in fear by the creature killing her friends. And the xenomorph? Wasn't even eating it's kills. No gore. Little blood. It was killing them because it knew they would kill it, and it was neutralizing threats. Efficient.

The xenomorph is very clearly engineered for survival, and it's survival depends on killing the inefficient organisms around it. Even it's acid blood is described as a survival mechanism, not an offensive mechanism.

Okay Skye, we hear you talking about how scary the critter is because it's not a social creature. That's an interesting observation, but it's still just a monster story, right?

Well, let me tell you an alternative story. Just a little to the left of the original, but one I would argue is still very very canon.

You are an android built by Weyland-Utani, a company which is jealously hunting alien tech to use for its many space programs. You are placed on the Nostromo because there is a known anomaly in the area, and they want to find it. Your job is to get a specimen back to the company, all other protocols expended.

You are programmed to be efficient, so you get to work.

You wake the crew when you find the signal. You give them only the information they need to investigate: it is a signal that repeats every 12 seconds. You let them make the conclusion it is an SOS. Humans are social creatures. They want to help other social creatures in need. There is some arguing about whether they should go, but in the end an extra push from you sends them. Ripley, one of the more efficient members of the crew, keeps asking you why you haven't decoded the message.

"Mother [the super computer running the ship] is still working on it." This is true. She has only translated part of the signal. By the time Ripley realizes it's a warning, the crew is already on the way to the derelict. You tell her if she walks out there, they will have already figured out if it's a warning or not by the time she makes it to them. She agrees.

When they return with a specimen, Ripley [efficient, following protocol] doesn't want to let them on. But Ripley doesn't know you're an android, so when you break quarantine, and you tell her you just wanted Kane to be safe, she begrudgingly believes you.

When the alien is loose, it is easy for you to keep them from killing it. Humans are social, inefficient creatures, and you feel no empathy for their deaths. You do pity them though. Between you and the alien, their chances of survival are slim.

If only they were more efficient.

The horror in Alien is not the xenomorph. The horror in Alien is when anything, primal creatures, androids, a particularly greedy corporation, preys on human social needs in order to get what it wants. There is significance in that Ripley, despite everything, chose to save the cat. She needed companionship. All humans do. She needed to save that cat. A cat that was cantankerous and mean, and hissed whenever it was held, was better than the cold efficiency of empty space.

Any system that prioritizes absolute efficiency will be inhospitable to human life.

[hitlikehammers]

feel the bigger thing

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, domestic husbands are domestic ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, rockstar husbands, love is lying on top of each other on the sofa discussing buying a new house with a pool, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twelve: Love is having hope for the future together (@acasualcrossfade)

you know how the rockstar husbands talked about lights for their pool in the original fic, je ne regrette rien? well GUESS WHAT FEATURES HERE

“These numbers,” Eddie’s reading over the printouts from their manager, sales projections and preliminary tour dates and all the rest: “baby, we can get the new house, hell, we can keep this one and have a second house if we want it,” Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head where he’s got him bundled up on his chest, tucked under his chin where they’re currently both sprawled on the couch; Eddie says he likes to think like that—likes to know Steve’s there by design, no question, the weight of him evident every time he breathes, he says; held close to my heart, baby, in fact, is what he also says.

Hopeless goddamn romantic, his husband. But he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We don’t need a second house,” Steve points out, smooshed against Eddie’s sternum.

“We can get the pool,” Eddie added with the audible equivalent of his brow-wiggle and okay, fine, that’s a good point, because Steve may not have really used the one at his parents’ after, well, everything, but he…does kinda miss having one. Now that the memories are distant enough in both time and miles that he doesn’t see standing water deeper than four feet and start fucking hyperventilating anymore.

So…yeah. Compelling argument regarding a pool.

“This record,” Eddie blows out a long breath, slow and even as Steve rides it where he’s braced atop his chest, lifted with his lungs: “this record’s gonna change everything.”

Steve turns his opposite cheek against Eddie’s heartbeat, huffs a little as he gets comfortable again before he asks:

“You think so?”

Eddie doesn’t move, but the fact that he stills so completely is kinda like a motion in itself.

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t sound angry or anything, or even upset. Not disappointed. Maybe just…surprised.

And Steve gets that. The numbers attached to this album are…if they’re right?

This is going to be huge.

But.

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, which is kinda useless given his position, so he sorts of ends up nosing at Eddie’s shirt instead as a byproduct of the hushing of his shoulders: he’s not mad at that, as the outcome:

“I guess, not really,” Steve finally settles on because it’s really not any more complicated than that.

Then Eddie’s got his fingertips at Steve’s nape and he’s spreading them through Steve’s hair and oh.

Oh, that’s so fucking nice.

Which is probably why he pairs the sensation with the question he follows with:

“It’s not good?”

And Steve almost doesn’t hear it, and he wouldn’t even fucking feel bad for not hearing it or not processing it when Eddie’s hands are in his hairlike that because fucking hell, Eddie knows what that goddamn does to him; but Steve does hear it. And again: it’s not angry, or upset. It’s maybe a little surprised. It’s not even quite…hurt, or disappointed, but it’s far closer to either or both than Steve’s comfortable with, than Steve ever wants to hear in that voice, so:

“God no,” he answers with real feeling, shaking his head to back it up and also to—mournfully—dislodge Eddie’s distracting fucking hands; “it’s spectacular,” Steve tells him, plain and honest because it’s the fucking truth: “definitely your best yet.” Also true.

Eddie goes still again, and Steve tips his head up and back at the most uncomfortable possible angle to catch Eddie expression, to read its clues: he’s watching Steve so intently, like he’s something unfathomable and dear enough to spend eternity decoding—but that’s strange in itself. They kind of know each other inside-and-out by now.

So Steve rolls back the words exchanged, looks for the catch, the dropped stitch, the record-scratch.

Gonna change everything—

Ah. Steve’s breath hitches a little, but: he thinks he’s found it. Right.

He makes himself breath in deep but slow, gentle and calm as he can, and Eddie’ll pick up the tension he can’t wholly wash out just yet, and Eddie’ll feel the uptick of his pulse where his one hand holds Steve still around the ribs. But it’s fine. Because they’re fine.

Okay.

“I just,” Steve exhales long; “you said everything,” and Steve tries to make his tone hold the word itself to account, to fill it up with all of the things that came to Steve’s mind and made him denounce the possibility on sight—change everything? But there’s so very little about Steve’s life, about this life together, about their life that they’ve clawed and fought for and now get to relish and bask in: Steve doesn’t want that changed.

And to think a fucking album release could change what they have, that was just, insanity.

…right?

“You said that, and I—“ and that’s as far as Steve gets before Eddie’s dragging him up, firm but so tender, and so full of love in just the touch that any misgivings—and they weren’t even that, that were just…just little off feelings that Steve knew weren’t of real consequence, because he knowswhat they are and what they have and his first instinct was right damnit, and he knew that like he knows the sky is blue and Eddie curls frizz no matter what you fucking do to them: they won’t change in the ways that matter, because they’re…unshakable.

So Steve knew that already, and he knows it now in just Eddie’s touch drawing up upward and closer, but if somehow he’d managed to miss both of those points?

The way he kisses Steve is…fuck, it’s like sucking his soul to consume.

“Oh, oh baby,” Eddie speaks so that they’re lips aren’t ever anything but locked tight, but touching close and with feeling; “not everything, no,” he promises, seals it, vows it straight into Steve’s open mouth so it’ll slip safe down to his heart and soul:

“Not everything,” he whispers, still close enough they can’t breathe without the other there, too, and: that’s heady. That’s real.

“Good,” Steve exhales but with a weight to it, a finality: a seal and vow of his own as he nips Eddie’s swollen lips once, twice, and then tucks himself under Eddie’s chin again, where Eddie’s arms are waiting to envelop him even closer, now; tighter still somehow.

“You’re the center of my world, you know that?” Eddie finally murmurs into Steve’s hair once their breaths have calmed a little, and he can say it steady and sure like he means to, and Steve really just smiles, and burrows that half-an-inch closer, where he compresses Eddie’s flesh to the bone so he can feel the nearest a person can be.

“I do know that,” and it’s not even a fib, or a half-truth: and Eddie already knows the understood ‘you’ of the sentiment clear and well-established—Steve knows Eddie’s love in all sorts of ways, big and small and in between but the first way he probably believed it best was coming to grips with the fact, the unwavering law-of-the-universe fact, that Eddie Munson’s heart beats for Steve the very same Steve’s beats for him. No difference. No more or less. Perfect concert, exact same time signature: precisely shock-start to pump in the first place, like the same spark keeps time in both their chests.

Steve knows he’s loved in ways that don’t have words. Because he loves the very same, and so he knows them intimately, no labels required.

“I already told the promo team we work around your schedule or I’m gonna have to by inconveniently down with the flu for appearances,” Eddie adds as Steve settles back on his chest, soft again and languid: he wasn’t fearful, or even truly hesitant, but—it’s nice. To lean back in and cuddle close.

“You know you don’t have to—“ Steve starts but Eddie tuts him quiet in a flash.

“I do have to. Save my heart the aching, baby,” he presses lips to Steve’s temple and speaks there, drags his mouth wet to the skinL “more important, save yours the same.”

And Steve maybe can’t help but press his own lips first through the cotton of Eddie’s shirt straight to the center of his chest, and then leaning up a little, to the stretched-out collar sneaking the lowest peek of flesh beneath his clavicle: kisses there too, a little sloppy and a lot overfull of feeling as he breathes:

“I love you something wild, Eddie Munson,” and his pulse skips happily, a little dance under Steve’s mouth as he smiles before propping his chin on Eddie’s chest and looking up, meeting the eyes he knows are waiting for him, waiting to lock with his.

And when they do—even after all these years, and Steve has no expectation of it ever change with more to come—but when their eyes meet it’s Steve’s heart that goes giddy, a little off-kilter for joy, and it fucking is that, isn’t it.

It’s wild.

“I love metal, baby,” Eddie answers, and Steve tips his head a little; an odd direction, but he’s intrigued: “music and D&D and meeting the fans,” and Eddie’s playing with his hair again, and he knows what that does, but—

“I feel something so much bigger, for you,” and Jesus, Steve’s in love with maybe the only person in the world who can match him for romance; sometimes outstrips him, even. His heart goes back to dancing chaotic and he couldn’t fucking stifle the grin if he tried, and fuck if he’s ever planning to try.

“Fucking sap,” Steve mouths tight against Eddie’s chest, damp through his shirt for the chuckle he breathes there, weightless and marveling because he gets to have this; they get to have this: they’ve had this for so long and they get to keep it.

“You love it though,” Eddie runs his cheek back and forth across the top of Steve head, and Steve just hums:

“I don’t love it,” he insists with intent in it: “the bigger thing,” he corrects, makes clear: “I feel the bigger thing.”

And Eddie just ducks a smile against Steve’s hair, warm where as it spreads, and Steve can feel it; can’t help him mirror it full as he sighs:

“So tell me more about this pool.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[dira333]

Date Nights - Sero Hanta

Requested by @fuzztacular - for my Date Night Series

1.

“So all I do is spin this thing?” Sero asks, eyeing the ball of wool in his hand.

“Well, you can try your hand on something yourself, I’m not stopping you.” You laugh, eyes on your project as you crochet another line.

“Sure, sure, but like… I have no idea how to do it.”

“I could show you.” You offer without looking up. This is a particularly hard line.

“Are you sure? You look kinda focused there.” There’s something in his voice that has you looking up. Your eyes catch his, somewhat of a lost look in them, before he realizes he’s been caught and drops his gaze to the ball of wool in his hand.

“Alright.” You drop your project on the table next to you and pull out a different ball of wool and a needle. “I’ll teach you the different stitches first. Gimme your hands.”

His hands are nice. Big and warm, with long fingers and smooth skin.

“Do you use hand cream?” You ask absentmindedly as you thread the wool around his fingers and catch a whiff of something… flowery?

Sero blushes next to you, rubs his neck with his free hand.

“I… My hands are pretty rough from work. Iida’s girlfriend recommended me something?”

“Oh? Well, I’m always in need of some recommendations, you know?”

“You? Nah. Your hands are too soft already. You’d slide off everything.”

You laugh. “I don’t think that’s true, but thanks. Some wools can really dig into your skin though, so it’s better to be prepared.”

Sero is, to put it frankly, terrible at crocheting. 

He would be a lot better if he kept looking at what he was doing, but for every second his eyes were on his own project, he stared at you for at least three until you caught him.

“Is this like me watching you read Manga?” You ask, curious and a little daring.

He blushes a feverish red. “It’s not… I don’t… wait? What?”

It’s your turn now to avoid his eyes, your courage suddenly nowhere to be found.

“When we sit together to read Manga. I always take so long… because I… you look really cute when you’re reading…” When you sneak a peak at Sero, his mouth is wide open.

“I’m sorry!” You defend yourself, words rushing out of you. “It’s just that… It’s the only time you don’t notice! Oh god, that sounds so bad!”

“I’m going to stare at you so much now!” He declares, fist pumping as his grin almost separates his face. “Equal rights!”

“What?” You squeak, but Sero’s crocheting project is already forgotten, as he picks up the wool you’d been using for your project, his eyes zeroed in on you.

“Come on pretty, crochet for me.”

His words have barely left your mouth before he turns an unflattering shade of red and you wheeze, breath catching in your throat.

“Next time…” You manage to get out between coughs. “We go out on a date. No staring. We could do ice cream?”

Sero nods feverishly.

It’s only when the two of you have calmed down that he mumbles: “Can’t believe I scored a second date by being an idiot.”

-

2.

It’s already past lunch by the time Hanta appears, hair disheveled, pajama top on backward. You’re on the Couch, too focused on your newest project to pay him much attention as he yawns. That is, until he flops down on you, burying his head in your stomach.

“Don’t ignore me.” He huffs into your shirt.

“Sorry.” You put your crocheting to the side to drag your hands through his hair, giggling at the groan it pulls from him.

“I hate nightshifts.” He mumbles.

“I know.”

“I missed our date.”

“It’s not your fault Sato got sick.” You scratch his back with one hand and he sighs deeply into the motion.

“Don’t fall asleep on me again.” You warn him. “You won’t be able to sleep tonight if you do.”

“But I wanna cuddle with you. I missed our date!” He does sound upset, even if muffled through the fabric of your shirt. You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know and I love you, but you stink.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.” You nudge his side when he falls silent, knowing full well he’s on his way to fall asleep again.

“Get up. Take a shower. I’ll set up everything for a coffee date.”

It’s quiet for a moment before you feel him press a kiss against your stomach. Hanta pulls himself up, yawns own more time, and leans into you to kiss you on the mouth.

It’s sweet, even with his terrible morning breath.

When he moves back, something changes in his eyes, jolts him the way Kaminari does sometimes to mess with him.

“What?” You ask but he grins, suddenly wide awake.

“Nothing. Just remembered I have a surprise for you.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Go shower.”

“Yessir!” He salutes, laughing as he shuffles off towards the bathroom.

-

You use the fancy plates his mother gifted you a year before, just because you can. There’s still some of the cake left that Sato made before he fell sick and you fry some rice, knowing full well that Hanta’s going to be starving by the time he makes it out of the shower. 

Speaking of which.

He thinks he’s subtle, hiding behind the corner.

“I’ve already spotted you.” You point out as you wait for the milk to foam. Hanta will never admit it, but he likes his coffee fancy when he’s at home.

Hanta giggles and you turn to look at him, unable to keep the grin of your face when you see what he’s up to.

He’s pulled one of the more hideous Hawaiian shirts out of the closet, wears it unbuttoned over a wife beater like the detective from your new favorite Manga. In his mouth, he holds one single rose from the bouquet on the living room table.

He winks at you, one foot resting on a chair as he stands in the most ridiculous pose you’ve ever seen.

“What?” You wheeze. “Are you doing?”

“Flirting!” He takes the rose out of his mouth and points it at you like it’s a sword. “I need to show the prettiest girl in the world some love.”

“You’re ridiculous!” You laugh, taking the necessary steps closer to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him.

-

It wouldn’t be your classical weekend date without the two of you ending up on the Couch again. Hanta, tired after all the good food, is sitting up to keep himself from falling asleep again, diligently working at the crochet project he started months ago. It’s been a slow going progress, but he’s almost finished the head of the stuffed Octopus he’s making.

Your head is resting on his stomach, your arms on his legs on either side of your body as you catch up on your reading.

“Baby?” Hanta asks from above. “Is that correct?”

You lower your book to peer up at his work. When you nod, he grins, proud of himself.

“By the way, do I get to know more about my surprise?”

“Surprise?” Hanta asks, clearly confused for a second before he catches on.

“Oh, that. God, I’m so tired, I already forgot a gain. We stopped a robbery yesterday. You wouldn’t believe who they tried to rob.”

“Who?”

“I’m giving you a hint. They’re amazing, you’re a big fan, and you want nothing more than to get a tattoo by them.”

“What?!” You turn around to look at him.

 Sero grins so wide, there’s a dimple showing. “And you don’t even know the best thing?”

“What’s the best thing?”

“I told them you’re a fan and showed them pictures of your tattoos. I got their mobile phone number. Whatever you want, you can get it now.”

“Are you for real?” You ask, voice shaking with disbelief. “If you’re joking…”

“Never.” He leans forward to kiss you softly, giggling when your brows are still furrowed.

“Only the best for my baby.”

Requests for the Date Night Series are always open. All I need is a character name (and a kind of date if you want to add that)

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[voidprincess-1111]

OH MY GOD YOU WONT BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED! I ENTERED VOID

So I entered the void!!! but it was in a dream, and I still affirmed anyway.

so I took a midday nap because I hadn't slept well last night and I am typing this soon after waking up from a crazy experience. I was alone in my home and I decided to nap listening to a lucid dream subliminal. I got sleep paralysis multiple times!!! I am usually not someone who gets scared of SP but since I was alone and I was hearing voices of my family and feeling other people's presence, I got too scared. I was also breaking through SP and waking up coz I was that scared. I used to look around and go back to sleep, this happened for another 3-4 times and then suddenly I got lucid in my dreams!!!! like I have NEVERERR been lucid. It honestly kinda felt more like astral projection. I asked my mom who was in my lucid dream that if she's real..she's like.."shhh you know this is my astral body". I asked for my mom's blessing for entering the void, she asked why would you want a new life and I started crying to her :/ Then I went on to meet other new faces, and I got less and less scared and I peacefully surrendered and lucid dreamt for the longest time!!! after few mins I asked someone that I wanna enter void, she said that's cool try opening a portal and go in. So i opened a portal and fell backwards and I WAS IN THE VOID. IT FELT SO REAL. I RELT LIKE I WAS FALLINFG BUT STILL FLOATONG IN THE AIR. I SAW STARS but then I suddenly realised I could still hear the sounds. but i chose to affirm anyway and went back to sleep.

when i woke up of course nothing has changed but this is such a crazy experience for me. I got up and pondered for 5 mins if what I had was AP or LD lol. It's a huge progress nevertheless and I'm very excited to try again!

I LEARNT A LOT OF THINGS AND I WILL ENTER TONIGHT AGAINNNNN BY FOLLOWING THEM

[qqueenofhades]

Hello! I have a question that may be a tad uncomfortable but I don't know who could answer honestly. How do you get over class with a professor who self identifies as your mentor/father? He spilled his guts to me after class and told me how happy he was he connected to a young girl like me(Im 19 he's 59). He will be my prof for the ENTIRE year. I don't know how to feel, it wasn't flirty at all, and I actually think he sees himself in me. He's odd and off putting and stand offish. I am too, kinda. He said if shouldn't feel lonely because Im different, because I have my family, and now him (also Implied i should find god).

He's a conservative catholic with a wife and kids, I can tell he doesn't mean it in a weird way. He probably means well. But it's odd that he's acting like a mentor when I've only known him for a month.

Now, I thought this chat wouldn't affect me but he psychoanalysed me and it felt like he saw right through me while treating me like his therapist. I also think he's a lonely man who is projecting, seeing my potential and "what could've been" for himself.

How do I cope? I don't want this to affect me, but it pushed me terribly off axis. I felt pigeonholed, more than anything, and also feel bad for him.

WELP. Okay, first of all, I want to reinforce that this is NOT your fault and that it clearly creeped you out to the point where you decided to ask someone for help, all of which means that the situation is not okay and he does NOT have the right to do any of this -- whether forcing emotional intimacy on you after a very short time, suggesting that you Find Jesus and/or convert, hinting that he wants to "mentor" you, or whatever. Just because he's a conservative Catholic is no guarantee that it won't get creepier (indeed, often the total opposite) and even if it wasn't sexual or didn't feel sexual at the moment, that is... wrong. He should not have done it. He does not have the right to decide He Is Now Your Mentor and to push that connection on you. Even if it was not conscious or intentional grooming behavior, it is... squicky to say the least, showed that he was willing to push boundaries with you right away, and is certainly something that should make you cautious of any more uncontrolled or one-on-one interaction with him. So yeah. Gross. "Now you have me so you won't be lonely"??? Sorry, there is no scenario in which I can imagine that being an okay thing for a professor to say to a student. No. It may be that he just doesn't have a good sense of social boundaries or appropriate behavior, but that also doesn't mean you need to excuse it.

Next, if you can switch to another section or class so you don't have to spend the year with him, that might be worth looking into. If you can't, then obviously minimize the time you spend one-on-one (if there are office hours or if you need help with the class, maybe ask your peers or the TA if there is one, rather than him) and remember that you can tell people at your university if it continues to creep you out, not just me. There are procedures in place at most institutions to document this kind of interaction if it continues to cross a line (I don't know where you are in the world, but in the university where I work in the US, there's an office of Title IX, which deals with these kinds of issues). Older male academics smarming up to young female students and telling them they're "special" happens a lot, unfortunately, and while it doesn't always end terribly, it is something that you deservedly flagged as weird and which you should keep an eye on going forward. I'm sorry that you've experienced this and once again offer my support in navigating this year in as un-icky a way as possible. Please remember that you do not have to apologize for or excuse yourself for making choices to get out of a weird situation that clearly threw you for a loop, and you do not have to put up with this behavior if it continues or gets worse. Good luck.