#not even my goddamn birthday and i'm already fucking over it

[kiwisbell]

Boots [joel miller]

Joel doesn't like the idea of someone else gettin' all your best.

pairing: joel miller x female!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: jealous joel giving you a lesson in who really likes you best, birthday sex, (over)protective joel, softie joel, dominant joel, oral sex (m and f receiving), face-sitting, riding, no plot just porn and some fluff because it's me, possessive sex, praise kink, squirting, established relationship

word count: ~ 4.5k

hello, all! i'm beginning to unload my fics onto tumblr for those who prefer reading in this format - and as a result, some of you lovely folks who follow me will likely see works you've already read before. i sincerely apologise for that, but many new projects are in the works as well because i love y'all and i live to please. that aside, if you're new here, welcome, and i hope you enjoy this one-shot!! <3

BOOTS

If there's anything you know about Joel, it's that he can get real angry. 

It ain't like he's always mad. He lives a lot of his life in utter silence, but you like to watch him. Sometimes, in the dark, he sits on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers and bringing them to his chin. He’ll sit like that for hours without moving, barely shifting to take in air, and you know never to shake him from that trance. It’s how you’ve learned to read between the lines. 

After fifteen years by his side, you can gauge his moods better than the weather. He’s got a restless spirit, but his voice is midnight water. It’s calm and dark and clear, and it rumbles: the ripples left behind by skipping stones. He never lashes out at you, never raises his voice. 

Except for that one time in New Jersey. 

“Are you goddamn fuckin’ stupid?”

This was a little while before you could patent your Joel-handling techniques, so you did what any woman would do when a man calls her stupid: you folded your arms over your chest and got just as mad. “Stupid?” you said incredulously. “I saved your ass in there. Multiple asses, actually.”

Above you, the canopy of brilliant red leaves felt like a bloody shawl, and they crackled underfoot. You sported a limp thanks to a sprained ankle and your lip was bloody, but you were fine. Truly. And yet, Joel’s anger was pulsating. You could see it: heat waves, distorting the air around him, his brows flattening over his eyes and his nostrils flaring. A bull ready to charge. He was brimming with the need to release this energy. 

Behind you, a building burned. The fire was a monstrous, lively thing, and it scorched the hairs on the back of your neck. Inside lay the bodies of the men you’d stolen the medical kits from, along with two of your own crew. It was only you and Joel left. It was autumn, and the breeze was welcome in such relentless heat. 

He’d been ambushed just as much as the rest of you, but rotten fuckin’ luck had pinned a man on top of him—armed with a knife, inches from Joel’s eye. Not trusting yourself to make a shot without hitting him, too, you had tackled the man without thinking much. It had worked well enough to send his knife clattering across the burning hut. He’d landed a punch to you before Joel had blown his head clean off. Brain matter still clung to your jeans, but you tried not to look. When you’d rolled the body off you, Joel shot him again. He was covered in blood from his greying hair to his boots.

“Your job is to look out for yourself out there,” he snapped, “not me. The fuck were you thinkin’?”

Your frown only deepened. What had you been thinking? Maybe leaving him to die would teach him a lesson or two about what it was like to fear for someone’s life. Even if it was his own. “We need to go. You can yell at me later.”

Joel didn’t say anything when he kneeled at your feet and lifted your ankle up onto his raised knee. You yelped when you almost toppled over, but he kept you steady and inspected the swollen flesh. He was achingly gentle when he prodded at you, his expression softening into something more like concern. “This hurt?” he asked.

“Of course it hurts, Miller.” You lifted a brow at him, but he wasn’t looking up. “Want me to try on a glass slipper, or can we go?”

“Still think that was stupid,” he grumbled. 

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you’re the only one who can navigate for shit, and I don’t fancy getting lost without my own personal compass.”

When he stood, Joel surprised you some more by gently patting your leg. “Real nice,” he said under his breath, shrugging the strap of your pack farther up your shoulder. “Stay behind me.”

You grinned up at him. “Happily.”

He never gets angry for long. Not at you.

There’s a knock at his door in the rhythm only the two of you know. He still checks the peephole, but it’s you. You slip inside, practically bounding on the balls of your feet, that cute fuckin’ grin on your face as you hide something behind your back. “Guess what day it is,” you say.

Joel will never let it leave this room that he indulges in your stupid game. “Sunday,” he tries.

Your pout is extravagant, but he’ll be damned if it doesn’t make him want to bite it off your pretty mouth. “Rhymes with smirthday. Y’know… the only day I ever ask you for anything.”

He clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

You roll your eyes and bring your hands around from behind your back. You’re holding a cupcake. 

“Holy shit. Where the fuck did you get that?”

“The FEDRA guy who monitors my building likes me,” you tell him, honest as ever. Too honest for this world and too damned sweet to be anything but a liability. And yet, here he is, digging, indulging, sinking his claws in. “Enough to sneak this to me from the kitchen, apparently.”

That makes him feel real fuckin’ grumpy. Nobody with eyes would be enough of a fool to deny that you’re gorgeous, but it doesn’t make him sleep any better knowing other men are chasing that brilliant twinkle in your eyes. He wants to tuck it between his ribs and let it illuminate his insides. He doesn’t want anyone else to see it, not ever.

“He’s tryin’ to make a move on you,” says Joel. “That’s what that is.”

If there’s a second thing you know about Joel, it’s that he lives with his foot in his mouth. Unfailingly. 

You have long since learned the tactics of Joel-handling. You'd be offended if it were anyone else, but you just pat his cheek affectionately. “Sit down.”

To his credit, he does, but not after some grumbling. You scrape the second chair along the floor until it's right next to him. You split the cupcake in two as best you can and pass him one of the halves. Joel eyes it suspiciously. “You sure this is edible?”

You just take a bite and groan. It's been a long time since you've tasted chocolate, let alone the decadence of over-sweet frosting. Joel watches you carefully. Your lashes flutter in your trancelike enjoyment, a small speck of white frosting on the top of your nose. He's overcome with the knowledge that people in this world would try and take you from him. That people have put guns to your head, that they have harmed you, that they'll do it again and again. This world does not leave a woman like you untouched. 

It's a good thing you've got him to make sure the world goes nowhere near you. 

“Got frosting on your nose,” he says gruffly, trying to suppress his smile as he swipes it away with his thumb. “Some killer you are.”

You kick your legs up onto his lap. His thumb idly circles your ankle bone. “I don’t pretend to be a killer. I get by just fine, Miller.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow. “And if I wasn’t here?”

You shrug. “Dead, probably.”

Joel takes a bite of the fucking cupcake and he's a little mad when it's not bad. 

You sit at the window on his bed later, your knees drawn up to your chest and your cheek resting atop them. You like to watch the lights of the FEDRA vehicles and the occasional star that winks at you from high above the QZ. You're a pretty sight to look at all the time, but it feels somehow more delectable when you don't know he's looking. 

It's nearing midnight, and you're getting up to leave. Curfew means you have to scurry back to your apartment across the street or you'll be stuck here all night. It also means you have to walk right past the same officer who snuck you that cupcake. 

“You asked me once if I ever wanted to end it.”

Across the fire, he looked like a spectre: a thing you could not touch, sizzling tendrils of silvery air curling around crackling flame. You’d stopped for the night, and neither of you wanted to sleep. Even though you’d both seen enough fire for a lifetime, you still extended your palms toward it and let it warm you as you watched his dark brown eyes grapple for a way through the thistly wood of his past.

“I tried,” he told you. “After I lost her.”

Somehow, you felt undeserving. Like wrapping your fingers around a piece of Joel Miller’s steel-hard aorta and yanking out all the precious bits that came with it. Like licking the blood from the heart and shoving it back inside. Would he ever be the same knowing another soul in the world had this information? Would he come to regret telling you?

He watched you stand and shuffle up next to him on the piss-poor, blood-stained excuse for a sleeping bag. When your fingers lifted to the scar on his throat, he did not flinch away. Your hands were warmed by the fire. It filled the very soul of you, that flame. He did not meet your eye, but you looked into his nonetheless. 

“I’m happy you missed.” A hand, warm and kissed by a tenderness he would never deserve, settled at the nape of his neck. Fingers gently combed through the grey strands, and he leaned into your touch, not quite understanding the pull but giving in nonetheless. For the first time in years, he thought he might be able to sleep if you just kept touching him like this.

Your next words were soft, but they were not afraid. “But I’m sad I never got to meet her.”

His head turned, and at last, his eyes met yours. 

“Me, too.”

You smiled sadly. “Joel.”

“Don’t ever,” he said slowly, his hand squeezing your knee, “play fast and loose with your life again. Your life happens to fuckin’ matter to me.”

And that was that. 

At some point, this began. Neither of you attempt to define how or when. Perhaps it has always been. It isn’t like time matters anymore.

When you pass Joel on your way to the door, he grabs your wrist. 

“Does that FEDRA fucker know whose place you go to every night?”

You sigh, turning your head to meet his eyes: glimmering black beetles in the dim light. “Joel. Don’t be an asshole.”

But he’s long past trying not to be an asshole, especially when it comes to people honing in on his fucking territory. He tugs you by the waist so your back is pressed against his chest. His fingers are splayed over your belly. “You like him?” he says into your ear. 

Your lashes flutter on your cheeks. “Joel.” His name sounds like the citrus of the oranges you like from the cafeteria. It’s sweet and tangy and somewhat discrete. “You know I need to meet with Robert about the battery tomorrow. You’ll keep me up all night.”

A grunt rumbles deep in his chest. “You’re not goin’ to see Robert alone.” 

“That was part of his deal.” You gasp when he buries his face in your neck, sucking at the skin beneath your ear. He’ll make it show up angry and purple for the FEDRA officer and, fuck it, the entire QZ to see. He’ll litter your whole body with bruises and hickeys like he's a goddamn teenager if that's what it takes to keep you here. 

“Shit fuckin’ luck.” His fingers dip to the waistband of your jeans. Your hips rock subtly and he smirks against your skin. “Robert doesn't get to decide how this goes.”

“Yeah, he does. He’s the one with the battery.” 

The scratch of his beard is rough and deliberate against your neck. “If he doesn't wanna see me,” says Joel, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding the zipper down, “he can tell me himself.”

“He’s terrified of you.”

Joel turns you around and presses you right up against his chest. You feel his hardness at your belly, the sear of his gaze through yours. “Good,” he says. “Get on the bed.”

It’s already midnight, which means you’ll get chewed out if you try to leave now. Joel’s plan, you guess. “You jealous of a little FEDRA officer, Miller?” Backing toward the bed, you smile up at him, coy and teasing.

“You never answered my question.” He chases your body, stalking toward you as his hand juts out to squeeze your hip. Your legs hit the edge of the bed. “Do you like him?” 

His lips are so close you could just surge toward him and end this suffering. But he's keeping you at arm’s length, keeping you pliant under his touch because he knows—the bastard—that he’s winning. 

Still, getting a rise out of Joel Miller is your birthright. “Would you rather I fuck a Firefly?” 

A faint sneer twists his mouth, and this is his anger. This is the simmering, thrilling thing that infests your very blood. He’s jealous, and you're surprised at how deliciously it thrums in your lower spine, knowing he’s furious at the thought that someone else could even come close to the way he knows you. 

The kiss begins slowly. For the heat you can feel through the press of his chest against yours, his nose only gently nudges yours as he works his way up to claiming your mouth. When he does, it’s a bizarre and dizzying shift compared to the rage you know he feels. The desire to march out onto the street and beat that officer to near-death. He compensates with a unique tenderness, taking his time with you, his hand pressing down against the exact spot on your lower back that forces his hips to mould to yours. His other cups your face, his fingers winding into your hair and curling at the back of your neck. It forces you to look up at him. 

His beauty loops like a knot through your nerves. If you prodded any spot on your skin, the blood beneath would sing with the topography of him. You know the lines of his face better than your own. There is a patch in his beard that resembles a heart. There is a twinkle in his eye that lingers when he frowns and smiles. It’s a rare thing in such a sullen person. But you like finding those eyes in the dark. Somehow, for you, he’s hope.

When his lips finally meet yours, they're soft, and he lets you reach up to tangle your fingers in his soft, messy hair even though he’s doing everything he can to keep you under his control. Not that you mind. He knows you're his. 

He deepens the kiss with a soft groan, curving his body over yours, tongue seeking the seam of your lips. You part them willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Joel growls softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock. 

“MmmmmJoel.” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely that you’re supposed to be teasing him. 

“Careful,” you gasp, barely able to form words around his mouth on yours. “Gonna hurt your back.”

That only seems to egg him on. He may not be young and agile anymore, but that’s never stopped him from giving you what you need. He turns you around and lies on his back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of him. Your jeans go quickly, sliding down your hips with your panties and dropping somewhere on the floor. Your shirt follows, his fingers enjoying their path along your shoulders as he slips your bra straps down: a rare moment of indulgence and appreciation in a world that does not allow either. 

For a moment, he just looks at you, brushing the pad of his thumb across your chin. Your eyes glimmer from the light through the window. “You only like me,” he says. Matter-of-fact. He knows. 

But you smile, because he decided to say it anyway. “I only like you, Joel Miller.”

A hand kneads your ass, giving it a smack. You jump in his grasp, but he just gives you that crooked smirk and whispers: “Come take a seat.”

You rear back, frowning at him. Is he—

“You waiting for a sweeter invitation, baby?” His voice is low and gruff, unused to compromise. You feel his fingers dig into your ass and pull you up onto his chest. Your cunt is slick with anticipation and the ichor of desire. 

He wants you on his face. 

“What if I—”

“Sit.” Every letter feels like a deliberate strike, bone-deep. “C’mon, now.”

Let me show you how much I like you. 

Your bottom lip between your teeth, you shuffle gingerly up his chest until you can brace your hands on the wall, your cunt hovering over his mouth. Joel doesn't like that. He wraps his hands around your upper thighs and forces you down onto his face. You gasp his name, one hand flying to his hair and locking your fingers in his locks. “Fuck.”

He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It’s white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole. “Joel, Joel, fuck,” is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there. 

One of Joel’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts, reverent and gentle despite their roughness. Those hands have been split and bloodied, but they hold you like they’ve never known anything but kindness. His eyes closed, savouring the taste of you, his fingers trace a scar on your sternum from an incident at knifepoint six years ago. He cannot see it, but he knows it nonetheless. 

Joel is greedy when he has his face buried in your pussy. He doesn’t get the opportunity to take his time like this often; the both of you have only ever been acquainted with impermanence. But now, tucked comfortably between your thighs, licking between your folds like a starving fuckin’ dog, taking what he wants from you. 

The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the wall uselessly. “Joel,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, moonlight bursting on your eyelids. “I… can’t… so good—”

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He’ll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever—if he hasn't already. He’ll make sure you never have another man like you have him. 

It’s a selfish thing, love. He's mastered clutching it to his chest and keeping his palm closed right around it. 

“I’m… oh, fuck, I’m gonna…” Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. “Oh, my—gonna come!”

He knows. You're already coming. Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the wall, ensuring you don’t fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Joel keeps lapping at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation. Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He’s so hard he can’t conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet. 

Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Joel grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather. “Are you going to let me take your pants off?” you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle. 

He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop. Your wicked little smile is so pretty in the darkness, illuminated briefly by passing patrol vehicles through the window. Unbuttoning his shirt, you dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his soft belly and the trail of hair disappearing under his waistband. 

Joel moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. There’s a tattoo on his inner thigh that you like to trace with your fingers, something he got with his brother when they were young. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “Jesus,” he groans. “Baby, c’mon, let me—”

Your soft lips parting around the throbbing head of his cock destroy whatever end to the sentence he had planned. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate his thick, heavy weight in your mouth. He huffs, grumpy that he can't think straight for long enough to stop you and overcome with pleasure all the same. You squeeze his thigh again, your thumb rubbing circles over the little tattoo, and he meets your eyes. They're watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him. 

When your nose meets the thatch of hair above his base, he’s the one who chokes, his head tipping back. “Jesus, fuck, goddamn—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach. 

“Come up here,” he rasps. You do, crawling up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft. 

Your mouth drops open at the jolt of pleasure to your cunt. “Oh…”

“That’s it, baby.” 

He cannot come inside you, but he can come like this. And he will, probably faster than he likes; your pretty lips parted, your eyes lidded and boring into his even as you grind along his cock, unwavering. You look good like this. You look happy and soft and all his. 

Joel’s hands clutch you a little harder, roll you a little faster, your hands supporting your weight on his firm chest. He’s so fucking close, your wet pussy soaking his length and his tip catching on your sensitive clit with each roll of your hips, but he needs you to come again. You come first. 

“Joel,” you sigh, your thighs locking tight around his hips, nectar and frosting and citrus. 

“I know,” he says, “I know. Keep goin’, baby. C’mon. Doin’ so good. Jesus, so good.”

The first orgasm was a meticulous build-up. This one crashes down with the ceremony and courtesy of an ambush: it seizes your whole body and leaves you helpless. You moan his name—maybe you whisper it; everything is loud in your ears—and double over, your cheek pressed into the hollow of his throat. He keeps you moving, seeking his own high, bucking up against your cunt.

“That’s it.” His praises gently puff out across the top of your head, tucking your head under his chin, admiring the curve of your back and the supple taste of your skin under his fingers. His balls draw up and his core goes tight with imminent release. “Fuck, baby. Fuck—”

There’s a hot, wet splash against your belly, then another, and another. When you peel yourself away to watch his cum spurt onto his stomach, your cunt tightens with the pulsating rhythm of his shaft under you and another brief, but devastating, rush of pleasure surges through your whole body. It almost fucking knocks you over. You lift yourself off his cock in time to see a burst of wetness soak him, dribbling out around your bodies onto the mattress. Joel groans, his brows lifting, another spurt of cum landing on his belly. 

“Jesus Christ.”

You list to the side, unable to hold yourself up in any capacity. You land next to him, your arm belted across his chest, fondly nudging a pec with your nose. “Me, too,” you mumble. Your voice is hollow. 

Joel turns his head to face you, and you swipe some cum off his belly with your index and middle fingers, looking him in the eyes as you lick it up and swallow. He grabs you by the back of the neck and kisses you hard. “No fuckin’ FEDRA asshole,” he grumbles into your mouth, “is gettin’ anywhere near you. And neither is Robert.”

You forgot that was what this was about. “Joel,” you whisper, lips migrating from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, his scratchy beard, “you can’t keep me safe forever.”

He reaches around to grab your ass and then hitches your thigh up onto his hip. “Yeah, I fuckin’ can. Stay here.” 

“We aren’t related, or married.” You pin him with a stare. “They would never let us.”

Joel lifts his brows. You roll your eyes. “We aren’t married.”

He’ll pick a fight in the morning. But you already know you won’t be going to see Robert about the battery with your big guard dog standing just behind you. Robert can suck it the fuck up, for all Joel cares. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says, squeezing your thigh. “It was a shitty cupcake, though.”

You laugh, kissing him on the nose. “No, it wasn’t. For all you know, you may never have one again.”

“For the fuckin’ best,” he grumbles, chasing your mouth again. You let him kiss you, and neither of you get much sleep. 

He really didn't mind the cupcake.

[wynnyfryd]

💖 2024 Steddie Fic Recs 💖

@thefreakandthehair and i were talking about how so many of the fics we can name off the top of our heads are from right after the show came out because we were still actively making rec lists back then, so:

in no particular order i present to you an incomplete list of fics i love that were published or completed within the last two months

short fics (<10k)

Found God In A Tomato by @beetlesandstarss 5.7k | rated M | fluff, text fic

syrupy sweet strangers to first date fic. without spoiling anything, eddie is a flustered cutie and steve is a fuckin' menace who's lucky he's so hot

he tightened he grip by @steddieas-shegoes 1.3k | rated E | crack not treated remotely seriously

Mickala beloved your commitment to the bit makes me wanna commit myself to you 💍

Slide It In by gayhandshake 1.8k | rated E | multimedia crack

another truly impeccable work of crack fic, i laughed so hard at the first image that i made it the icon for my private discord server

what's that sound? (there's a funny man at my door) by @jewishrat420 4.8k | rated M | spicy six text fic

laughed out loud at this fic so many times i really don't know what else to tell you. as a matter of fact, i went to look at my bookmark note to see what else i had to say about it when i read it, and my note just says "fucking hilarious i laughed out loud like 6 times" 💀 did not do not will never know what else to tell you except that the phrase "the goyim of gender" just randomly pops into my brain once every four or so days now

medium fics (10-20k)

In the Kitchen or the Tulips by @teddywesworl 44k | rated E | telepathic soulmate AU

this fic said "watch me flip this trope inside out like a freshly cubed half of an avocado" and then DELIVERED. i finished this fic and then stared at the side of my husband's head for long enough that he looked over and went "wtf are you doing" lmao hush baby i am contemplating the implications

they're going to send us to prison for jerks by @greatunironic 16k | rated E | social media AU

okay firstly the premise of this fic is so specifically and delightfully unhinged; love that i'm not the only one who looks at a random tiktok account and manically whispers to myself "there's a fic in there somewhere." secondly the execution is a 10 outta 10 outta 10 outta TEN

long fics (50k+)

Sneaky Link by @morningberriesao3 152k | rated E | onlyfans au

the sex is HOT the boys are dumb as goddamn ROCKS what more do you need? oh, what's that? you do need more? sick because this fic also has: the tags "cum slut eddie munson" and "everyone is gay (because i say so)", chrissy the homophobe slayer being the cutest little spy, and jason getting his ass whooped, like, spiritually. on a spiritual level. physically unharmed but that boy's soul is missing teeth do u understand what i am saying

podfics!

it was love, love alone read by @reena-jenkins 21min | rated E

am i technically reccing my own fic on my own fic rec list? you bet your sweet ass i am, i don't even care how tacky that is reena's performance is hilarious and deserves to be listened to at least 40 more times while doing the dishes

relax (lay it back) read by @flintandfuss 1hr 10min | rated E | yogi dom steve x sub eddie

listen if i'm already being gauche then i gotta include my internet wife's belated birthday present to me, like i gotta. morally and lustfully obligated.

Schiava by @teddywesworl read by aheada_lettuce 1hr 30min | rated E | kas!eddie AU

said it once already today and i'll say it again, i cannot believe one of the best reading voices i've ever heard belongs to a person i mentally refer to as fucking lettuce LOL anyway this read is incredible and i have listened to it Times(tm)

and lastly, if you want more recs (like, 348 more specifically), you can browse my full list of public st bookmarks here

[celestialhole]

Simon Riley x GN!reader headcanons

Warnings: Contains NSFW content below the cut, read at your own risk! Sorta proofread, random as fuck but here's your din din. Thinking about Simon Riley who uses his kids as weights for him to lift while working out. Just for fun. He likes hearing his kids laugh and giggle. Simon Riley who gets hella annoyed when your family/extended family buys so much crap for the kids. "The bloody hell they need this for? Don't we already have the damn pool outside!?" Simon looked down at the huge box in their living room, it was a goddamn bouncy house for the little ones. "I dunno Si. We can put it in the frontyar-" "WE ALREADY HAVE THE BALL PIT OUTSIDE!"

Never really celebrated his birthday before meeting you. You started giving him presents, taking him out, and taking him back to hotels (or your home) to ride him til' dawn. Now that you have little ones you all plan a small birthday party for him since he's old and grumpy. You give him one of his favorite desserts, have all the kids pile on him, and show him some love it resulted in him counting to 5 before chasing them all down while you record all of it.

Will fantasize about what life could've been like if his family were still here with him, what it could've been like if they had lived long enough to meet you. He's sure his Mother and Nephew would've loved you, and his brother would tease him n' say something like, "Now you know how it feels, it ain't as bad as you thought huh?" He wished to God he'd get to experience that in another lifetime. In my world, he doesn't celebrate Christmas and we know damn well why. If he's been with you for a long time he'll find a way to make something for you to make it special or he'll buy you something you mentioned wanting a few weeks or months back. But don't expect him to place a big ass tree in his apartment. If you manage to convince him to buy a tree he'll buy it and maybe a few ornaments he likes but the rest you're buying. Riley totally tore that bitch up and trust me, he tried to stop her but it was too early in the morning for that and he didn't want the tree anyways so he just sighs, puts some tea on the kettle grabs his reading glasses and his favorite book, and just relaxes on the couch as his military dog is tearing up your 350$ Christmas tree. "Jesus fucking Christ what happened in here!?" You stumbled over an ornament as you walked into the living room. Simon was chilling peacefully on the couch as Riley held a broken branch in her mouth and they both looked as if there wasn't a shit tone of ornaments and small pieces of the tree everywhere. It looked like a cluster fuck in your living room. "Tree became a chew toy," Simon mumbled. "I can see that.. And you didn't stop her?!" You narrowed your eyes at him. "Tried to, then it fell and I gave up," Simon took a sip of his tea and turned a page of the book he was reading. "Oh for fucks sake Simon.." You rubbed your eyes and leaned against the wall. He glanced up at you from the couch with an amused smile and looked back down at his book. "...This is what happens when we don't listen to Simon says-" "I'm kicking you and Riley out." You cut him off.

I see this man with an uncut shave because he's too lazy for that shit, however, if he notices he has a whole ass fucking jungle down there he'll trim it and then leave it alone for another 5 months. A solid 7 inches when soft and hard. Girth? Lots of it. Saggy balls. The type of man who doesn't notice when you get something done (hair, nails, etc). When you ask him if he notices anything different he'll immediately look at your ass to see if those squats did you any good. Speaking of your ass he loves your ass. Flat or thick he's smacking it when he casually walks past you. If you're plus-sized or just thicc it's even better. Don't ever bend over with this man in your perimeter. And it's even worse when you're in front of him and walking up the stairs cause he's staring hard at it. When you bend over he's smacking it, groping it, caressing it, and if he's really bold he's sneaking a quick hump against it. It's all shits and giggles till he's in that position. And you never hold back either. Now he doesn't trust walking up the stairs in front of you because you won't stop poking his ass and he hates it he loves you anyways. Call him daddy and he's not gonna speak or look at you for the rest of the day. You've made him spiritually nauseous good job. HE'S A BODY MAN BUT IN MY WORLD HE'S A THIGH AND TUMMY MAN! Also, I can see him being obsessed with ya nipple piercings if you ever got them. But nipple piercings are one thing, a genital piercing IS ANOTHER THING. Mutual masturbation is a must on the weekend mornings. He'll wake you up with pepper kisses to your neck while his hand is rubbing your tummy, when you wake up he'll gradually run his hands over your chest and pinch your nipple before moving his hand down to caress your arousal. He sucks the skin on your shoulder and neck to pleasure you and when you turn over to stroke his already hardened cock, he groans and moves his hips to slowly thrust his cock along your hand while his fingers slowly speed up. Now imagine his groans + his morning voice. This man loves you with every fiber of his being and tries his very best to make sure you know he loves you no matter what, so don't even think about asking him if he'll still love you as a worm. He'll keep you safely tucked in the pocket of his shirt and feed you noodles. He doesn't give two shits if you're hairy, plus-sized, or "unattractive". He'll cross the Amazon or even Antarctica to eat your ass I'm just saying. Don't protest or even speak, just bend over and let him have fun with his beautiful partner.

[oozedninjas]

i will BEG YOU ON MY KNEES FOR LITERALLY ANYTHING YOU COULD POSSIBLY THINK OF FOR 2007 RAPH he just makes me so HAHWKAHAKEVBS

This time I came up with something simpler and softer, I hope it's okay :)

Summary: Raph is mustering the courage to confess his feelings, but nothing goes as he plans after your birthday party.

MDNI / Raph is 26, and so is reader/fluff/ post 2007! movie

----

"Get a room, you two." 

Donatello rolled his eyes, turning back to the computer. Raphael glared at him, on the brink of delivering a witty retort, yet he stopped upon sensing your hand on his shoulder. You shrugged it off before shooting him a wink.

"No, no, he's got a point. Let's move to your room," you delivered with a knowing look.

Raph grinned, letting out a mischievous chuckle. He thoroughly enjoyed it when you teamed up to playfully taunt his brothers.

"Yeah? I don't know, maybe we won't be able to keep it down if we go," he quipped, infusing a flirtatious tone to his words.

Donatello growled low at the cringe-inducing sensation creeping up his neck. This happened quite frequently. You and Raph would giggle while snuggling on the couch. Some times you were in his lap, some others he laid his head on your legs while you massaged his head or played with the red bandana.

You shared many things together: meals, phone calls, your apartment (especially when he and Leo fought—hell, he even allowed you to use his bike!), and when you weren't teasing each other, you were playfully flirting. Although, at times, it seemed too genuine to be lighthearted. At least in Donatello’s opinion. 

He did his best to ignore both of you and once you left, he and the others started blitzing Raph with numerous questions. Why do you always act like that? Raph, do you like them? Are you secretly dating or something? Raph, have you asked them out yet? 

“Relax, we’re just messing around,” he deflected. 

"You must be careful with your words, Raphael," Splinter said. "Sometimes we dismiss what we think could tear our hearts apart, but that doesn't mean it'll go away, and if you let it linger there for too long, one day you may come to regret it.”

That struck a chord in him.

"I'm old enough to discern my feelings, thank you," Raphael snapped.

Now, one would have thought that after such a sharp response, Raph would not have dwelled on the matter any further. Yet, much to his annoyance, those queries circled in his head all week—a week during which he continued hanging out with you as usual. The only difference was that now he couldn't shake this tingle from his chest.

Perhaps it's always been there, he thought. Maybe he just hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge it.

Do you like them?

You smiled at him at that very moment, and he knew. The realization hit him like a goddamn train at maximum speed. He had feelings for you. Real feelings. Romantic feelings.

Fuck.

Never in a million years would you feel the same about him; he knew it. And even if you did, he was a mutant living in the sewers. What could he possibly offer you? You know, besides always protecting you and taking care of you. Would you be okay just with that? Would it— would he be enough for you?

****

“I think they like you back,” Casey asserted, shooting a smile at Raph. “Just ask them out.”

They found themselves on the rooftop of Casey's shared apartment with April. It was their habitual pullout, a place to unwind for a couple of hours after their patrol shift, when the night was too bright to head home.

Casey swung his bat absentmindedly through the air, while Raph sat with his legs hanging from the building, watching the hasty lights of various cars speeding below.

“I don’t know. What if they don’t? I don’t wanna risk what we have.”

"Raph, trust me, they like you back. Besides, you both look like a married couple already! Like, that fight over the cookies the other day? Come on,” Casey chuckled at the memory.

Raphael scratched the back of his head, trying to tone down the heat creeping up his neck. Yeah, maybe you did look like a married couple.

****

After pondering it for a few weeks, Raphael made up his mind to speak from his heart. He gathered the courage to talk to you and confess his feelings. Not tonight, though. Tonight was your birthday, and you both agreed to hang out after your small party at the lair.

He made sure you had a pleasant evening and gifted you a pretty handmade bracelet. After the song and the cake that Mikey lovingly baked, you both headed to your apartment for a movie.

Now he found himself in your bed, right next to you, and God, you looked beautiful. Who could concentrate on the TV with such a sight beside it? Certainly not Raph. He stared for so long that it didn’t take much time for you to notice.

“Is something wrong, babe?” You asked.

Babe

You’ve never called him that before, not even during fake-flirting. His heart rate pitched inside his plastron. Warmth flushed his cheeks. Damn. He turned quickly, trying to swallow the butterflies in his stomach. 

“Nah, just watch the movie,” he mumbled. 

“I was, you were the one staring at me,” you noted. 

“No I wasn’t” 

“Hmm, I positively think you were.”

“Well, what if I was?” he retorted.

You grimaced at the sudden harsh, low-key annoyed tone. Something felt off, and judging by his behavior over the past week, you already knew what it was. Grinning, you asked:

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

Raphael turned back to you, his heart beating faster now, a tingling sensation in his hands. Your gaze was flirty, but not as playful this time.

“You know I do,” he said simply. 

Damn, this was much easier when he hadn’t realized he had a crush on you.

“I think you’re really good looking too.” 

“I know,” Raph smirked, trying his best to play it cool. 

You snorted, turning completely towards him. Stretching your hand out, you ran your fingertips over the bracelet.

“This was incredibly thoughtful, you know? I love it. But you know what would be an even greater birthday present?”

“What?” He prompted.

“If you said this was our first date.” 

All doubts, nervousness, and his plans of awkwardly confessing were thrown out the window with that single phrase. His smile this time was wide, his gaze radiant with satisfaction and confidence.

"It is," he placed his hand over yours, his hold impossibly tender. "At least to us. The whole crew is convinced we're already dating," he said casually, suddenly unable to stop smiling.

“Yeah, I know. The other day your father asked me some things…”

Raphael gasped, horrified. “What did he ask you?!”

You chortled at the expression he made. Man, this was about to become the best birthday night ever.

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

An excerpt from my unfortunately likely very belated birthday fic for @wynnyfryd my beloved:

It’s not like there’s a definitive set of tracks that Eddie’s on the wrong side of, but there’s something about being in Loch Nora, driving through the suburbs of these rich-y rich neighborhoods that made his skin crawl. Like he’s wearing a huge neon red sign that says I’m not supposed to be here. But there are a few things he’ll venture out to Doucheville for.

The main one being money.

Okay — the only one being money. But who was he to turn down practically double his normal rates simply because Heather Holloway was too prissy to meet in the woods? Whatever, for that much extra cash he’d throw in home delivery just this once.

Of course, because nothing in Eddie’s life is fair or easy, it backfires. Not in the lack of payday kind of way, he thinks, patting the thick roll of cash newly stuffed into his back pocket. That part had gone just fine. Heather had played her part of the stuck up cheerleader and Eddie the scummy drug dealer and yada yada everybody went home happy.

It backfires more in the almost crashed his van into a tree and died simply because he’s a horny idiot kind of way.

Because the universe apparently decided that Eddie, who’d literally promised himself that he was no longer going to be an obsessed freakazoid over Steve goddamn Harrington, must be tested, must truly suffer. Why else would right now be the exact moment in time he drives past the guy while he's clearly on a run and sporting a pair of nearly indecent length running shorts coupled with a — jesus h. christ — a Hawkins High Marching Band t-shirt cut into a crop top revealing a gloriously thick treasure trail. And muscles. So many muscles.

The universe clearly wanted Eddie to die.

And now Eddie has to sit here, rubbing awkwardly at the bruise he definitely feels blooming on his forehead from the unfortunate whack it’s taken against his steering wheel. Because, as mentioned — idiot. He has to sit here while Steve fucking Harrington peers into his open window with this unfathomably sweet look of concern on his stupid angelic face that makes Eddie, for a moment, kinda wish he was dead. Especially because his brain decides, “There was a squirrel!” is the best thing to blurt out when Steve asks if he’s okay. The hasty, “I mean, I’m fine,” Eddie adds after definitely helps sell it a lot. He can tell by the way Steve’s brow is all furrowed in a stupidly cute stupid way.

“I dunno, man,” Steve says (and Eddie definitely does not stare as he watches a single bead of sweat drip down the slope of Steve’s throat, over those pair of freckles Eddie absolutely hasn't thought about sinking his teeth into), "I kind of have a lot of experience with head injuries and that looked like it hurt. Are you sure –"

"Why do you care?"

Steve's worried expression crumples into something steely that just makes Eddie feel like even more of a dick than he knows he's already being. "I just know how shitty concussions can be, sorry for worrying about you, I guess --"

Fuck. Eddie sighs. It would be so much easier if Steve was the jerk Eddie'd always thought he was instead of what he's really turning out to be, which is such a fucking sweetheart that Eddie can't help but want to do a lot of really, really not sweet things to him. "Shit, no -- I'm being an asshole. Maybe chalk it up to that possible head trauma you're worried about?"

Steve is quiet for a moment, but then that look of cool detachment disappears, and he smiles, all gleaming white teeth, and it feels like watching the fucking sun splitting through storm clouds or some shit. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie blinks and sees that Harrington's got his middle finger up, flipping him the bird with such a smug little smirk on that pretty face that Eddie can't help it. He laughs. "Cute."

"You really think so?" Maybe it's the heat. That's gotta be it, Eddie thinks, watching how Steve's cheeks flush, watches as it spreads down past his throat, past those tufts of chest hair poking up teasingly past the stretched out collar of his borrowed t shirt.

The t-shirt Steve had so clearly borrowed from Robin. Robin, who was supposedly Harrington's girlfriend. The image of Robin from earlier in the cafeteria that day wearing Steve’s letterman jacket flashes across his mind and he has to bite him own tongue to stop himself from wincing.

Eddie's gonna throw up. Maybe he does have a concussion after all.

[muddyorbsblr]

you deserve better

See my full list of works here!

Summary: When all the plans you'd made for today go down the drain, the last person you expected shows up at your door to try turning the night around

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst; language; craptastic friends [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad, that is all 🫠

"Fucking dammit!"

You gripped your phone tightly in your hand, resisting the urge to chuck it into the sea right where the ship's rotor blade was located. Tears burned behind your eyes as every message you'd missed in the last week while you were on this research trip with Monarch trickled in at a steady pace now that you and the rest of the crew had signal again.

Where your fellow scientists were calling up loved ones on FaceTime with bright smiles on their faces and assurances that they were on their way back home, you had an influx of messages from your friends telling you that no, they wouldn't be making your birthday dinner tonight after all.

"Doctor Y/L/N?"

Oh fuck not him, doesn't he have a pool bar to get to so he can snap his fingers and get tonight's lay? you snidely thought to yourself, steeling your stance at the sound of former Captain James Conrad's voice. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. "What's up, Conrad? Looking to split an Uber and Brooks doesn't wanna--"

"Are you alright?"

His question felt like a shock to your system, making you blink your eyes repeatedly as if you were trying to get your bearings back. "Of course," you lied through your teeth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" he trailed off, motioning toward your hand. "You're gripping your mobile so hard your knuckles are turning white, for one."

You glanced at your hand, sighing when you saw your skin stretched taut over bone and trying to relax your grip somewhat. "Fine," you gritted out. "If you really wanna know, it's my birthday today. I had plans to spend tonight with my friends once I'd unpacked and washed that goddamned island off of my skin. But some people in that group can't seem to let petty high school shit go, and today when we finally got signal again I got a metric fuckton of messages from one of said friends calling me either a bad friend or a dumbass for extending an invitation to my friends because it's inconvenient for her, which then led to a domino effect of if she's not going then I'm not going and now…" you trailed off, chuckling sardonically to yourself. "Now no one's going."

Something akin to pity crossed the tracker's eyes, making you look away. The last thing you needed right now was the most jaw-droppingly unfairly handsome man on the face of God's green earth to look at you like a sad wet little puppy left out on the side of the road.

"Anyways I'm off," you said a little too chipper it even made you cringe a little inside. "Got a date with a pizza box, fridge full of wine, and my Netflix account. 'Till the next one, Conrad."

Before he could say anything else, you were already walking to your Uber that just pulled up, finally letting yourself let go of all the hot air you were running on and quite aptly feeling deflated. When you were finally far enough from the port that Conrad wasn't even a speck in your line of sight, you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

You felt exponentially worse when you got home, most of the food that you'd placed an order for before you left on the trip to be delivered today already waiting on your porch.

"Fucking dammit," you repeated, albeit this time with a whimper rather than a roar. You propped your door open and started bringing the food in, deciding to set aside a couple of days worth of meals for yourself and then giving the rest to a nearby food bank so that it would at least do some good.

It took a few hours but you were finally perched on your couch, wearing a comfy pajama short set, Kate & Leopold playing on your TV, and tucking straight into a tub of mudslide ice cream just letting the night pass. This definitely wasn't how you pictured spending your 30th birthday, but you strived to remember that there could have been worse ways to spend tonight.

You could've been mediating between spatting friends because they couldn't manage to keep civil for one night, or you could've been on the receiving end of Deena's tirade about "how duplicitous you were to drag her into a gathering with Shana". The island would've been a better alternative than dealing with that all night.

About 30 minutes into the movie you heard a knock on your door, causing you jump in your seat. "I didn't order anything!" you hollered toward your front door, wincing at the pins and needles starting to prickle at your feet and lower legs from the motion.

Whoever was outside knocked again, this time a bit more persistent with the sound booming across the living room. Your visitor, whoever it may be, wasn't here by mistake, and they weren't about to be waved off with a simple 'go away I'm pissy'.

"I told you, buddy, I didn't order any--" Your words stopped short on the tip of your tongue as you saw nothing but broad shoulders clad in a familiar tight and worn blue t-shirt stretched tight over well-defined pectorals, only this time with an off-the-rack casual blazer draped over it. Your eyes slowly traveled upward to meet the oceanic blue eyes that quite frankly you constantly tried and failed not to dream about whenever you drifted off to sleep at night. "Conrad…" you said his name slowly, as if every part of your brain was fighting against accepting the reality that he was here now, looking like the human embodiment of Lust on ridiculously long legs. "What're you doing here?"

There were quite a few thoughts that crossed your mind in the last few hours, scenarios that you'd conjured up on how the rest of the night would go, each of them dwindling in their respective probability as the hours ticked on. Former SAS Tracker James Conrad being at your door, however, was definitively not among those scenarios.

"Erm…I thought I would come over to check on you. You were visibly…understandably…upset when we parted ways at the pier," he answered, shifting his weight to one leg as if trying to make it all sound so casual. He looked over at how you were dressed, from the haphazard ponytail down to the fuzzy monster slippers covering your feet, and resumed his stance that you'd grown accustomed to with the squared shoulders and the ramrod straight back as if he was back on training grounds. "Get dressed, Y/L/N."

You jerked your head backwards, surprise and confusion flooding your system at the soft spoken order. "Why?"

"I'm taking you out for dinner," he stated plainly. "I know you had plans for tonight and they didn't pan out the way you intended. No one should such an important day alone unless they really want to."

"Conrad, please. I'm fine, everything's fine. You don't have to check in on me or take me out to dinner or keep me company out of--I don't even know, pity? You have your own thing and I don't wanna keep you from it or the hordes of women who would probably abandon all common human decency and trample over each other to get that blazer off of you." You finished your little lament with a wave toward the garment, already stepping back like you were about to send him off to better and more interesting company.

When he sensed what you were about to do, he reached out, putting your hand in a delicate hold. "The night has barely begun, and you're in pajamas, eating ice cream, and one of your comfort movies is playing on the screen." He motioned his head towards your TV, where Hugh Jackman and Meg Ryan were currently paused mid-waltz on a New York rooftop. He brought his hand up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over the corner of your mouth before softly saying, "This isn't fine. And I know that I'm not the company you expected or perhaps even prefer. I just--I wanted to come here tonight and just let you know…that I'm here. So…you could join me for dinner or alternatively I could join you here and you can talk my ear off with your movie commentary. The point is that you won't be spending your birthday alone."

His words left you stunned to near silence. "I uhm--I'll go get dressed then." You stepped back from his hold, an irrational part of you already missing his touch, awkwardly waving toward the sitting area. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

Once you'd started to make your way up the stairs, Conrad made his way to the living area of your house, a smile making its way to his face as he looked at the framed pictures you had on your shelves, your dimpled toothy grin on full display. "Oh, Y/N," he breathed your name almost reverently in the silence. "How the hell am I going to move on from you now?"

Earlier today when you'd all disembarked off the ship, he had plans to wash up and head off to a bar to look for someone to keep him company for the night, perhaps until Monday when you were all expected to return to Monarch for briefing on your next mission. All he wanted was to find someone who held even the faintest resemblance to you and lose himself in the chimera that you were the one he was with, that he held you in his arms as he woke up that next morning, and with that indulgence to tide him over for some time, perhaps he could maintain the professional, nearly friendly, relationship that he had with you without running the risk of putting that in jeopardy all because he couldn't keep his affections in check.

Those plans all went down the drain when he saw how you were fighting back tears explaining how your plans for tonight had gone off the rails. When his choices for how to spend the night were spending a few empty hours with someone he would meticulously compare to you or making sure that your birthday wasn't going to be spent alone and licking wounds that should never have been dealt to you in the first place, there was no choice to make.

Tonight's objective was simply to wipe the frown away from your perfectly enchanting face, perhaps even get you to smile. And maybe somewhere along the way finally get you to see him as someone more than just your colleague. Someone that cared. A friend, if he was really going to push it.

And maybe if he was going to entertain the moon shot that played in his most self-indulgent daydreams…a lover.

The sound of you clearing your throat brought him out of his thoughts, the sight of you in your simple pale blue dress with a slight teasing cutout by your waist stealing every bit of his breath away. "Too much?" you asked him, your tone shaky.

"Not at all," he croaked out, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You uhm…you look--You're beautiful." The tiniest smile played at your lips as you motioned for him to follow you to the door. "You always are," he murmured under his breath.

"What was that?" you called out absentmindedly, still steadily making your way to the front door.

"N-Nothing," he stammered. "I was just…admiring your home. It's lovely."

"It's too damn big is what it is," you scoffed as he passed you at the threshold before locking the door. "That's what I get for being perpetually alone, I guess. Just my luck that every guy I ever even tried to date fully expects me to hang up my coat and give up my research so I can play housewife." Your eyes misted over again as the next words came out. "Not a single soul on God's green earth that could deal with that." You turned the key with a little more force than necessary, the lock clicking into place with a resounding knock.

When the two of you made your way to his car, he opened the door for you, your disbelief at the gesture evident in your eyes. And when he was sure that you wouldn't be able to hear him through the car's closed door, he whispered to himself, "I could deal with that. If it meant that you were mine, I could deal with anything."

A/N: Happy happy birthday @liminalpebble!! I hope this puts a smile on your face today and that you have a spectacular year ahead of you, bestie 🥹🥹 Many many hugs from me and Grassy the Mango (even though the bub hasn't arrived yet but it will…today. I think…)

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Happy birthday!!!!✨✨✨✨✨✨🌻🌷🌻🌻

Please: Gojo Satoru, stressed, "Well don't just stand there, do something" And "They don't deserve you"

Thanks so much 🤍

aww, thank you so much!!!! (Please ignore this is like 3 days late; lifes been weird lmao)

I was really excited to do this one, I hope you like it!

Now Presenting...

Starring: A very stressed and a little protective, Satoru Gojo

The room was tense, apprehension and fear so thick in the air that at times it felt like trying to breathe in putty. For Satoru, at least. If you were feeling any of the pressure, you were pretty good about hiding it. Absent-mindedly scrolling through social media on your phone, making a point to pay everyone else in the room no mind. Gojo knew you better than that though. He could see that you didn't stop long enough to read any of the posts, and that your finger tapping was far too frantic to be from annoyance alone. 

Finally, the Elders came in. Everyone rose out of respect and habit, and bowed low as they walked through the room. Satoru tried to catch your eye, but you were making the pointed decision to look at only the floor. His hand reached for yours, something to let you know it would be ok, but before he could make it the elders spoke.

"Rest." Gakuganji grumbled, and everyone returned to their seats. 

"I wonder how it feels to get an undeserved standing ovation every time you enter a room.." Satoru mumbled the anxious joke. For the most part, he got glares and side eyes. But, from you, he got a ghost of a smile. And that was his real goal anyway. 

“Y/n L/n, You stand trial today for using a forbidden curse technique,”  The old man said, utterly uninterested. He was just annoyed that his Monday morning tea was being interrupted. “For your crimes you-”

“Wait, What?” You scoffed, “Some fucking trial, you’re sentencing me already?”

“L/n, your crimes are clear and well documented.” Gakuganji sighed, rubbing his temple with two fingers. Your hands twitched with rage.

“Yes, I’m not arguing that I'm innocent, I’m saying my motivation for doing so should be taken into consideration.” you pointed out. Had you broken an ancient rule placed on your family a millennia ago? Yes, undoubtedly. But did you also save thousands of lives in the process? Without question. The special grade you were fighting was going to take out all of Okinawa, and your ‘forbidden’ cursed technique allowed you to exercise the curse before it even had a chance. You were not a criminal. Which is why your treatment since the incident was making your blood boil.

“Honorable as your intentions may have been, it’s no excuse for breaking a precedent that goes all the way back to the Sengoku era. Your execution will be-”

“Execution?!” you snapped. Were they really so caught up in their goddamn traditions they were going to kill you over this?! Satoru was stunned. He felt trapped in a static coffin as he processed the words. Execution? Execution? He saw you getting more and more impassioned in your argument, further digging your grave and pissing off the geezer. And then he felt your nails dig into his forearm, electrifying him back into the moment as his eyes snapped to your desperate stare.

“Don’t just stand there, do something!” You begged. He shook his head, remembering that he was Satoru fucking Gojo, surely he had some weight he could pull to save your life. He stood,

“An execution?” He said, standing up, “That’s just a little extreme don’t you think?” Gakuganji groaned in frustration, wishing for once he could just make this kid go away.

“No Gojo, I don’t. They-”

“Saved millions of lives, right. I’m well aware of the details, old man, you don’t have to explain.” he smiled, “Really, if anything we should be celebrating them. Instead you cowards want them dead? Are you really that scared of something as small as change?” Yoshinobu slammed his fist on the table before him to try and regain control of the situation. He pointed an accusatory finger at your old friend.

“Silence Gojo, I will have no more of this. My decision is final-”

“Oh, mine is too.” Satoru smiled, “If any of you even think about laying a finger on them, You’re going to have to deal with me.” He said darkly. Gojos' threat hung heavy in the air. He didn’t go into details. He didn’t have to. Everyone's eyes nervously flashed from you, to Satoru, to Yoshinobu. Everyone knew the old man had already lost, the question now was what would happen to you.

“Fine.” the head elder said, finally relenting. “But they are hereby banned from using jujutsu sorcery ever again. Any attempt to do so will result in them being labeled a curse user, and executed on sight.” You bristled at the final verdict, but both you and Satoru knew better than to try and test your luck further. At least you had your life. “We are done here.” Gakuganji siad, dismissing the room. You were the first out, followed closely by Satoru.

The two of you had managed to make it to the garden before the tears started to fall. It only made you angrier with yourself. You hated it, you hated crying, you hated how you couldn’t protect yourself during your trial, you hated that they had taken your sorcery away from you. You hated them. 

“Y/n, no-” Satoru muttered, taking you into his arms and pulling you into his chest. You had talked to him before about random hugging, especially when he saw you were in distress, but you were willing to let it slide this time. This time, his warm arms and familiar scent wrapped you in a blanket of comfort. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting the tears freely fall.

“I know right now it hurts,” He whispered softly, gently petting your hair, “But they’ll be begging you to come back, I know they will.”

“I gave them everything Satoru,” You whimpered, “I gave my life for jujutsu sorcery…”

“I know you did. They don’t deserve you.” Satoru sighed, kissing the top of your head. “And.. I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but this might actually be good.”

“How?!” You demanded.

“Because you’re finally free. You can pursue whatever life you want to live without the threat of death constantly looming over you. You’ll never have to endure all of their glares ever again, you can find a place where you’re loved, and cherished, and valued like you deserve to be. You never have to be disrespected again.” He wasn’t wrong, and the thought did bring you some solace. Still, one aspect of jujutsu society tugged at your heart. The one thing you couldn't stand the thought of leaving.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He laughed. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what choice you make, I’ll be there. If you’ll let me of course.” You couldn’t help but smile at his promise.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[therobotmonster]

So many kid's toys these days just. Arn't fun. They're designed to be COLLECTED rather than PLAYED with. Everything is a fucking blindbag. Materials are flimsy and cheap and designs don't hold up to an actual child throwing them around. And it's all so EXPENSIVE, even accounting for inflation.

To expand on my thoughts here, I'm unrolling a Twitter thread I made about this trend. (with some additions)

The Big H's handling of mainline figs is... distressing, of late. Very little push for show mains, oversupport of already saturated legacy characters, and some frankly unsettling engineering and materials choices (esp in Cyberverse).

Increase in overall fragility, thinner parts, styrene-on-styrene joints that will go floppy in a few months of light play, very little "clicks" or locks solidly... the passion is clearly in the collector's end, and that's just bass ackwards.

This repugnus would have been amazing triumph from Mego in 1970s. But for a mainline big H TF line in the 2020s? This is a backslide. And before anyone brings up that it's from the kids' line, that's the point. They're KIDS, they should get MORE care and effort in their merch.

Every toy you make might be a kid's only birthday gift or holiday present. Toys are /given/ to children, and if the work is subpar, you make a chump out of grandma. You won't be there to blame if it breaks or disappoints.

It seriously drives me nuts seeing how far the stuff-for-kids industries have fallen. There's no brands without the work, but as the poet DMX said: "these cats done forgot what work is."

All your blockbuster superhero empires start in the pulp gutters. Compared to the movies toys, games and comics will never be profitable ENOUGH to be worth it on a billion-dollar scale ledger.

"Give me mighty oaks! There's no profit in acorns!"

If you want the stuff that makes the Michael Bay blockbuster, you have to start with the stupid goofy cartoon no one had seen before where anxiety over the oil crisis was acted out by robotic Punch and Judy puppets. How many studios would greenlight TMNT or TF sight unseen today?

If you make toys and cartoons and video games, your job is to make kids happy. How is that not sacred? If anything is sacred it should be that.

Art is the act of evoking emotion, and fun is an emotion (what else could it be described as?) and it is SO IMPORTANT.

I fear that gets lost in the "what to do over next?" rush. Every artist at those companies has a dozen amazing ideas in their back pocket that won't get a chance to become the next Transformers because a studio is terrified they'll make Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors instead.

Since the world is run by Captain Planet villains, I wouldn't bat an eye if we found out venture capital was a ploy by some disgruntled warlock who just hates the goddamn Care Bears.

Just some dick at Bear Sterns singing "There's no room for joy on a spreadsheet" to a weaselly sidekick.

Cuz guys, we've got companies that make GAMES for CHILDREN hiring the Pinkertons. I repeat. Games. For. Children. That's not normal. That's not a normal thing. That is a very disturbing thing.

And its hard to even discuss without sounding like a frickin' Care Bear myself. Because how do you sum up the creeping dread that the support beams are being mined thin, and everything fun for kids will go the way of Toys-R-Us, dragged down like Artax.

I'm not advocating pure altruism here. There's plenty of money to be made giving kids an awesome experience. It's investing in future fandom. Real Brand loyalty. If you want the blockbuster 15 years from now, get them hooked on the fun cartoon now. The value-add always pays off.

For every Transformers or He-Man there's going to be several Robotix-es or Power Lords. That's a risk. A risk worth taking. New ideas should be easier and cheaper to bring to fruition now than ever. But the system won't let it happen.

[leelei1980]

Loving Mr.Munson

Part 18 -Who's your Daddy?

This piece was written from an anonymous ask, what would happen if reader called Eddie 'Daddy' ? 😈

🛑Smut warning- Mature content-18+-Minors DNI🛑

Eddie:

" Oh my god I'm so excited!! This is going to be the best birthday ever!"

My sweet Angel walked into the living room and my breath caught in my throat.

" Goddamn Sugar." Was all I could manage to get out. She stood before me wearing a red V neck shirt , her fucking rack looked absolutely exquisite , a fitted black leather jacket and a tight leather skirt that made her ass look so delicious I wanted to take a fucking bite out of it. " You do realize that every single pair of eyes in that club is going to be on you tonight, right? "

She smirked and rolled her eyes." I highly doubt thatppp Ed's. The club is going to be full of people way hotter and way sexier than I am." I watched as she bent over to zip up her knee high boots. Fuck.

" That's highly fucking unlikely." I bit my lip then went over and slapped her ass and she yipped in surprise and then laughed.I lightly rubbed my hand over the spot that I had slapped, then pulled her close to me, rutting into her.

She hummed,"Mmmmm, Mr. Munson, starting early with the birthday spankings I see. I think I'm going to need a few more Baby."

" The night is still young Sweetheart." I whispered , nibbling on her ear.

She moaned." Don't start that or we will never get out of here."She pressed her ass into me." We are supposed to meet the crew at the club in 30 minutes."

" I know, I know. You just look so fucking fine Princess." I ran my hands up her thighs, up her stomach, squeezed her breasts. " I don't know if I will be able to fucking take it, seeing you shake your sweet fucking ass all night. Do you know how many men are going to be looking at you the way that I'm fucking looking at you right now."

She laughed." Baby I think you are overestimating my sexual prowess-"

" Your a fucking snack."

" Thank you for saying that baby, but honestly your the one that will be scoring all the attention tonight. If I'm a snack your a fucking entree because you look fucking scrumptious."

When I had asked my Wife what she had wanted for her birthday I thought that maybe she would want to go away for the weekend, or want a new piece of jewelry or something like that but she replied that she already had everything she needed, and all she really wanted was for our friends to come visit so we could all go out 'clubbing'. Now I had never gone clubbing before in my life, gone out drinking for sure , gone to shows , yes , but dancing? The only dancing I did was slow dancing because that didn't require much for foot movement. I may have excellent rhythm but I have two fucking left feet, and when I explained that to her she just laughed and told me I could just stand there and look pretty and she would do the dancing for the both of us.

Having never really gone to a dance club I had her pick out an outfit for me, she chose a nice pair of jeans and a black button down shirt that she insisted I keep the first 3 buttons undone, and a pair of boots. She also pulled the top half of my hair back into a man bun. At this point I would let her do whatever the fuck she wanted with me.

" I'm going to be the oldest person in the club."

She laughed." You are not." She slid her arms around my waist." Thank you for taking me out Baby."

" Absolutely Darling. " I leaned down and kissed her forehead. " Let's go clubbing."

**********************************************************

The club was fucking insane, beautiful young people shimmying and thrusting to songs that I am pretty sure I had never heard before. It was funny, in the time that I had been with my Darling girl our age gap had been a total non issue, it just wasn't something that we even recognized, but tonight in this club, I felt fucking old. I was surrounded by twenty something's, well , with the exception of Steve , Nancy and Robin, who we're currently having the time of their lives dancing with Lisa and my Wife. She was a couple of shots and two margaritas in and she was living her best life and I was 1000% here for that.

I watched her drink, dance and laugh and my heart fluttered in my chest. This funny , exuberant, sexy woman was mine. I could see other men looking at her, their eyes wandering over her body as she danced, as she swayed her hips and shook her ass, at first it fucking pissed me off, how fucking dare they? But then I felt pity for them because when it came right down to it they could look all they fucking wanted because it didn't matter. Her heart belonged to me. Now if they tried to touch her that would be a completely different matter.

" Hey baby," she danced her way up to me, slinky and sexy, biting her lip,hips swaying to the beat of the song. I felt my fucking dick twitch.

" Hey Sweetheart, how are you doing?" I reached out and grabbed her hips pulling her close." Are you having a good time?"

She smiled up at me and put her hands on my chest, " I am having the best time Eddie Baby." She stood on her tippy toes and lightly kissed my lips. She was so fucking adorable. " But I would be having an even better time if you would come dance with me."

I smirked. " Princess, you know I can't dance-"

" I know that you can move your fucking hips though." She winked and I laughed. " Come on you.." she grabbed my hips , dancing backwards to the group . They all cheered.

Steve, who's dance floor energy was always unmatched ever since high school, clapped his hands, "Welcome to the fucking party!"

Nancy, feeling a little tipsy smiled and shimmied her shoulders and Robin, poor sweet Robin was about as good at dancing as I was but was having a wonderful time. Lisa was an absolute wild woman on the dance floor, and would shriek when certain songs would come on. That was the current situation.

" Oh my god it's our song!" She clapped excitedly. I had witnessed this about ten times over the course of the evening so far, some of their 'songs ' were Jennifer Lopez's On the floor, DMX's Party up, The Thong Song by Sisqo and Right round by flo rida. How do I know this? Because my Angel made sure to fill me in each time. The favorite song at the moment was Shoop by Salt N Pepa, that was one I actually knew.

I smiled as I watched her sing along, watched her dance , she was a ball of fucking energy right now and I fucking loved it.

When the next song came on she backed against me , wiggling her ass against me and I wrapped an arm around her waist.

" What's the name of this song Sugar?"

" Bump, Bump , bump by B2K."

Her ass bounced against my cock with each bump she sang and I thought I was going to fucking die.I swayed with her and she leaned back against me." Is this what you wanted me to do Dollface?"

" This is exactly what I wanted you to do. Look at us Baby , we are dancing. "

" If you call me grinding my dick into you dancing.."

" It's sexy. See that blonde girl over there in the purple dress? I've been watching her all night. She's had her eye on you-"

" She's probably staring because she can't believe an old fucker like me is in here-"

" She is staring at you because your fucking hot. " She stopped dancing for a moment then turned around to face me. " Guess I gotta show her that your mine." She wrapped her arms around me and brought her mouth to mine.

" Ooooh the Munson's are getting freaky." I heard Robin say in the background.

I felt my girl smile against my lips as she pulled away. She looked up at me with her big doe eyes than ran her thumb across my lower lip, removing any trace of gloss she had left behind. I kissed her thumb. " There, " she said satisfied. " Now she knows who you are going home with tonight."

I pulled her in for a hug." I've got big plans for when we get home tonight. Gonna take real good care of my birthday girl."

" You always do. You always fuck me so good baby. " She whispered in my ear. "You always know what I need."

Jesus. " Your quite cheeky when you drink tequila aren't you?"

She smiled up at me. " Tequila makes me a total slut. " She giggled.

I laughed and smiled down at her." Do you need another drink?"

" Yes please. See, you always know what I need."

I kissed the top of her head then motioned to the others that I was going to get us another round. I held her protectively against my side and we walked up to the bar, Steve following close behind. She took a seat on a barstool and we moved further down the bar to where the bartender was trying to get his attention.

As Steve and I ordered I watched a young frat boy looking motherfucker slide into the seat next to my Sweetheart and start chatting her up. She was politely talking , half paying attention , looking around the room, waving to the girls still on the dance floor.

" That guys is totally hitting on your wife." Steve leaned in. " Want me to go take care of him for you?"

" Does she look uncomfortable?" I tried to look around the crowd that surrounded the bar.

" She looks bored."

" Let me know if he puts his fucking hands on her."

" You want to go over and I will wait for the drinks?"

" Yeah. Just in case he can't take a fucking hint."

I listened to their conversation as I walked over-

" So can I buy you a drink?" Frat boy asked my Angel.

" That's sweet but I'm here with someone tonight and I wouldn't want to get your hopes up or lead you on. I'm flattered though."

" Who are you here with?" That Nosy Fucker.

" My husband, my friends."

" Your married? " He smirked.

" Yes. One whole month now. Oh, here he comes!" She beamed. " Hey Baby!"

" Hi Princess." I slid my arm around her waist. " Making new friends?"

" Eddie this is Troy, Troy this is Eddie, my husband."

Troy laughed." This is your husband? He looks old enough to be your fucking Father!"

I glared and him and was just about to open my mouth when Dollface smirked and bit her lip, slowly looking me over.

" No, he's not my Father, that's fucking Daddy right there." She winked at me.

I drew in a sharp breath.Ho-ly Fuck. I felt my face get hot, my heart started racing.

"Wha-what was that Darling?"

" Are you my Daddy, Mr.Munson?" She looked up at me with her big pretty eyes and ran a finger down my chest.

I couldn't even fucking think, that one fucking single word, Daddy, had me flustered. That one fucking word, rolling off her tongue and over her lips, made me fucking feral. In that fucking moment it was just the two of us, no fucking frat boy, no dance club full of people, just my Angel and I.

I leaned in to her ear." Do you have any fucking clue what that just did to me?"

" What baby, what did it do to you?" She smirked.

" I want you so fucking bad right now-"

She hopped down off the barstool and grabbed the front of my shirt, dragging me away. Somewhere in the background I could faintly hear Steve hollering." Ed, your drinks!"

I couldn't care less about drinks at this moment, all I could think about was stuffing my wife full of my cock.

She let go of my shirt when we reached a hallway and peeked her head into the ladies room." Stay right here for a minute I'm going to do a sweep." I watched her disappear for a moment, than I watched as two young women came out. A minute later she opened the door and waved me inside.

I turned and locked the door behind me then attacked. Our mouths came together in an intense meeting of lips and tongues and teeth. I felt her whimper into my mouth and I pulled away.

" I need you to be a good fucking girl for me, I need you to be real quiet my Sweet Babygirl." I whispered in her ear.

" I'll be your good girl, your bad girl, whatever girl you want me to be Daddy , I just need you to fuck me."

I practically growled into her neck , lightly biting at her before I unbuckled my pants and pulled them down. My cock was aching to be inside her.

" Jesus Eddie!" She whispered as she stepped out of her panties, I knew without even looking at them that they were moist.

I didn't waste another second, I picked her up ,hiked up her skirt and backed her into the wall , her legs automatically wrapping around me . I drove my cock into her. She was so fucking wet. She gasped, and I clenched my teeth together to keep from fucking shouting. I pounded into her and she buried her head in my neck and mumbled." Fuck me Daddy, please, feels so fucking good."

That only made me fuck her harder, she pulled my hair, I kissed her and groaned into her mouth. She whimpered and whined and clawed into my back as I fucked her into that wall.

" You feel so fucking good baby girl, so fucking good." I pressed my forehead against hers and murmured.

" I'm so close baby-" she whispered against my lips.

I snapped my hips up, again and again,panting ,but it was enough to send us both spiraling over the edge.

I watched her face as she came, her mouth dropping open in a silent scream of ecstasy, her brows furrowed her lips puffy from biting them to stay quiet. She was fucking exquisite.

My body shook with my own release and I leaned against her trying to catch my breath.

She peppered me with kisses and I felt her lightly running her fingers up and down my back. " That was incredible baby, wow. " She smirked. " If I had known you liked to be called Daddy I would have done it sooner."

" I didn't even fucking know, it's like I just fucking snapped. " I held her face in my hands and kissed her then carefully backed away lowering her to the floor. I held her a moment,her legs shaking."You good Sweetheart? I'm sorry I was rough-"

She smiled. "Your sorry that you gave me a mind blowing orgasm that made my legs wobbly?" She kissed the tip of my nose,"My sweet , darling man, you have no reason to be sorry. "

There was a knock at the door, I looked at my Sweetheart, panicking.

" Occupied! Be right out!!!" She hollered.We quickly tidied ourselves up and made ourselves presentable as quickly as we could . I ran a hand along my Angel's hair and gave her one more kiss.

"I love you baby." She whispered, than opened the door. I heard her laugh.

" I , uh, got your drinks." Steve smirked holding up two glasses and shook his head. " I wanted to make sure everything was alright, you guys kinda rushed off after talking to that dipshit... I was worried when you didn't come right back...I'm realizing now everything is just fine."

I stepped beside my Wife, pulled her close and smiled."Yeah, we're fucking amazing."

Steve smiled." Yeah."

We walked down the hallway and back to the table the girls were lucky enough to have claimed.

" Yay, they are back!!" Lisa cheered, Nancy and Robin clapped.

" Time for a toast," Steve raised his glass."Tonight we toast a woman that, within this past year has become a friend, become family, and has stolen our best friends heart and become Mrs. Munson. Let's raise a glass to  this lovely lady, hope you are able to start off this next year of your life with a bang!" He winked ,she laughed and I just about died.

As always thank you for reading, comments and re-blogs are the best❤️

Eddie watching his girl shaking her ass:

Tag list Lovlies : @tlclick73 @fairymunson @micheledawn1975 @elegantkoalapaper @goth-cowgirl-03 @bmunson86 @retrorage86 @hideoutside @veemoon @emmyshortcake @erinekc @babyloutattoo89 @amberolivia666 @eddiesxangel @liminalpebble @eddiesacousticguitar @munsons-mayhem28 @munsonsmullet @skyline4446 @maskofmirrors @blainetiberiuswinchester @bexreadstoomuch @xxhellfirebunnyxx @candice-1983

Dance club mix:

And some other fun songs to picture Steve dancing to😂:

[hum-suffer]

Ours

Ishan doesn't remember the last time he was this upset. He's striding across the hallway to the hotel room he's been alloted. To share.

It's late at night, well past the hours of deep midnight. There's no one in the dimly lit corridor— the older teammates had already retired to their rooms while the youngsters stayed for the afterparty.

"You could have bloody well told me she'd be there!" He snaps at Shubhman. His best friend, the friend that Ishan has been head over heels for over five years, sighs and looks down. Shubhman, who shares the room with Ishan. "No. You don't get to be a fucking puppy."

"Ishan, dude, I didn't know! I just posted a snap of the place, how was I supposed to know she'd be there? Kammo said she declined the invitation, I trusted him!"

Shubhman moves to remove his suit jacket as Ishan pushes the door open. Ishan uses his movements as a distraction, lest he stare at the way Shubhman's light blue silk shirt clings to him. It's one he's shared with Shubhman for so long that now either of them remembers who it originally belonged to.

(Lies.

Ishan remembers buying it for Shubhman and then joking around about how he has right on it.

He remembers when Shubhman invited him to Shahneel Didi's birthday and gave him the shirt with a smile and an order to wear it.

He had a cold shower before changing.)

He brings himself back to reality when Shubhman locks the room almost absentmindedly and removes his shoes, all the while focusing on Ishan as if Ishan is the centre of his universe.

His cheeks are red and Ishan doesn't know if it's anger or embarrassment. "I swear, Ishan, why do you even care? I don't give a fuck whether she shows face or not!"

Ishan cares because she had been flirting with Shubhman for all evening and that motherfucking idiot Shubhman did not even realise what she was doing. Ishan cares because sees her arm wrapped around his bicep somehow burned Ishan's skin. Ishan cares because she held tightly to Shubhman even when he tried to move away. Ishan cares about his personal space and she fucking doesn't. Ishan just cares.

In a clearly failed attempt to calm down himself, Ishan removes the watch and bracelets on his wrists— all but the one Shubhman made for him. While he's at it, he also removes the leather jacket he was wearing, making sure to not let the bracelet catch in the soft lining of the jacket.

"Ishan? Bloody say something!"

Ishan glares at him. "You want me to say something?" He throws down the jacket on the floor, uncaring for it. He takes a step towards Shubhman. "She's using you for clout. She's using you for fame. And you know it. You know it and you go along with it any-fucking-way as if you have no self respect! You go and sit with her and then I'm left alone for the rest of the night! I'm sorry if my anger inconveniences you!"

By the time he stops, he's breathing hard and his eyes and throat are burning. I love you, he wants to say. I love, love, love you.

Shubhman softens. "You should have told me."

Ishan laughs in his face, a bitter sound. "Told you? Boy, you'd not even be aware I was beside you!"

Shubhman tenses. "Impossible. I'm always aware of you, Ishan. I'm—"

"Aware?" Ishan snaps, on a roll now. "You didn't even look at me the whole goddamn time!"

And before he can continue his tirade, Shubhman narrows his eyes. "Move back, Ishan."

"Oh, so now you've a problem with me sharing your personal space? You can't disagree with her but you tell me to move fucking back?" Ishan doesn't move back. He's stubborn as a mule, especially when he's mad.

Shubhman's jaw flexes. "Move back before I lose the little control I have, Ishan." Ishan doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. "Before I lose my control and kiss you, right now, shamelessly, without any regret, move fucking back, Ishan."

Ishan freezes all over. Shubhman seems to have realised what he said and his eyes widen and he looks panicked for a moment before taking a fortifying breath. He looks at Ishan like he could devour him.

Ishan would let him.

He moves a step closer, close enough that he can feel Shubhman's breath on his skin. Close enough that if he swayed, he'd faceplant in Shubhman's chest.

"Then lose your control before I do, Shubh."

Shubhman's eyes widen for a moment and Ishan thinks, this is it, he must have been—

He doesn't have the time to complete the thought. Shubhman is kissing him and all coherent thoughts are evaporated in his head. Oh god. Oh fucking god. Shubhman is kissing him. His hands are wrapping around Ishan and pulling him in.

It takes a moment before Ishan realises that he's kissing Shubhman.

Oh fuck. He's kissing Shubhman. He's kissing the boy he loves. He's kissing his best friend.

The thought makes him pause and pull away. They're both breathing hard and Shubhman's eyes are dark as he looks at Ishan with unashamed want. Ishan wants to kneel with the weight of want he feels from Shubhman.

"Ish." Shubhman breathes and rests his forehead against Ishan's. Ishan closes his eyes and lets him feel the weight of Shubhman's head, relaxing. "Fuck, you're everything."

A blush must had crawled up his ears. Ishan looks down. "Shubh, we need to talk."

Shubhman hums but doesn't remove his hands from Ishan. "We need to talk." Ishan says again, but he can't hide his giddy smile.

"And I'm not stopping us. Let's talk."

Stubborn mule, Ishan thinks fondly. He sobers up quickly as he hesitantly speaks. "I love you, Shubh. I've loved you as a best friend for as long as I've known you and I've loved you as something completely different for years now. This...this may not mean to you what it does to me and I don't even ask anything of you. I just want you to tell me what you feel. I'm not ruining our friendship over a kiss. I need to know what you feeling. Or we can forget this ever happened and—"

He can't speak more. He can't. Of course, if Shubhman wants, Ishan will forever continue to pretend that he feels nothing but platonic love for him and he will pretend to forget to have ever felt Shubhman kiss him. He will pretend to forget the possessive hold Shubhman still has on him and he'll live. He'll be miserable but he'll live.

Shubhman nods. His hands are still resting on Ishan's hips. "I don't particularly think I love you in a romantic sense, yet." Ishan's world shatters and he breathes out as if someone punched the air out of his chest. "But, I still fancy you. You're not some experimental adventure. The thought of crying without your shoulder, the thought of waking up without you, the thought of having anything less than what we have right now makes me want to choke. You're not a passing fancy, Ish. And I might say that I'm not completely romantically in love with you right now, but I know that I'm half way over already. The thought of anyone but you in my arms makes me want to scream."

Ishan takes a shuddering breath. It's now or never. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Shubhman doesn't speak anything for a moment and Ishan looks up at him searchingly only to see him grinning like a loon. "Of course, I'll go on a date with you! I've been meaning to watch this new movie—"

"No! No hostile takeover on my date, I assure you!" The response is almost instinct by now. Ishan knows Shubhman and how well he uses his puppy eyes to take over the hangout activities and do what he wants.

"Your?" He raises an eyebrow and pulls Ishan towards himself with a jerk. He barely stops himself from crashing his nose on Shubhman's chest as Shubhman continues, very amused."You mean, our?"

It makes him incredibly giddy. He nods. "Our."

____________________________________________________

@ronika-writes-stuff hope you don't mind me tagging you and like this!

Part 2

[spectacular-supernova]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRESIDENT OF TONARI CLUB!

I, uh, m-made something f-for you.

Know that I'm totally embarrassing my ass over here, so... Don't laugh loud enough that I can hear you from over here!

Aaaaaand now, per Lyndis tradition, I'm gonna overexplain shits and turn a simple Ask into a whole ass Ramble!

-----------------------------(why is there no "Read More" partition in an Ask? I'm so embarrassed right now goddamn it)-------------------------

If you're short-sighted, try removing your glasses or contact lenses and look at this picture. I just did and it's suddenly even prettier!

I actually planned to draw your Sonicsona at first. And then I realized I deadass couldn't even draw Base Sonic. Then I thought I should draw a mole. I realized I also couldn't draw a mole. I thought I should just go for the easiest shit and draw ToFu. I realized I could not draw either one of them, too.

Because I cannot draw, I cheat! I mean I turn things into shapes (chiefly triangles, though not all of them) and then color them and hope that something shows up. This is me using this scientific /+ philosophical concept called Emergence.

No, I didn't just say THAT to sound like I have a technique of any kind, trust. It's so totally a technique—my very productive ass told me.

I remember you saying your favorite color is something like pink, blue, and stuff? It was from that tag game from last year. Hence, I decided I should create a context so I could draw an obscene amount of pink and blue.

If I'm being honest, it took me less than a millisecond to come up with the exact context—Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom is abundantly blue.

And since I always wanted to sneak ToFu in, I thought I would make a purplish-pink dusk. And then I will sneak those stargazing two in.

Come on. Everyone knows those ToFu panels. Even someone like me, who had not seen that part of the manga yet, knows.

Bless Tonari for being so relaxing to color.

HOWEVER! Fushi's limited-ass color presented a big problem for my cheat-drawing. How many combinations of "white" can you even make before you zoom out and see... nothing?! So I basically sabotaged them. That's what you get for being difficult, you mopey, neck-crick-possessing, fragile-enough-to-be-blown-by-the-wind cutie doofus.

I made up the color of their pants. I didn't even refer to their Nameless Boy drip when I decided on the color. I assed that part.

Yes. I admit I put a shit ton of effort into coloring Zelda. This version of Zelda is my kin, you know. Anyway, I like the way her, uh, shirt turned out.

I also like how the Master Sword turned out, but there was so much blue I ended up requiring outlines to distinguish it from Link's shirt and the sky. Told ya I have no technique or skill. I cheat through and through

I was too lazy to draw those sky islands. Besides, the ToTK side is already saturated with details.

What the fuck issa "proportion?" Everyone's head is an orange. The difference, Nova, is whether it's a Mandarin Orange or an Orange.

I don't know if I overdid Dinraal's draconic mane. It looks like she's wearing a wig. At least she is different from how she initially looked—a red tapeworm outfitted with chicken legs.

I admit I put more effort than any Past Me would have into Dinraal because a certain mutual is very, ah, particular about dragons.

Drawing two of your favorite ships for their show of devotion was a completely deliberative choice on my end. Did you also realize that both Link and Fushi had a short, small, low ponytail and that both Zelda and Tonari had similar hair? I believe it's due to me hitting my drawing skill limitation.

There is actually an Easter Egg of some sort in this picture. It's not the ugly doodle thing, no. That thing is me. I'm not an Easter Egg; I'm a ghost.

I'm not telling you what that Easter Egg is. I'm fine with it never being discovered; it'd be like those secret levels in old video games.

But if you DID discover it, come tell me what you think it is!

---------------

I hope you like it enough! Instead of it giving you a migraine, that is. Surely my """art"""... doesn't require a trigger warning... right?

Have a good one, mai bruzha!

---Lyn

A RAMBLE FROM YOU LYN IS THE BEST POSSIBLE BRITHDAY PRESENT I COULD HAVE EVER RECEIVED!!!! COUPLED WITH ART BY YOU????? AND OF MY FAVORITE FELLAS????? What did I deserve to be so blessed ;A; 💕💕💕

I’ll spare us all a little extra scrolling on my part by adding that read more you were fretting about, I have my own ramble upcoming!

I KNOW YOURE ON YOURSELF ABOUT NOT BEING ARTISTIC OR WHATEVER BUT THIS IS ART!!! AND DAMN GOOD ART TOO!!!!!!! This is!!!!!!!!!!! I want this made into stained glass I want to make this the permanent window to me bed roOM LYN THIS IS AMAZING THIS IS ALMOST CERTAINLY GOING DOWN AS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ART STYLES!!!! There’s no such thing as cheating in art, it’s all art!!! “Cheating” is a style, no technique is a style!!! I should know I have none either, hehe -w-‘ your art may be some type of cubism? Hehe idk I’m not an art student :3 Either way this is absolutely gorgeous I’m in LOVE!!!

It’s so creative and well done and I LOVE your eye for detail, the lighting is inspired!!!! Like the way the sun hits the space behind Zelda is so pretty, AND ZELDA IS SO PRETTY!!!!!! EVERYRHING IS SO PRETTY, I CANT FOCUS ON ONE THING BECAUSE I KEEP JUMPING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN ALL THE THINGS I LOVE ABOUT IT (every thing, every last detail!!! Is that a little you in the middle? Is that the Easter egg???? I could just pick you up and pat your little head!!! 😭 I know you don’t love hugs but that’s how I’ll be standing if you’re ever ready for one!!!)

I should slow down maybe and pick a few things to focus on BUT I JUST CANT I LOVE IT ALL!!!! The two scenes just blend so well into one another that my eyes are just naturally being drawn back and forth between both of the scenery! Dinraal, who turned out AMAZIING BY THE WAY, ABSOLUTELY NOT OVERDONE, if anything I’m so glad you had fun working on her!!! She’s so gorgeous!!!! I bet your friend is so so proud of how well she looks!!! Oh but anyway, Dinraal naturally leads my eyes over to the sun/moon (and the 24, hehe, thank you!!! /)//(\ Your memory is astounding!!), which have their own beautiful rays of light leading down onto the adorable couples 😭 I love love LOVE the moonlight leading down onto Tonari and Fushi, and the fact that she’s pointing at it too like she can almost reach it? Beautiful! Gorgeous!!! And it just leads my eyes down to them too, there’s just such a natural circular flow here, no wonder I keep getting caught in a loop of admiration! 😁

The blues and the pinks, and the stars on the ToFu side!!! I just noticed them and they’re everything to me!!!! Hahaha I’m so glad Tonari was relaxing to color hehe, same for me, something about her is just so lovely and calming when she’s relaxed 🥰 As for Fushi’s colors, I didn’t notice! Even after you pointed it out it looks good to me! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this is from someone who never references colors though, I’m so loosey goosey about everything -w- BUT YOUR SOLUTION TO YOUR PROBLEM WAS GREAT, THEIR SHAPE IS VERY VISIBLE AND EASY TO MAKE OUT hehe :3 I love their crossed little legs 🥰

Zelda being your kin is so good to know hehe, I’ve always been drawn to all versions of Link myself! I think we’ve been perfectly set up to “play dolls” with these characters in the future, so to speak! Aaaahh they can’t have been easy to draw, there’s a reason I almost never dabble in drawing those two and their intricate outfits, but you make it look effortless!!! Zelda’s shirt turned out amazing, and I’m stuck looking at her little triangle braids!!!! I don’t know why I’m so fixated on that it’s just adorable!!! 😭💕 What a lovely technique, man, I’m so enchanted! AND THE MASTER SWORD, I know you called it cheating BUT I LOVE THE LINE WORK, it makes the sword stand out, almost like you lined that specific part with some sort of melted gold??? Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!

This is gorgeous and beautiful in every which way and thank you!!!! For everything!!! For this beautiful drawing and for giving me a chance to ramble and giving me something gorgeous to look at for the rest of my day, and for indulging in both of my silly little ships /)//(\ I’m so glad I don’t need glasses because I love every inch of your art, thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!!! Gosh it’s so so so lovely 😭💕 you’re so lovely!!!!

I don’t know how to say goodbye so I guess I’ll just say good night for now! Thank you for thinking of me… I’ll have a wonderful day, so long as you promise me you’ll have a wonderful night along side me 🥰

Goodnight, Mai Bruzha!

- Nova

[lupeloto]

mickey birthday ficlet🥳

i wrote a little drabble about mickey’s birthday morning in the gallagher-milkovich household. it’s quick and maybe slightly ooc bc fuck it we hall but yes here you go!

The Sun is peaking through the light gray curtains draped across their bedroom window. Ian stands in the doorway, mesmerized by the way it shines against his husband's pale skin, the brightness making his long eyelashes flutter slightly. He had planned to let Mickey sleep in on his special day, but it had been a couple hours and Ian had already made breakfast, so he decides to wake him up in an extra special way.

However, he finds himself paralyzed in that position, admiring the beauty of the curves in his toned arms, the stubble scattered across his face, the light dusting of freckles that Mickey never even really noticed he had before Ian started doting on them.

"Fuck you starin' at, Gallagher?," Mickey opens one eye slightly, not moving from his position on the bed.

A smile spreads across Ian's face, "Oh nothing, just a very special person on his very special day..." Ian know he sounds corny, but he doesn't care, besides, he knows Mickey loves it.

"Huh?" Mickey question, rubbing his eyes and turning over on his back.

Ian makes his way over to the bed, placing his legs on each side of Mickey's waist, straddling him. He reaches his hand down every so slightly beneath the waistband oh his boxers, "Happy Birthday," he says with an endearing grin that Mickey can't help but respond to with an even wider one.

At that, Ian pops up, "Alright, come on, I made breakfast." He reaches his hand out for Mickey, a smug smile spread across his face.

"You fuckin' tease." Mickey scoffs, placing his hand in Ian's and letting his husband yank him up.

"So what do you wanna do today?" Ian asks, as if he doesn't already have a whole day planned, knowing Mickey would try to brush off the day as if it's just like any other one.

"Dunno, man, kinda forgot about it anyway," Mickey shrugs, hesitating before continuing, "Didn't really do that stuff growin' up. Most I got on my birthday was a comment from Terry about how glad he is that I'm another year closer to getting out of his way and some little homemade gift from Mandy most years."

Ian yanks him closer, one hand on his hips and another cupping the back of his head, scanning his face with slightly sad eyes. He attempted to maintain a neutral expression, but he isn't exactly known for "playing it cool."

"What?" Mickey spits, "Don't gimme that pity shit, man," he shakes his head, looking down and attempting to pull away. Ian, however, strengthens his grip and brings him back,

"I'm not pitying you, Mick. I'm just happy that I've got you now, that's all. You haven't lived till you've had Ian Gallagher's special birthday breakfast, that's all I'm sayin." He shrugs with a cute one-sided grin. Fuck, Mickey loves him so goddamn much.

With that, Ian turns Mickey around, covering his eyes with both hands, his large hands practically covering his entire face.

"Jesus christ, Ian, is this really necessary?" Mickey asks, but Ian can feel his grin against his hands.

"Shut up, yes it's extremely necessary."

"Better not open my eyes to a fuckin' baby and a crib or some shit."

Ian ignores him until they reach the kitchen, uncovering his eyes to reveal his whole birthday setup. There's a homemade streamer, clearly made by Franny, that reads "Happy Birthday Uncle Mickey" in sideways, messy lettering. There are a couple of paper-bag wrapped presents under the banner and a full breakfast set-up at the table with a stack of banana pancakes, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, a pot of fresh coffee, and one little blue balloon tied to the chair. Personally, all that sweet shit so early in the morning makes him a little nauseous, but he knows Mickey has always liked sweet shit, so he whipped something up.

Mickey fails to fight the smile that takes him over as Ian stands to the side, clearly proud of his ensemble. He knows Mickey isn't one for flare or big celebrations, but he had to do something,

"Franny made the banner," he smiles shyly, "Forgot that when I told her to make one for you, she would write "uncle" in front of it."

"Yeah I can see that," Mickey laughs, "It's fuckin perfect," he turns to Ian, his hand coming up to caress his cheek, "You know you really are the softest motherfucker I know?"

Ian closes his eyes playfully, "Mmhm, you love it," he kisses Mickey gently, "Happy Birthday, Mick." He studies the pattern of freckles on Mickey's face a moment longer, his eyes scanning up and down before pulling away and lightly shoving Mickey towards the table, "Okay gimme a full pancake review. Don't spare me," he says dramatically as Mickey rolls his eyes before taking a seat.

He takes his first bite, moaning dramatically.

“Okay I get that they’re good…but that’s scarily close to you orgasm face,” Ian jokes.

“What can I say, you bring it out in me, Gallagher…” he raises his eyebrows with a smirk before returning to his pancakes. Ian smiles to himself as they finish breakfast, admiring the look on Mickey’s face, admiring that he is the one who put it there. It’s fucking perfect.

[n0t-vzin1s]

bf!armin x fem!reader

guys i won't hesitate to admit that i'm head over fucking heels in love with armin and if you disagree, fucking fight me

also sorry to my gn or male readers!! these hcs would only make sense with a fem!reader due to how it was written (i am so tired i didn't even realize)

----------------------------

aot manga spoilers

god where do i start with this maaan

you more or less likely grew up with him, eren, and mikasa

so one day

when you know

THE FUCKING WALLS FELL

he was with you and eren that day

and istg the scared look on his face had you IN TEARS

fuck your parents, armin is all that matters

i would sell my left kidney for armin

anyways

during training, you were almost certain that armin was gay

like absolutely in love with eren LOL

so you brought it up

"yo homie are you gay?"

and he looked at you with the most PUZZLED expression like 😨

but he was like "nah fam"

and he whipped out the "i.." awkward ass gulp "like someone else"

and you already knew it was either you or mikasa but mikasa seen him as brother

and let's b honest

who wouldn't have a crush on armin!!

yeah you were one of em

time skip to god fucking knows where

bro grows some balls and kisses your goddamn ass

regardless

halfway thru, it was ruined due to eren and mikasa walking in like "woah. who is THIS BABE??"

until they realized it was you and that they were screwed lmAo

armin is extremely soft

like not even in like his skin is soft

he's just

baby

yk?

he's so gentle and scared to hurt you

and he's constantly checking up on you and making sure you're okay

often brings you things to show you

he LOVES reading books with you about the outside world

esp b4 he seen the ocean!!

i could see him and you taking horse rides into the large forest against levi's wishes

he feels rebellious when he's with you

random hc buuuut i feel like he would LOVE to dance in the rain

or lay in the grass and watch the stars all the way to the sun rise with you

he knows every single constellation

no doubt abt that

for your birthday, he gets you books!! it's more of a gift to himself, really, but you don't mind cause it's cute!!

for HIS birthday?

you get him books.

for valentine's day?

books.

it's always fuckin books

but it's armins hobby and you love him for it

armin is extremely awkward and constantly needs praise

he has a fear of yoh leaving him for some one who he considers "better"

and you have to remind him

"armin honey there is no one better than you"

he constantly has to be near near you on the field cause he's scared of losing you

but you have to remind him that you can handle yourself

honestly

he finds it hot when you take down a titan

cause like

your muscles are flexing against the tight suit and he just likes the way it looks

he will stand up for you with his life

cleans your injuries for you since he's a goddamn doctor

what kind you may ask?

abortion

he often writes stories abt you

they don't explicitly say your name, but you often realize that they describe you

he actually wanted to be a writer at some point in his life before everything went down

during the time you visited marley, the two of you got some quality time in like eren and mikasa had

but the two of you often sought out the other for comfort when eren started changing

cause like

you grew up with that boy

and to see him change his life so drastically kinda hurt the both of you

regardless

his dreams kinda went down the drain like eren life did

he was so happy that he got to see the ocean with you of all people though

when sasha died, he cried in your arms

as well, when he hange died and he technically became the next commander

he needed a lot of comfort

cause he wasn't sure he was going to do good

but armin struggles to talk abt his feelings!! so to have him open up to you and let himself feel vulnerable infront of you is a huge step for himself

he often doubts his self-worth!! like way too often to be considered normal

anyways

when the rumbling started, his priorities were both you, and mikasa

and he did his best to keep you safe

but hot goth mommy mikasa honestly did better

don't tell him that tho

he never talked about the future

like what would happen after all the titans went away

omg how could i forget

when he became a titan, he started closing himself off for weeks at a time cause he didn't like killing innocent people

but when he opened up you felt bad for him

cause he was so exhausted

like he hadn't slept for weeks at a time

armins trauma is so overlooked

anyways back to the future

he honestly wanted to travel the world and write about what he'd seen over the years

he also wouldn't allow himself to get into a relationship with you until the whole thing was over

cause even tho it would hurt, atleast you or him would've died knowing that there wasn't a future for either of you

buuut it still hurts lol

anyways when he killed eren, he literally sobbed for weeks

regardless if he was seen as a hero in others eyes, he didn't see himself as one

but during the aftermath, when he gets to finally settle down with you, he feels ecstatic

mikasa, you and him (as well as the other living cadets) often visit erens grave and leave things there

armin usually leaves little notes telling him about his life and how things are doing

and they always end in the same way

"how are you doing up there?"

and he usually gets a sign back from the universe somehow, sometimes it'll be a bird landing on him, and other times it could be leaves swirling around him

regardless, it leaves him happy and you in tears every damn time

whenever there's a thunderstorm, armin always says (without failure)

"oo, someone pissed eren off again" while laughing

and you can never understand how he's not sad by his death

he is

god i wrote this with the intention of it being happy but i'm fucking sobbing i hate this

----------------------------

[blindluck]

i didn't wanna reply over there cus this ended up getting rly long but there's this post by @shitpostingperidot and @marvelsassbutts about carol and maria's GNR concert in 88 and my brainworms got to making up hc after hc now all i think about is how that could've been the first time they got together despite mutually pining and coparenting monica for like 4/5 years or so anywayyy

idk if there's like a screenshot frame of monica's sword file or smth that shows her birthday in exact terms so i might be going on abt nothing here but listen

mcu wiki says she was born around june/october of 1983

it also says carol and maria met in their first year of AF academy "shortly after turning 18", so that's either late 1983 or early 1984, bc carol's birthday is late 65

which means monica was already in the picture by then 🥺🥺

what i'm thinking is maria got pregnant at around 17/18 and her parents took care of monica for the first year or so when she enlisted bc why wouldn't they

but as soon as she lands the test pilot job and starts making bank they're like "i love you so much and i'm very proud of you now here's your child go be her mom"

this is like in their 2nd or 3rd year of flight school so it catches everyone by surprise, and ofc higher ups use it as excuse to subtly and passive-aggressively ground maria on paid vacations and maternity leaves

obviously she sees right through the fake benevolent facade and overcompensates by not only refusing benefits, but taking on even bigger workloads

which then obviously gets her drained and exhausted and ofc carol notices and worries

she's been trying to give maria space through the whole ordeal but there's a line between giving you space and watching you get put through the wringer without doing anything

so she finally corners maria like "hey i know this is fucked up but maybe you could find another way to stick it to them without slowly killing yourself in the process can u pls just give me a call when it's too much to handle i am begging on my knees"

("my best friend, who supported me as a mother and a pilot when no one else did")

maria does slow down a bit but she still hesitates to call for help, until one particular hard night she cracks and carol gets there at flying speed to do chores and dinner and take care of monica while maria (a single mom in her early 20s who is also an overworked test pilot) finally gets some goddamn rest

(after changing monica's diaper tho bc apparently carol can't help with that)

from then on carol pretty much moves in with them

maria starts slowing down and taking care of herself and getting her due leaves and relying more on her parents and friends and she loves monica so much and things are so overwhelmingly good right now...............except for this one small carol shaped situation

they've been roommates before, you see, and maria is very aware she's been in love with this goobster for a minute

but she's also a black single mom in the US air force she really doesn't have to make things harder on herself so she's been trying rly damn hard to keep carol at arm's length for both their sakes

carol too is very aware that she's in love with maria and probably has been since forever (she's not super in touch with her feelings to pinpoint when the gears shifted, plus thinking back on it she can't rmbr a time when she wasn't in love with her yknow)

but "maria has a kid she's straight" (wrong) and also carol is very insecure (canon) so she's afraid of rejection and doesn't wanna ruin the friendship and she'd rather have maria in her life as a friend instead of not at all

even if it breaks her to wake up literally next to the love of her life every single day and not spill her entire heart out

especially bc maria's mask slips sometimes, mostly when she's drunk (even if just a bit tipsy) or when they share a particularly emotional moment (quite often tbf, considering how close to dying the very nature of their job gets them on a regular basis)

fast forward to 1988

carol and maria pretty much live together and monica loves auntie carol to pieces and their hearts are both so close to exploding they might actually die for real at any given moment

now to finally tie back to where this whole thing started: carol brings home tickets to a GNR concert, maria stares at her dead in the eye like "bitch this is 500 miles away" and carol's like "oh..........................road trip? :D"

you'll never guess what happens there

one year later, carol's missing

presumed dead

[tafferling]

The state of this Taff

It's a struggle, ya'all.

Just before my birthday at the end of November, I learned that my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. Not a big surprise, that, considering I grew up in a household where the kitchen had a literal smoke cloud hanging in it 24/7, but. Still. Supposedly, she says, it's one of those that'll get knocked over by chemo looking at it funny, but there's another problem that's a lot more dire and immediately life-threatening: the cancer metastasized in her brain.

I spent the next few weeks scrambling to buy a car and get my dog vaccinated for rabies. See, I live in Sweden, and she lives in Austria. And I've got no one to look after my dog, meaning he's got to come with me. Therefore, car. Fast forward to the 22nd of December, and I finally start driving down.

Of course, I am going to see my mom! Yeah, she still tells me I gotta go get me a man cause I'm 40 and need to get me that husband to set me right and I am not ace, just broken and need to see myself fixed so a man'll have me yadda yadda (and the racism, let's not forget about the racism and the casual homophobia), but she's my mom, ya know?

She's had her brain surgery at that point already and was recently discharged. Everyone tells me she's doing great. She tells me she's doing great. It's just sweet that I'm coming down and so on and so forth.

Neat, right?

I even call her 10 minutes before I arrive, while taking a quick break to walk the dog near my aunt's and dad's grave. Ask her if she's got dinner for me, cause I haven't had any proper food for two days or if I should grab something on the way. She says she's got it all. Sweet.

ahahaha... WELL, I arrive there, and I find out that, no. She's not doing alright. Turns out everyone failed to mention to me that she has what basically amounts to short-term memory dementia, or whatever you like to call it. I arrive, and I find out that not only is the house barely liveable, but she's got no food (it's the 23rd, 5pm, and shops close at 6pm until the 27th), and she has no idea where anything is in the house or what she's done five minutes ago.

I dump all my shit (plus the dog) in the house and dive into the "last hour before shops close" fun (JFC, where did all those people come from) so we have stuff to eat. When I get home, it all settles in: Not only do I have a full-time job that I'll have to do while I am here (naturally), but (for the foreseeable future) I am also my mom's full-time caretaker from here on out.

She's forgotten her phone PIN since then (getting a new SIM card sent here next week). She was taking her meds wrong and missed two crucial ones. She has a radiology appointment next Tuesday and kept telling me she is being picked up by an ambulance, only for me to call her oncologist and find out that's not true, I've got to drive her (which isn't an issue, but if I hadn't called the guy to figure out her med sdsafkjasdfsa). So on. And so forth, with other highlights including her not knowing how to pay her bills, me getting screamed at cause of that, then her friend screaming at me, her fucking neighbour bringing her cigarettes and smoking in the kitchen with her (THE WOMAN HAS LUNG CANCER) and ---- :sounds of distant Taff wailing at the void:

I also got screamed at by total strangers three goddamn times already, and it's really bringing home why I left this country. Not saying everyone's an ass, but when you got grown men shouting at you for trivial shit like "waiting with your shopping cart to let a car out", "taking longer to put away your groceries cause you're fucking exhausted and can barely see straight anymore", and "going the wrong way in a shopping parking lot (NOT during rush hour, mind you, that was later on in the morning when the place was nearly empty) cause you missed the arrow and haven't been here in nearly 15 years" you just kinda-- *deflates*. Please. Stop shouting at me.

I wanna kick some rocks and mope.

Anyway. Yeah. It's rough, ya'all. And I don't usually like doing this, but this time, maybe I should: If you've ever liked any of my writing and you haven't, like, I dunno dropped a kudos or something, I'd appreciate any sort of encouragement or positivity in my life right now. Any little pick-me-up will do. 'cause I need to admit I am out of my depth, I am overwhelmed, and I have no idea what to do.

[chaifootsteps]

i'm sure others have already commented on the way the flashback was handled in the leaked ep but GOD it's been taking up so much space in my mind. it really shows just how important it is to plan ahead to have reveals like that feel satisfying.

like blitzo killed HIS OWN FUCKING MOM accidentally, and we're supposed to get this from what, a 5 second clip? seriously????

if this show was actually planned out and well-written i feel like it'd have more foreshadowing and hints at what happened. just things to get you wondering. like idk. in the first ep iirc blitzo is tied up and the humans try to burn him and he doesnt react to the fire in a weird way at all??? HE KILLED HIS OWN MOTHER BY ACCIDENTALLY CAUSING A HUGE FIRE!!! idc how much blitzo bottles things up. some sort of reaction wouldve made so much more sense - like, if moxxie or millie or whoever was tied up with him i cant be bothered to go check - said that human fire doesnt hurt them instead of blitzo, and then he acts kind of off, it could be like a "oh i wonder why he's acting like that even though it doesnt hurt him" and then its the reveal and its like "ohhh omg thats why." something of that nature. just SOMETHING to buildup to the reveal. and god i wish it was longer.

i wish there was more time to see both fizzarolli's and blitzo's perspectives on the accident. i mean it starts with fizz waking up, there could be like, a dream sequence that portrays blitzo all evil, showing that it still haunts fizz and makes you wonder what really happened- but then the jump from that to him waking up would be complete tonal whiplash so i dont think that would really work with the episode as is- honestly the whole thing just needs to be rewritten. this whole show is a mess actually. it's taking up so much of my brain. i'm sorry.

god and the whole thing is so STUPID too. fucking, there are people... at your birthday party....? wtf... *accidentally bumps into the imp carrying the cake* oh the cake has fallen and i have accidentally killed my mother and caused irreversible damage to my friend !

but but but WHY is blitzo like that. its fizz's goddamn birthday party no shit he's the center of attention. yk what im not even going to rant abt that. its all just shitty writing.

despite all that i'm still excited for the episode tomorrow, helluva has great animation and fizzarolli is the only character i care about so i'm really looking forward to see him fully animated just on screen. the song had its bad parts (fucking secret to bitcoin part) but i love how over-dramatic fizz is, he loves performing so much it's cute

it was bad, it was just so incredibly bad, and the only redeeming thing about it was that it's Fizzarolli. I'm looking forward to see him and Ozzie in full animation (lack of composition aside) and that's about it.