#sometimes people come in and send anonymous asks

[classpectingshitposts]

i have Trauma and i'm very lonely and my previous way to deal w/ it was to seek attention (even though I wasn't even good at doing that n just came off as weirdly aggro) bc I wanted rly badly to be seen n feel worth smth but perhaps unhealthily I have found that I actually feel better when I stop trying and just find ways to be happy on my own. I thought I was a heart player bc I think abt identity a lot but I hate that aspect sm so I'm choosing to be void. classpect me

[fairestofall]

Are non rp blogs allowed to follow or reblog anything? Your blog is gorgeous and Snow White has so few people who truly love her like this. But I wanted to ask because when I followed and reblogged posts from a Princess Aurora roleplayer they immediately blocked me ☹️

Hello there! All are welcome to follow and/or reblog as much as they'd like! I know some blogs feel that personals restrict their ability to tap into their character's world, but it's much the opposite for me. I feel more connected to Snow White through this account the more engagement I get and even people referring to me as the character. The only exception is, I really don't like being copied- there's been at least four other accounts who have blatantly committed creative larceny and stole my writing, theme, etc- and that is very dispiriting to me. It takes a lot of work to run this account and ensure everything is in her voice and I'm honoring the universe as much as possible. However, as long as you aren't disrespecting or ripping off my work, I'd love to speak with you and give you full rein over whatever you wish to do in the land of my account!

[lyjen]

Lifeline

Summary: Everything in (Y/n)’s life seems to be great, until her abusive ex-boyfriend turns up at her home and threatens to hurt Evan. To protect her closest friend, she starts to distance herself from him. Evan notices (y/n) is distancing herself from him, and confronts her. But when the bomb of her ex-boyfriend bursts, she crawls back to Evan.

A request by: Anonymous - the request

9-1-1 Masterlist

______

“Let me do this cap! I can get to her.” (Y/n) spoke up as they started making a plan to rescue one last victim out of her apartment. A woman was stuck inside of her apartment. The building was being evacuated because the building was too fragile and unsafe.

“Hell no.” Evan shook his head wildly as he heard his best friend’s voice. His head shot at her, looking her in the eyes as if she was a crazy person. But it was literally her job to rescue people, if she wouldn’t do it, Evan would do it himself.

But (Y/n) wouldn’t let Evan have all the fun tasks. “(y/n), you’re not going in there on your own.” Evan spoke before Bobby could even think of an answer. She just stared at Evan who was telling her not to go in, but it wasn’t his call. He wasn’t the captain.

It was Bobby’s call to make. So she looked at her captain. “Buck, go with (y/n). She’s gonna need you on the pulley. (Y/n) You’re going to do that rope rescue. Let’s go!”

As soon as Evan and (y/n) reached the roof of the adjacent building, they had to make a jump across to the apartment building which was on fire. They stopped on the edge of the building. A sigh left (y/n)’s mouth, while Evan just grinned. He knew she was stubborn and sometimes didn’t think things through, and this was one of those moments.

Their eyes connect for a small second, making (y/n)’s stomach turn. They toss their equipment to the other side and Evan makes a running start and jumps to the other building with (y/n) on his heels.

His gloved hand touches her shoulder, which sends a shiver down her spine and fills her stomach with some kind of electricity. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Evan asked her one more time. “Well it’s too late to back out now, right?” She said as she secured herself to the rope and clicked the helmet strap into its place. “Let’s do this” she said as she started bracing herself to go down on the side of the building.

Evan secured himself to one of the metal railings on the roof of the building, as he let the rope slide through his hands.

He didn’t like this at all. The thought of his best friend dangling on the side of a building, which was currently being evacuated and was ready to collapse within minutes. Anxiety streamed through Evan’s veins.

(Y/n) rippled down the side of the building as she reached the right apartment window of the woman. She was in the window, waving for help, letting her know what apartment she was in. “Get down and get back!” (y/n) spoke as hard as she could, making gestures with her hand to let the woman know to stand back.

(Y/n) clapped the plastic cover of her helmet in front of her eyes and pushed her body with her legs as hard as she could, so she could gain enough momentum to bash through the window of the woman.

Her body breaks the glass of the apartment building and she falls down with her back on the ground, in the middle of the living room of the woman's apartment.

“Los Angeles Fire Department” she groaned as she got back up from the ground, standing on her two feet again. (Y/n) looks around for the woman, when she spots her, the victim gets off the ground and lets (y/n) secure her in the harness.

(Y/n) backed up towards the window with the woman secured to her harness. “Okay Buck, I got her! Coming back out now!” she talked into her radio. “Copy that, fire’s getting a little close up here. We need to double time this!” (Y/n) stepped out the window frame and let her weight get caught by the rope Evan was still assisting on the roof of the building.

A loud bang sounds through the air, “This roof is gonna go any second!” Evan spoke through his radio. “(Y/n) you have got to lower yourself down the rest of the way. Buck, secure that rope and get the hell off of that building!” Bobby ordered.

Evan secured the rope to the building, “Line’s all yours (Y/n)!”

“Alright! I got it! See you down there!” (Y/n) radioed back as she took over the rope into her hand, so she could ripple herself down to safety.

She tried to go as fast as she could, but when another bang roared through the streets of LA, glass started raining down onto (y/n) and the victim. The victim was hanging with her head into the crook of (y/n)’s neck, not wanting to see the height she was on right now.

For not even a second she stopped, as she could hear the sound of fire burning through material. She looks up at the rope, and sees the flame burning through the rope material, as smooth as butter. Anxiety roared through her veins when she looked down, the airbag was still being filled with air. She knew filling the airbag would take seconds, but at this moment… she didn’t know if she had that much time. The line was gonna split in two, any second. She took one more look at the rope above her, and closed her eyes making one more last prayer.

The rope abruptly split in two, her body was taken by gravity. She fell down multiple levels, with the victim still secured to her harness. She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried to suppress a scream. Her stomach turned, as adrenaline streamed through her blood.

Her back made contact with the airbag, as she felt the victim's body landed with half of her body onto the firefighter. When (y/n) opened her eyes, she was facing the dark night sky. (Y/n) unclipped the harness from the woman, so her team could help her. “Watch your head” Bobby spoke as he helped the woman up to her feet. (Y/n) shuffled on her butt towards the side of the airbag.

A pair of hands were being held out to her, waiting for her to accept them. She sighed as she was trying to calm down from the rush she was still feeling. (Y/n) looked up and her eyes connected with Evan, who was holding out his hands. “You always know how to make an entrance” he smiled.

“You have no idea” she whispered under her breath as she gladly accepted his hands, and was pulled onto her feet again. Evan reeled her into a hug and smiled “Still don’t like that you ignored my opinion about going up there.”

______

(Y/n) rushed into the locker room, she was late. For the first time in years, she was actually late for her shift.

She yanked open her locker and zipped her duffle bag open. She took off her shirt and let it slide into her bag. “I thought you weren’t the person to be late for shift” a voice spoke through the room. (Y/n) flinched at the voice, she thought she was the only one in here. She quickly took a glance over her shoulder as she saw a familiar shape.

“Wow, you okay?” Evan asked concerned, he could sense she was upset. (Y/n) grabbed the clothing hanger with her shirt on it. “Yeah, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” She could feel how Evan was moving closer. She hung the hanger back into her locker and unbuttoned the shirt.

Evan let his shoulder lean against the lockers, as his eyes remained on his colleague. His eyes scanned her body, until his eyes wandered along her arm. Bruises were spread all across her arm, with the worst ones visible on her upper arm.

“How did you get those?” he pointed at her arm. (Y/n) put her arms through the holes and pulled the long sleeve shirt over her shoulders so she could button up her shirt. She took a quick look at what Evan was pointing at. “Oh that.. that’s what you get if you fall ten levels down, and the victim squeezes your arm like it’s a stressbal” she brushed it off.

She wanted to get off the subject as fast as possible. The victim didn’t hold on to her arm like it was her lifeline, the victim had her arms slung around her neck. It was the reason she was late, which caused those bruises.

*

(Y/n) threw her duffle bag over her shoulder, grabbed her car keys from the dining table and opened her front door.

Her eyes met a pair of familiar ones when the door was flung open. The pair of eyes she never wanted to see again. It was her ex-boyfriend Joel, right in front of her. She flinched at the sudden shape on her doorstep.

She wasn’t expecting someone to be on her doorstep, and it sure wasn’t like she was expecting him.

“Hey” his low voice sounded through her eardrums. “What are you doing here?” (y/n) immediately shot back at him. She didn’t want him here, or anywhere near her at all. He was an entire red flag walking. But yet, she had fallen for him. Months ago.

“Can’t I just-” before Joel could finish his sentence, she cut him off. “I don’t have time for this. I’m late for work. I have to go-“ she wanted to push past him. But his hand landed firmly on her upper arm.

She was going to be late for shift if she continued talking to him. And she was never late, and whatever Joel had to say wasn’t probably that important. He was always talking shit, and manipulating people.

Joel’s fingertips buried themselves into her skin, a soft yelp fell off her lips when she felt his touch. His grip was getting stronger, and stronger. “You’re hurting me, let go.”

“Good. Maybe it will feel a little like the pain I had, months ago when I woke up one morning and you were gone.” He hissed into her ear. She could feel his warm breath spreading around her ear. She tried to pull herself out of his grip, but he would pull her back stronger.

Months ago, she left her toxic relationship with Joel. She ran from him, and started her new life here in Los Angeles.

“I saw you on the news the other day. That was quite a call, wasn’t it?” he smirked, as he reached with one hand into his pocket to fish out his phone.

“You were pretty close to one of your firefighter friends..” Joel shows her a clip of the news. They had recorded and broadcasted the fragment of Evan helping (y/n) up and hugging her.

“Is this your new boyfriend?” He asks as he tries to look into her eyes to make contact, and slips his phone back into his pocket.

Evan was just a co-worker, and a good friend. Yes, they get along well together. Maybe even too well. And she loved hanging around with him. But they weren’t in a relationship.

“That’s none of your business” she shot back as she tried once again to pull out of his grip, and that was the last straw. He pushed her back into the doorframe with one hand still on her arm, and his other arm now resting firmly against her throat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

How did he find her? Why was he here again? She tried so hard to get rid of this man and yet here he was again in front of her nose.

“Listen carefully.” Joel started. “You are not going to tell anybody about me. Not even your neighbor or some stranger you met on the street.” he continued. “Otherwise, your firefighter boyfriend will soon be in between six wooden boards in the ground. You got that?”

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed as a tear rolled down her cheek, and nodded like her life depended on it.

*

It seemed logical to Evan, there was so much happening that night that he didn’t remember the full details to it. So yes, the victim could have squeezed her arm too hard. He wouldn’t remember if the victim actually had her arms around her neck, or if she was holding on to her like she was her lifeline.

“Hey, I was thinking.. you want to-“ Before Evan could finish his sentence, his words got cut short by (y/n)’s voice. "Buck. Please. Just leave me alone.” she sighed, she sounded on the edge of breaking.

She was scared for her life, for his life. Normally (Y/n) would tell Evan everything that happened in her life. But she had to actually keep this to herself. To prevent herself from blurting out anything to Evan, and to protect him, she would have to distance herself from him. Even though it hurt like hell.

Evan’s face turned into a confused look. They were always together. Evan loved being around (y/n) and she never told him off. Even if she had a bad day, he was the only one in the firehouse who was able to talk to her. As if he was some kind of special whisperer.

“Uhm, okay? I’ll see you in a bit then.” Evan spoke, still confused and struck by surprise. She would never tell Evan to go away. He always wanted her around and she always wanted him around.

______

Blood rushed to the spot where Joel had just hit her on the cheek. They were in the middle of a heated argument.

Tears were streaming down her face, she tried so hard to suppress the tears. (Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed, trying to make the guilty feeling she felt stop. Although she didn’t do anything wrong. He made her feel like she did.

(Y/n) wanted to walk away from the conversation, but then Joel grabbed her hand aggressively and pulled her back. Just when Joel had enough oxygen to yell at her again, the doorbell rings. “Go get that fucking door.” Joel hissed mad into her ear.

Saved by the bell, literally.

Now she had to pretend like nothing was going on, like she didn’t just receive a smack to the face or the bruises that he left on her arms.

(Y/n) nodded quietly at his order and started walking to the front door. As she made her way towards the door, she quickly tried to wipe the tears away from underneath her eyes with the back of her hand.

How was she actually going to pretend like she didn’t cry for the last ten minutes? They were red, puffy and probably made her look like some kind of panda bear because of the mascara that ran out. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down a little and to clear her airways.

She pushed down the lever of the front door, and opened the door so only her head could pop between the doorframe and the door. Whoever was at the door, didn’t have to see what happened in the room.

Her eyes met with those familiar blue eyes she longed to see for a while. “Hey..” Evan spoke as he held his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him as quietly as she could. Her hand landed on the side of the door, holding it into its place. “Well you forgot your -” Evan stopped talking as he realized those big, red, puffy eyes. “Wait, have you been crying?”

”Yeah, just.. a bad day.” she answered simply. His eyes scanned her, well whatever was visible of her. “What happened to your hand?” he pointed at her hand.

She looked at her hand and quickly put it behind the door, so he couldn’t ask anymore questions about it. “Oh, I just bumped my hand into the corner of a cabinet.” Evan furrowed one brow. “Since when do cabinets leave such bruises?”

She brushes it off, and tries to switch the subject. “You said you got something for me?”

She wanted to tell Evan so badly that her ex was back in town. That he had found her. But she couldn’t tell him. Joel would go after everyone she loved. And he knew she had a weakness for Evan.

“Oh yeah, you forgot this when you left.” Evan says as he reaches into his pocket and fishes out (y/n)’s phone, and holds it up as if it was some kind of prize she could win. After a second, he gives the phone back to her.

(y/n) quickly glances over her shoulder, and turns back to Evan. She was on edge, stressed. It was almost like there was someone who was holding a gun at her head. Evan could sense something in the air was different, maybe that something was actually wrong. “Are you okay?”

(Y/n) could feel Joel’s eyes burning into the back of her head, and coming closer. She has to cut off the conversation.

She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips into a thin line. “I really have to go.” and without even a “bye”, or a “thank you” she closed the door, just a second before Joel could yank open the door and talk to her co-worker.

(Y/n) didn’t like the way she was starting to push him away. But she had to. For their safety.

______

(Y/n) stepped onto the last step from the stair and entered the kitchen of the firehouse. She can feel people staring at her, their eyes were burning into her skin. But she ignored them.

She grabbed a mug from the upper cabinet and walked towards the coffee pot. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the armrest of the sofa, joining Eddie, Chimney and Evan.

“Are you cold?” Chimney asked as she took a sip from her coffee. She shrugged her shoulders, she really didn’t want to answer his question. But (y/n) knew they wouldn’t drop the subject. “It’s eighty five degrees outside, and you’re wearing a long sleeve?” Evan spoke as he looked up at her.

“Guys, I just forgot to wash my short sleeves, that’s all.” Honestly, they didn’t need to know. She couldn’t tell the real reason why she was wearing it. “Well you can just-“ but before Evan could end his sentence, she sighed and stood up from the armrest she was chilling on. Leaving her coffee on the table, and left the loft again. She didn’t want the opinions of her colleagues.

(Y/n) was overthinking every single thing which made her head pound. So she went to the locker room, to find some painkillers to make it go away. She opened her locker and started to dig through her locker, which was kind of a mess. Just like her life right now, but she could clean up her locker. She couldn’t exactly do that with her life.

Reaching her arm all the way to the back of the locker, it almost looked like she wanted to climb into that locker. “We need to talk” Evan’s voice sounded through the locker room. (Y/n) flinched, hitting her head to the side of the metal locker. “Fuck” She pulled her head and arm out of the locker. The one person she didn’t want to see or speak to, wanted to talk with her.

“Evan. I actually don’t-“ She never called him Evan, it was always Buck. “It wasn’t a question (y/n).” Evan’s voice sounded low, dark and desperate. She placed her hands on the side of the lockers and sighed. She didn’t even look at him.

“Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” Evan was looking at her side profile, with one hand resting on his belt. “Because if I did.. you know you can just talk to me, right?” Evan continued.

He wanted her to know that he’d always be there for her. She could tell him everything, even the worst things and he would listen.

“No..” she whispered under her breath, barely audible. She closed her eyes, as her face was still facing the inside of her locker. She saw this coming, she knew that one day he would confront her with the fact that she was avoiding her.

“I can’t.” she spoke, and let her hands slide off the side of the lockers. She shut her locker with a bang. (Y/n) had to walk away now. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to lose her friend.

(Y/n) turns away from him “No no no! You’re not walking away from me right now. This is what you have been doing for weeks!” Evan spoke up as he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back. “Evan. Please.” she pulled her wrist out of the grip from Evan.

It was almost like she was there in her house again, when Joel pulled her back. But she wasn’t. She was in a safe place right now.

“You’ve been acting so weird the last couple of weeks. And I’m sick and tired of you just walking away from me.” Evan’s voice sounded like a mix of worries and anger.

“Clearly you have been keeping secrets, and that’s alright! Of course you can have secrets, but I’m so tired of being pushed away by my friend.” His voice became louder by the sentence. “It's almost like I’m talking to a ghost. I don’t recognize you anymore!”

Evan tried to make eye contact with (Y/n), but she kept staring at her feet. It was almost like she felt guilty for existing.

“Well if you don’t recognize me anymore, maybe you never knew me at all.” She yelled back at him. As she shrugged her shoulders.

Those words took Evan by surprise. He never thought his friend would say that.

“Go away Evan.” She says with a calm tone, as she makes eye contact with her friend. Evan nodded. “It was nice to talk to you.” His voice is full of sarcasm. And he storms out of the locker room.

Thanks to Joel, she wouldn’t have any family or friends left in this firehouse.

______

(Y/n)’s breathing was breathing heavily. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding through her ears. Her cheeks were sticky from all the tears that had rolled all over her cheeks. Her back was pressed against the wall, while her knees were pressed against her chest.

Joel’s voice was still sounding through the room. But none of those words came through. Her vision became blurry by the tears which were welling up in her eyes. She could still see Joel pointing at her and screaming words. But then, he opened the front door and stormed outside, and he yanked the door shut behind him.

(Y/n) had gotten into a fight with Joel, again. He stormed into her house, blaming her that she had told someone about him and what he had done. Of course she told him that she had kept her mouth shut. But Joel didn’t believe her, and that’s when he hit her again, and again. Until where she was now, down on the ground. All alone.

She pushed herself onto her feet, while her hand pressed down on her abdomen, trying to ease the pain. A little yelp fell from her lips, as she felt a shocking pain through her leg.

(Y/n) stumbled over to her phone which was lying somewhere in the corner of the kitchen on the floor. She slowly grabbed her phone off the floor and tapped the screen, hoping for the best. Hoping that somehow, the phone would still work.

“Shit!” She cursed at herself when the phone didn’t react to her actions. She needed help. Right now. Otherwise she would lose herself completely. “Okay.” She tries to calm herself down.

The only thing she could think of right now was Evan. His apartment was not too far away from her. He basically lived two streets from (y/n) and he wasn’t on shift at the moment. That’ll have to do. But would Evan let her in? After all the times she told him to back off? She didn’t have a choice. All she could do was hope for the best and hope that Evan would listen to her story.

In a lot of pain, she grabs her keys and stumbles outside.

When she arrived at the apartment building, (Y/n) grabbed her keys and searched for Evan’s building key. Evan had given her a spare key, so if something would happen to him, she could just enter the building and his apartment.

She found the correct key, opened the door and stumbled towards the elevator.

When she reached the correct level, she stumbled towards Evan’s apartment. There were probably people who thought she may be a damn’ zombie.

She panted when she stood in front of Evan’s door. Her hand hovering over the doorbell. Overthinking her decision. Was this actually a good idea? What if she went through all of this pain, just to have Evan push a door into her face, just like she did with him?

Here goes nothing.

Her hand pressed the doorbell, she tried to keep her balance by leaning her hand against the doorframe.

Evan stood up from his couch as he heard the doorbell ringing through the house. What idiot was at his door at this time at night? It was a few minutes before midnight, Evan should be asleep right now. But his sleeping schedule was pretty much all over the place. He would work double shifts, then he would be working twelve hour shifts, but Evan did what he loved. And if that would mean that he’d live with a fucked up sleeping sheldue, he would be okay with that.

Evan yawned as he made his way towards the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door. His eyes met with (Y/n)’s, he quickly scanned her face. Her lip was bleeding and her short sleeved t-shirt couldn’t hide the bruises which were spread all across her arms.

“What the hell? (Y/n) what happened?” Evan’s face was flabbergasted, he knew there was something wrong. But he didn’t expect it to be this bad.

(Y/n)’s mouth opened to answer, but before she could even make a sound, her knees caved in and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her body was now in the hands of gravity, but before her body could meet the ground Evan caught her upper body.

With his arms underneath her armpits he dragged her body inside. He slowly let her slide onto the ground and shut his front door with a kick from his leg. He didn’t want any lookie-loos, that was the last thing he wanted.

Evan let his arm slide underneath her shoulders so he was holding her up. He let his right hand pat against her face, trying to get her back. “Hey! Hey! (Y/n)!” he spoke, it was kind of a loud whisper.

She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, “There we go” Evan said as he saw his friend open her eyes. As soon as she made contact with Evan, she started crying. “I'm sorry” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” she continued.

Evan shook his head, “Let’s sit you down.” he said as he helped her onto her feet. He slung her arm over his shoulder, so she could lean on him and he helped her towards the dining table.

With his free hand he pulled the chair from underneath the table and sat (Y/n) down on the chair. “Wait here” he said as he ran up the stairs towards his bathroom.

When he came down he had a first aid kit in his hands, and he pushed one of his chairs so it was now in front of (Y/n).

He grabbed an alcohol pad and started to clean her wounds. They were silent for a second. “So.. what happened?” he asked as his eyes remained focussed on her wounds. "I lied when I told you I was okay.” she whispered. “I figured as much, when you decided to collapse at my front door.” he said as he continued cleaning the wounds.

“My abusive ex is back. He found me..” she cried as she tried to wipe away her tears with the hand Evan wasn’t holding. Evan’s eyes wandered back at hers

Evan missed the signs with his sister. But how did this happen again but this time with his colleague, his friend, who was right there in front of his nose the entire time. He should’ve known.

“H-He threatened to hurt you if I told anyone that he was back. So.. ” she sobbed through her words. “So that’s why you distanced yourself from me.” Evan finished her sentence, (Y/n) nodded. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt, I needed to protect you.” she confessed.

Evan could sense the amount of stress and how scared she was. “Hey, I am okay, see? I’m right here.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his left chest. (Y/n) could feel Evan’s heart beat in the palm of her hands.

“I’ve got you, okay? He’s not going to hurt you anymore.” His hand was placed behind her ear as his thumb reassuringly rubbed up and down over her cheek, trying to give her some comfort.

“I never meant any of those things I said back in that locker room. You know me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I know myself. But I had to keep distance, to protect you from him. Because I care so much about you. Maybe even more than I should” she spoke. Evan has got a small smile spread across his face. He pressed his forehead against hers, as he continued rubbing his thumb over her cheek.

(Y/n)’s hand traced over his chest, onto the back of his head and tangled between his blonde curls.

Their noses were almost touching; there was barely an inch of space between them. She could feel Evan’s breath tickling her skin. “I’ve missed you.” he whispered and he pressed his lips against hers.

Right now.. Evan was her lifeline, and she needed to hold on to him as strongly as she could.

[werewolf-witchboy]

😇✨ Sugar Daddy Lucifer Morningstar X Gender Neutral Sugar Baby Reader ✨😇

SUMMARY: you're the king of Hell’s favorite influencer and he wants to make it very clear how much he appreciates you and loves your content, thus starting a transactional relationship between the two of you that slowly turns into something more.

WARNING: light stalker stuff going on for a little bit lol ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌ also some sugar baby catching feelings for sugar daddy nonsense

(also- i'm using the terms "sugar daddy" and "sugar baby" pretty loosely, and there are no sexual transactions in this story)

NOTE: I keep going back and forth between saying “livestream” and “video,” so just assume that in the story y/n mainly does livestreams and uploads them as videos later.

•You started out as a humble influencer in Hell.

•What you didn't know is that you happened to be the favorite influencer of THE king of Hell Lucifer himself.

•I personally headcanon that when this man finds something he likes, he REALLY obsesses over it.

•I can imagine him laying in bed with a cozy blanket and a snack, kicking his knees while watching your latest upload.

•Not gonna lie Luci got kinda stalker-ish in order to find you and know you in person.

•He is the king after all, so therefore he has ways to find and keep track of his people.

•It started as him sending you money anonymously as a way to give his appreciation to his favorite content creator.

•You'd sometimes get small donations here and there from different people, but you definitely noticed the big donations you'd consistently get. Even though they were all anonymous, you assumed they were all from the same person because it was usually always an absurd amount of money to donate to an influencer.

•While livestreaming one day you mentioned that you wanted to find out who this anonymous donor was and somehow do something special to thank them.

•Lucifer NEVER misses one of your livestreams and felt extra fanboyish thinking about his fav influencer doing something special specifically for him.

•He knew he couldn't just message you and say “I'm your anonymous donor” because he didn't have a public account. If he were to message with his anonymous account saying that he's the king of Hell you'd obviously think he was lying.

•HERE is where his stalker era starts. 💀

•Luci comes up with this convoluted plan that actually somehow ends up working exactly the way he wanted.

•He happens to “find” you at a place he knew is your favorite café just outside of Cannibal Town.

•He pretends to just be casually walking by (well, as “casual” as the king of Hell can be)

”Oh hey! I've seen a few of your videos, I like your content!”

•You're absolutely baffled that the man in front of you praising your content is Lucifer himself.

•Lucifer invites himself to sit down with you, and how could you possibly refuse.

(He knows using his status to get what he wants is a lil problematic, but he easily pushes any guilt aside cuz he gets to be in your presence. He honestly wonders why he hadn't done this sooner.)

•He uses this opportunity to ask you a bunch of questions he's always wanted to ask, as if this were his personal Q&A with you. You happily answer his questions and even ask your own, eager to get to know Lucifer.

•Eventually he asks the main question that'll set his plan into place.

“Have you ever done any collabs?”

Of course he already knows the answer is no.

•”I've never asked anyone to collaborate with me, I'm a little insecure and automatically think they'll say no.”

•”I'm shocked! I'd personally love to be in one of your videos!” He boasts.

•Even though you've been talking for a while now, your brain still hasn't been fully able to compute that you're not only talking to Lucifer Morningstar, he says he enjoys your content, AND he just said he'd like to be in one of your videos.

•”Wha- I'm sure you've got so much more important things to do!”

•”I've got spare time!”

•When he realized he was probably starting to sound desperate, he backed it up a bit;

“I'm not trying to invite myself into one of your videos, but what I am saying is that IF I were one of those people you were to ask then I'd definitely accept your offer!” He twiddled his fingers nervously under the table, his smile never faltering.

•”oH I mean I do want to ask you- I am asking you!” You become just as nervous as Lucifer, fumbling over your words a bit.

•Before you can say anything else he raises from his seat and extends his hand out in agreement. “Sounds good to me!” You quickly stand to take his hand and shake it.

•The two of you calm down a bit and start discussing times and dates, even though Lucifer knows he's just going to accept whatever day you suggest and cancel any plans that he might already have for that day.

•Lucifer's little plot went perfectly.

•The day came when Luci got to feature in a video with his fav influencer.

•The video blew up super quickly, you gained a whole new wave of fame.

•Not only was he in the video with you, but he also got to spend the whole day with you.

•Somewhere along the way he kind of forgot that he was with his fav influencer and started to feel more like he was just hanging with a friend…which, honestly, he hasn't really had a friend in a long time.

•Also- you had noticed that during the stream with Lucifer you didn't get any donations from your special anonymous donor who never missed any of your previous streams.

•THIS MOMENT is where Lucifer knows he could potentially ruin everything with you, but he wants to be honest.

•He tells you that he's the anonymous donor, and that he can prove it with receipts. He admits that he didn't just casually watch your content like he said previously, and that he's actually a super huge fan. He doesn't go into detail about the stalker-ish extent he went to find you though.

•You take a second to process everything.

•I think if it were any other man you'd probably be a bit weirded out. It's definitely mainly because he's the king of Hell, but also he's just so charming that it's kinda hard for you not to be flattered.

•Now the king of Hell is in your phone contacts and you've got a viral video of the two of you together that shows literally everyone that you know him, it all feels so surreal.

•You still get donations from him on your streams, they still say they're anonymous but you know it's him.

•Lucifer calls you ALL THE TIME, usually to talk about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time.

•Suddenly he started showing up at your door with random gifts. Usually things that you mention very briefly on social media.

•Like one day you posted a pic on your story of a cute pair of shoes that you'd like to have, and the next day he's on your doorstep with a shoebox in hand.

•This escalated to him taking you out to dinner quite frequently, and he'd always go out of his way to reserve a special private area or even book out the whole restaurant.

•Then he started inviting you to visit him. Movie nights at his place, or he wants to show you something new he made.

•Eventually it turned into you staying the night at his place sometimes. You'd fall asleep during movie night and he didn't wanna wake you, or your home is just so far away and he didn't wanna let you go home in the dark.

•THEN it became you staying at his place for multiple days in a row, and sometimes it felt like you practically lived with him.

•You’d always ask Lucifer what you could do to repay him for all of the stuff he does for you, and he just replies that your company is enough to satisfy him and when you aren't around he still gets to watch your new videos.

•After getting to know the king of Hell over the span of almost a full year, you've come to realize that he was a pretty lonely man before you met him.

•He almost never talks to his own wife, whom you aren't even sure is his wife anymore. He rarely talks to his daughter, and is terrified of not being a good enough dad to her. Most of his time is spent home alone if he isn't tending to somekind of personal royal business.

•You knew Lucifer meant it when he told you that your company is enough to repay him.

•Somewhere down the line, you've started catching yourself contemplating your feelings for him.

•Don't get me wrong, he's always made you swoon and get flustered. It's really hard not to when a handsome man is literally handing you everything you want on a golden platter.

•There are much more raw moments you have with him, when you're just sitting on the couch together and you start to think about your possible future together.

•You usually end up getting slapped with reality when you remember who it is you're looking at. The king of Hell.

•Being in a relationship with a man of such status could never be in the cards for you. You're aware that you're basically just his sugar baby and that's probably all you'll ever be.

•You were definitely fine with the transactional relationship between the two of you, in fact you enjoyed it.

•Now, with these feelings constantly creeping up on you it made everything so much more complicated, and it made it hard for you to be around him knowing you'll never be anything more to him than a sugar baby.

•Lucifer is a sweet man, but you know there's another side of him that's a powerful king. His wife was an equally powerful queen. You're not enough for him, he just wants someone to keep him company.

•What you don't know is that while you're sitting there on the couch next to him having an inner depressive episode, he's got a box in his pocket that he's waiting for the perfect moment to whip out.

•In the box is a flashy custom engagement ring that he wants everyone to be able to see from a mile away.

•That man wants to make you officially his and he has been trying his hardest to make that VERY clear.

•You're just kinda insecure and don't think high enough of yourself. ಥ⌣ಥ

[theabigailthorn]

Hi, I don't know if this has been asked a lot but I'd like to know how you deal with the transfobia without getting really sad constantly? I have come to the conclusion that I'm trans but struggle with the fear of transfobia to the point I'm thinking I shouldn't actually transition or even dress the way that would make me comfortable because the fear of being seen as trans is making me unconfortable anyways.

It does still upset me greatly sometimes, like when it happens in person or when it comes from people who wield actual power, or if the transphobia comes in the form of denying me something I need, like healthcare.

But when it's just anonymous people on the internet sending me hate, I guess I've learned from experience that their ability to affect my life is actually quite minimal. Like, "Oh no, @CarolBunchOfNumbers thinks my face looks manly? Well, I have a job I love and friends who support me so, who cares what she thinks!" (To be clear, I'm both lucky and privileged in that regard!)

Also, I've been on the Internet for 11 years - I've dealt with WAY worse than the average TERF. During the B**k A***l saga I had people trawling through my old videos looking for things my abuser said to me to repeat back, I had people signing my email address up to weight loss subscriptions to trigger my eating disorder, I've been libelled - like actually criminally libelled and accused of the worst sorts of crimes people can commit - so many times. And @CarolBunchOfNumbers thinks she can upset me with some thought-terminating-cliché about chromosomes or some shit? Please. My haters are of a higher class than Carol can even conceive of.

[livwritesstuff]

I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.

Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.

But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.

In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.

Not that Moe knows any of this.

All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.

Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.

Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.

And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).

They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.

Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.

The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.

Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.

That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.

They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).

“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”

And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.

Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.

Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?

Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”

[golbrocklovely]

dating colby headcannon

requested by anonymous: Could you possible write a dating Colby headcannon with the reader? Thank uuu

A/N: even tho i'm not taking requests, i figured i can do this real quick since it's a headcannon and i'm in the middle of finishing up the next chapter of the chosen daughter. so hopefully this holds yall over a bit longer while i finish that up :) and this is all gender neutral so anyone can read it ! lmk what you think and hope you enjoy.

let's start with how you two met: i think you being a friend of a friend would be how it all starts.

maybe this friend in common gets invited to a party that snc are at, and you tag along. you get introduced to colby, and yall hit it off.

colby is very much into vibes and how well he meshes with another person. so for him to be interested, he has to like being around you. that man does not waste his time around people he doesn't care about.

and i think with colby, things would start off PAINSTAKINGLY SLOW. if you're into a slow burn… that's what your life will be like lol

colby hasn't dated in a long time, it's been almost exclusively hook ups and situationships. so i think the beginning stages will be a bit rough (in more ways than one *wink wink nudge nudge*). i think it would take a long time before anything major happened, just because he's not used to being vulnerable with someone.

that being said, i can see him hooking up with you once or twice before anything serious even remotely starts, since that's his usual go-to method. that doesn't have to be all the way - it could be like making out in the club or in a house party bathroom. a little hidden, a bit secretive, but that makes it all the more fun. it's exciting because he makes you feel like you are the sun in his galaxy, even if it's just for a few minutes. that's how intense he can be.

and maybe you realize, "oh shit i got feelings for him…. will this ever turn into something more?" and that's when you start hanging out with him more, or at least making plans to.

and i think as time goes on, he grows attached to you (because he is a clingy person, respectfully). and he enjoys the parts of his day when he gets to see you. and that's when he starts to feel the sparks. but knowing him, he probably won't act on them for a while.

but slowly, you two get really close, and eventually try to start something. once he can feel his walls crumble, and yours are also down, that's when yall truly start to have a wonderful relationship.

so as for dating him, what do i think that would be like?

colby is very busy guy, no surprising to anyone. so it's hard for yall to hang out as often as you want to (which would be like everyday if you could, and same goes for him).

but colby finds ways of seeing you or talking to you at least once a day.

even if it's just to check in on you, or ask you about your day. colby also likes to tell you about the stuff he was up to, give you little heads up on new projects before anyone else. but only when he knows they're happening bc he doesn't like talking about things that might not happen. very earth sign of him lol

i don't see him sending 'good morning' messages, but i could see him sending 'goodnight' ones. definitely with a black heart emoji somewhere thrown in there.

oooh, pet names. i'm seeing him using baby, babe, darling, sweetheart, love, and possibly honey. especially when he's drunk, he's extra affectionate.

when he goes on investigations, he comes back and HAS to tell you everything. he also loves being around you after because you make him feel so comfortable and at home. and he needs that after being paranormally hungover.

if you go with him on trips… omg, he will be protective. for sure. checking in on how you're feeling every couple minutes.

and if you get really scared, he's ready to send you home. he doesn't want to see you hurt or terrified at all. so sometimes he isn't the most favorable towards you going with him (unless you insist).

yall's biggest past time together: cuddling.

that man needs cuddles, AT LEAST, once a day. otherwise, he will be whiny lol (he might not show it at first, but once he's comfortable, he's gonna be a baby about cuddles, guarantee).

he needs to be touching you at all times, whether out in public or not. he doesn't seem like a crazy PDA type, so nothing too ~sexual~, but he will be holding your hand every chance he gets.

unless, of course, he's feeling a bit frisky… then you run the chance of having to go home early or finding a private area to have your fun sksks

i see him being the type to wrap his arms around you from behind, pulling you tight against him. especially if you're waiting in like a long line or something. he just wants you in his arms whenever he can.

like i mentioned before, he is a very busy man. so i see him doing a lot of at home dates. making pizzas together (or just dinners in general), setting up little pillow forts for movie nights, cute vibes all around. omg and of course - LOTS of camping outside and staring at the stars and talking for hours. that's 1000% for sure.

and maybe if you're the type that likes hiking, maybe you guys would go hiking together.

but i do see him also taking you out to exclusive clubs, bars, and restaurants since he has the hookup and the following to get into places that are new.

emotionally, i think you two would be so deeply into each other. i think being understanding and just getting one another is something major he wants in a relationship. so i think always being open and honest would be the main center point of your relationship.

he wants no drama, and wants love to come easy. and most likely you feel the same way, which is why you guys mesh well together.

physically… i mean, cmon. look at the material lol

he's definitely wants to make sure your needs are met. he's a people pleaser after all. and if you're his person, he's making sure you're pleased.

he's a very giving lover, is all i'm gonna say ;)

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

I want you to know I respect your opinion and at the end of the day you can do whatever you want on your own page, which I love all the art you do. Your White Diamond AU is so remarkable I've added it to my own headcanon idea of Steven meeting his alternate selves.

With that said, why are you responding to posts or asks that talk about blatant shattering of other gems? Real SU fans don't immediately go "death to the enemy." Real SU fans understand that SU is about love, acceptance, second chances, and pacifism. I'll admit, there have been more idiots in the fandom since the show's end, but in my humble opinion, it's best to not give any of them attention, even if they are annoying.

Sorry if I sound rude, I just didn't get responding to that one ANONYMOUS comment.

It's not rude at all! And it's a great question! One I understand the reasoning of.

But I have my own reasoning for doing the things I do.

Mainly, I think that while ignoring SOME behaviors is definitely good.... talking about OTHER behaviors actively is the fastest and healthiest way to immunize the greater community against them.

Let me explain.

I've been in this fandom a long time now, and I agree with you - there's a solid possibility, a real chance that whoever sent that message is just a passing non-fan who decided to be weirdly edgy in my inbox. No big deal. It happens.

But in my experience, the SU fandom is.... wide and varied. There are people of all ages, and many opinions. It would be easier, of course, if the only 'true fans' were those who perfectly understood the show's themes. But to me, that veers dangerously close to a No True Scotsman type of thinking. The reality is that many different people watch SU. And while many of them do inherently agree with the message and understand the nuance, many more just watch the show because... they like the surface level graphics and cool fights and interesting worldbuilding. In fact, many of the show's fans are edgy teens (sorry edgy teens) who are in a life-stage where violence and being strong and cool and decisive in a morally black and white manner is the only way they can possibly imagine solving any problem. And... that's kinda the opposite of what SU teaches! But that's also the point. SU teaches those things on purpose.

And yeah, I can absolutely just ignore this part of the population. But ignoring a behavior does not actually make it go away 100% of the time. If a child in a supermarket comes up to you and starts smacking you with a wooden spoon from Aisle 4, then... sure... you can ignore them and see if their parent comes to get them, or they go away, especially if it's a very small child and they're not hurting you a lot.

But that's not the only option. You can ALSO opt to teach them - and any other spoon-wielding children watching - what COULD happen if they are crude or cruel to a stranger in public. Namely, you can snap 'stop it' and at the very least glare at that child. This is a lesson that will arguably teach them more about the interaction than a complete lack of reaction would.

Now, I'm not saying people who send me asks are all children and I'm doling out some moral lessons here. This is just a metaphor.

I'm simply a person in a social space (tumblr) who is driving my own blog. And while I DO ignore a very large part of cruel/rude asks I get (trust me, I do ignore many!) I sometimes also just post a reply to show what ELSE could happen if you say a borderline silly and arguably tonally inappropriate ask to a person. You could get replied to! In a sarcastic or snappy manner!

And maybe - just maybe - the other people reading my blog can learn something from the experience, and think 'ah, so doing it like THAT will maybe make people kinda annoyed, now I know and will not do that'.

I cannot deny that overall I agree with you, though. I don't think that these types of messages deserve attention on the regular. But I'd hope that my replies to these things are not really... regular. I ignore probably... 80% of these sort of things? I guess maybe it just feels like a lot less, since, well. The public ones are 100% of the ones you get to see!

[bellarkeselection]

Ride on Rodeo Girl

Anonymous ask - hi I love your work and was wondering if you could write a Cole Walter X reader where the first time they met was at the rodeo and the reader was competing in it

- very short request in my opinion and I am sorry. Hope you enjoy

My father was getting me signed in to compete in the competition, giving me the chance to walk around during the time before it was my turn to saddle my horse. Walking through the crowds of people I saw there was a cider stand and I was revealed since I needed a drink for now. "Hey how much for a cup of cider?"

"Woah now. You really must be into the rodeo spirit in that getup." A guy my age came over with messy blonde hair and green eyes. A smirk tugging on his lips with his reply.

I snorted at his remark. "Well considering I am competing I am required to wear this."

"Oh, sorry, I didn’t think that. My brother is competing today, too." He said, dropping his smirk and taking in my outfit better. I had light brown boots with spurs on them. Paired with some dark blue jeans and a tan flannel shirt tucked in. I finally had a tan cowgirl hat on my head to go with the whole outfit.

Hooking my fingers in the loop of my jeans I said back. "It's okay. Sometimes it's hard to know who is competing at these things. So how much do I owe for that drink?"

"It's on the house since you're competing today, rodeo girl." He offered with a smile.

I shake my head, taking the cup from his hands sipping on it slowly. I have to admit whatever they do to make this it's really good. "Thankd for this...uh I didn’t get your name."

"Cole, Cole Walter. My brother Alex is the one riding today." He introduced himself, leaning his elbows on the wooden countertop.

Extending my hand out to him with my other holding the drink cup. "Y/n, it's nice to meet you Cole."

"Hey would you want to get something to eat with me afterwards if you're free?" Cole asked showing me a cheeky grin and I dropped my gaze feeling my face turn red a little. He was awful cute if I had to admit to myself.

I wasn’t sure what to say to his offer of going out to dinner with him. My father was strict that I didn’t have time for guys given the career I had chosen to go down. My mother had to stay back home in my hometown to watch my younger siblings and take care of the bills that we had with me winning most horse riding competitions. “I guess I can. I’ll just have to let my dad know since we have to be in another state to compete in a few days.”

“No problem. I’ll give you my number and you just let me know if you can make it or not.” He writes down his number on a napkin handing it to me.

Someone called my name showing me it was my father coming over to us. “Y/n, there you are. We have to go. You’re the next rider up.”

“Okay, dad. I’ll maybe see you later Cole.” Turning my attention back to his green eyes I slipped the paper in my pocket waving bye to him and going to meet up with my father. “Thanks for the free cider too.”

Cole smirked watching her leave with her father walking beside her as he called out to her. “I’ll see you around Y/n. Ride on rodeo girl.” He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him but he wanted to know more about her. He wanted to watch her compete and he wanted to see her again…maybe just maybe have a relationship with her. He just hoped the universe would allow that to happen.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun @bbabycass

[unboundndd]

Hi everyone >:3

The Yone lover anon is here again!!!

OMG PARANOIA IS SO AGKSHSKABSHSHJSJSKS *convulses*

I have been analyzing every detail of the video clip and I have seen the statuses and tweets from the official platforms, it is always a pleasure to see our favorite swordsman interact <3

Well, getting to the point, I have already asked for this request but I wanted to see your execution cause, wow girl, I love your writing, it is exquisite :')

The request is this: Maybe a Yone x fangirl!reader?

Buuut, but but!! That their first face-to-face meeting was a surprise, I explain, she and Yone had met on Discord and had been interacting a little, when the two agreed to meet then she gets a BIG surprise, I hope I make myself understood

Sorry for the amount of text, I have expanded here

Anyway, I hope you take care of yourself and enjoy the new content that is coming out as much as I do

-🍄

Omg hi 🍄 anon!! ♡ Thank you so so much for your very inspirational Yone musings, I hope that me spacing out on the wordlbuilding a bit will not influence the pure fangirling that is going on in our heads!

In this universe Yone strikes me as someone who actually knows a lot about technology and i'm sorry... he produces music for rythm games. And yes he does those extremely complicated and highly detailed songs that are like the hardest charts in the game.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- Yone's career as a producer and DJ has not been the easiest one, the genres that fascinated him the most were usually not appreciated by a wider audience. The busy notes of electronic samples overlapping one another weren't designed to appaise the need for easy listening music in convenience stores or to climb the charts by becoming viral on social media, in fact the most recognition Yone's music had gotten before heartsteel was in the small niche of rythm game players.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- It was never the big game developers that contacted him, they had collaborations with world renouned producers and famous idols that voiced their characters. On the other hand smaller studios would often ask him to make one or two tracks for their games, which Yone would gladly accept to do. Despite the limited reach the producer was still proud of his work, always buying a copy of the games where his music appeared and keeping in touch with the communities that formed around them with a discord account that would't reveal who he really was.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You were just a casual player of one of those games, sometimes coming into its dedicated discord servers to chat with like minded people. When people asked you about your favorite songs in the game you would most likely reply with one of the songs Yone produced, often going into detail about what made them resonate with you so much and what made them so unique in your opinion.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- Under the guise of anonymity Yone would sometimes join the conversation, asking questions and indirectly getting some feedback from you, even finding it helpful with his writer's block sometimes. It was enough for the man to send you a DM to discuss more of your shared music tastes, hoping you'd reply.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- Your discussions quickly settled into a developing friendship, you knew the man had an extensive knowledge in music theory as he would sometimes ramble about it with you and he also told you that because of a new job offer he would become more and more busy as time went on. You'd still keep recommending songs to each other but the conversations would be less and less, you missed your friend but you knew that his work was more important than chatting about music.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- That was until Heartsteel's debut was announced with a small teaser, showing all the members and a small snippet of their new single. You immediately recognized the familiar electronic sound of the songs that made you and Yone bond in the first place, the nostalgic feeling making you smile. You decided to send a link of the teaser to him, asking for thoughts and sharing the hype about the new band.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- Yone had never felt so guilty yet glad that he never revealed that he had produced those rythm game songs to you. You were so familiar with his style that you spotted it immediately, you could've uncovered that he was actually part of the band! He tried to stop himself from asking more of what you thought of the members, thought of him, but quickly surrendered to the fact that hearing you gush about how much you liked his music gave him even more reasons to keep going.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- When he asked who your favorite member was he almost spit water on his midi keyboard, causing Aphelios to turn around to see if he was alright. Yone composed himelf quickly, yet the message you wrote kept resonating in his mind. "Oh I'm totally in love with Yone, looking at him and his interactions on twitter he sounds like a bit of a band mom and I find it really endearing! He looks like a really calm person who surrounds himself with a ton of unhinged friends! Too bad he hasn't revealed his voice yet! "

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- Of course all of this didn't go past Aphelios, Kayn, Sett, K'Sante and even Alune. They realized he was spending more time than normal on his phone, reading your thoughts on the new promotional materials that were being posted. Kayn was the one who confronted him first and could not stop laughing when he realized Yone had started to develop some feelings for you, scrolling trough the messages the younger man could also see that you were starting to feel the same way for him.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- As much as the Kayn was amused at the absurdity of Yone falling for his online friend turned fangirl, he alsoknew he had to help his fellow bandmate, barging into the common room to tell everyone what was going on and fill Ezreal in as he was oblivous to the whole ordeal. It took all of them a good half hour to concoct a plan to make a meeting between you and Yone happen, then another half hour was needed to convince the producer that this was indeed a good idea and that you would not take it as badly as he imagined.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- When Yone said he wanted to voice chat with you out of the blue you were a bit confused but excited. You were happy to hear his voice after one year of being friends and made sure to reserve a few hours just for him, as you went about your day your mind started to wander a bit about what it would sound like and if your conversations would flow just as smoothly as they did via text.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You were starting to feel a bit nervous when you picked up the call, timidly muttering a "hello?" and waiting for any sort of reply. "Oh Hello, it's nice to finally be able to associate a voice to the person." You could not help but squeal a little on the inside, who would have known that his voice sounded so rich and felt so mature? The two of you talked for a while about how long overdue your call was and how time had flown since you first met, it truly didn't feel like your first conversation at all.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You finally gave into the curiosity and asked him if there was any particular reason for Yone to have wanted to voice chat now and his reply almost left you speechless. "So... I'm know that you're very excited about the debut of Heartsteel, one of my coworkers managed to get two VIP tickets and backstage access. The thing is that the person they bought the other ticket for cancelled last minute and they gave it to me." A carefully crafted lie exited Yone's lips, all to give you an excuse to go meet him.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You couldn't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy for how lucky your friend was but you wanted to be supportive and expressed your joy for him and how excited he must have been. "Wait, you've got it all wrong. I wasn't planning on keeping the ticket." You froze for a second, all sorts of possibilities racing trough your mind. Then you heard it the notification of a discord message from Yone, he had just sent you the ticket. "Wait... so you want me to go?" You heard him chuckle as you were slowly realizing what this would imply, your heart couldn't race more than this. "You deserve to go and see them, you've kept an eye on them for a long time now. I don't want to impose it onto you so think about it for a while and let me know, will you?" Useless to say that you spent a very long amount of time asking him if he was sure about it and then thanking him profusely, this truly was one of your dreams come true.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- During the day of the debut concert the Heartsteel's members grand plan was put into motion: security was well aware that as soon as your ticket number was checked in they would have been able to identify you. Security notified their manager Alune and gave her a detailed description of your looks, she too felt happy about what was going on in Yone's life and told him and the other boys to concentrate on the performance while she took care of things in the background and made sure to give you and the producer ample time to talk.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You had the time of your life at the concert, seeing how much energy and stage presence Heartsteel had in real life made their music video pale in comparison. The stage felt electric and once it was over you couldn't help but feel dizzy and overloaded but also oh so happy, seeing Yone and Aphelios playing alongside the other members was the highlight of the concert for you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- So many things were going to your mind when you were queued up for the small meet and greet that was beeing held backstage, you were one of the last people and when it was your turn you couldn't help but feel like Sett, Kayn and Ezreal were all treating you like they somehow knew you already... and they were all hiding something. You felt their gazes following you as you finally approached Yone and even he looked like something was amiss.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You tried to ignore the feeling, you were about to meet the artist that managed to capture your attention so easily and always kept you wanting for more. You would not let this special occasion be ruined by your gut feeling! You took a few steps and prepared to greet him, hopefully having enough time to tell him how good his performance was and how much you enjoyed rooting for his success. Before you could even say a word he anticipated you and for a second you thought you had misheard everything he said.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- "Wait... how do you know my discord username?" You heard a few of Heartsteel's members chuckle, you did not realize how quiet the room had become as you were the last of their fans there, the laughter was interrupted by Yone speaking again. "Cut her some slack everyone, it's normal for her to be confused right now." Yone could see your eyes widen in realization you recognized his voice, he was your online friend! The one who would always listen to your rambles about the latest chart topping songs and give you his insight on what would make them so popular, the man who somehow knew your taste better than you at this point and was able to always give you spot on recommendations... ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- The grounding touch of his hand on your shoulder snapped you back into reality, you blinked at him in disbelief and confusion... and then realized about how much you fangirled about him while being unaware of who you were talking to. "There must be many questions running trough your head right now and I don't blame you if you're angry at me for never revealing who I really was. If I hadn't been under such a strict NDA at the time maybe things could have been different..." ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·- You gave the man a reassuring smile, you understood why he did what he did and suddenly him asking you what you thought of all the new trailers and promotional materials made sense. You were kind of honored to have been able to give feedback -although unknowingly- to a talented artist such as him. "Maybe I could clear some things up for you over dinner... I was too nervous to eat anything before the concert." You gave him a quick nod and he motioned you to follow him, you saw him gather his laptop and headphones and haistly put them in a sleek looking backpack and then taking out the keys to his car. The rest of your time spent backstage was a blur, his hand around your back was swiftly guiding you through the various areas and muttering to security guards that you were with him if they happened to enquire about you. Once in his car he could finally drop the persona and relax a bit more, the Yone you had met online was starting to show himself more and more. "Do you have any particular preferences for food?" He asked while making his way through the still packed streets of the city. "Mmh... I think I'll leave the choice to you, after all you just performend in front of thousands of people on an empty stomach." You replied, smiling at how kind he was being to you even though he must have been starving for hours. "Fine, I saw a ramen small ramen place on my way here before the concert. It will give us enough privacy for me to finally make things up to you."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

would i be the asshole for contacting my ex to ask them if they could stop talking about me online to a community that knows who i am? (🥐)

tw: kinda emotionally abusive relationship

bg info

me (24f) and my ex (28) were in a three month relationship three years ago following a whole year of friendship. they were my first partner and i came out as a lesbian to everyone during our relationship. when we were together, they were 24 and i was 20. i was very emotionally dependent on them when i was 20 due to mental health issues and so were they which is probably one of the reasons why our relationship was as explosive as it was. i looked up to them, my whole emotional world revolved around them, and our friendship/relationship was the only thing i had in my life at the time. they constantly asked me "hey is it even ethical that im dating you, im 4 years older, you tell me please, oh i feel like such a bad person", yet, they still continued dating me every time they would ask.

our fights were horrible and truly explosive as they broke their stuff in front of me out of anger, threw things at me and insulted me as stupid, amongst many other things. our fights usually ensued because i would ask them for reassurance and they would start panicking and screaming at me to shut up. to be fair, i would cry every time i was asking for reassurance which probably made them feel scared about losing me, so i consider myself 50% at fault for everything that happened in our relationship, i shouldve been able to talk to them in a secure manner that wouldnt trigger their abandonment issues. our fights were quite jarring and made me walk out on them several times out of fear. yet i always came back and apologized and took the whole accountability, even though i dont consider myself the only one at fault. walking out several times during fights was probably one of the worst things i could have done but at the same time i was simply scared. even when i walked out after our last fight, they begged me to come back, which i did, i apologized under tears, and yet, told them that i cant promise them to stay no matter what.. and left.

we met through tumblr and were in a medium distance relationship. after our relationship, i went to a clinic and had to learn a lot about myself, what i experienced and what i want from life. im in a very happy and healthy place now and since the end of 2021 im with my current partner whom i want to be the love of my life and whom ive started to build a life with.

context

i have my ex blocked on all social media because they used to do hour long deep dives into my blog, even as of recently (i have statcounter installed for my safety bc im paranoid about them sending me anonymous asks). at first i also used to visit their blog after our break up but stopped doing so after moving on with my life. one year after breaking up i temporarily unblocked them and explicitly asked them not to look at my social media (or at least to do it in a way in which i dont notice aka asked them not to watch my instagram stories).

while i dont visit their blog/social media because i dont want to know whats going on in their life, tumblr mutuals frequently dm me stuff like "hey i think you should know that your ex posted about you/shit talks about something that you posted". i havent asked my mutuals to tell me whenever this happens but i imagine they do so because within the tumblr space we exist, everyone kind of knows everyone (so my ex doesnt have to mention my name for people to know who theyre talking about). sometimes mutuals send screenshots of the posts so that i dont have to visit my ex's blog. last ive heard my ex joked about throwing jewelry at me and posted extensively about a tattoo that i got. my ex's behavior makes me uncomfortable and feel just as helpless as i did back then.

why i might be the asshole

im scared that they might be venting because i was more at fault in the relationship than them and that i am unconsciously deflecting. however, i talked about every detail of the relationship and this fear extensively with my therapist, friends, and partner who are of the opinion that i was young, scared, and intertwined in a relationship that was incredibly toxic. im still unsure though because my emotions frequently triggered theirs.

why they might be the asshole

i asked them once to stop visiting my social media and i feel like venting about our relationship that broke off 3 years ago to a tumblr community of friends and acquaintances is kind of unfair. however, i might be the asshole and they might just need the space for venting. i could just ignore the vents and let them heal in their own way from what ensued.

WIBTA if i confronted them again and told them that i want them to stop talking about me online? or would i be a party pooper because every person needs a space for venting?

What are these acronyms?

[pineappleciders]

Hi Cider!!! Do you think you write about a poor y/n (gen neutral) with Tolkien, Kyle, Kenny, and Clyde? 🫶

(on another note, I absolutely love your writing glad to see you're taking requests lol ❤️)

tolkien, kyle, kenny, and clyde with a poor reader

platonic G/N reader

A/N: hii !!! this is based off of my experience of growing up lower class and such, though i was never poor to the point of like kenny so tbis might be inaccurate!!! also thank you so much :))

tolkien black

at some point after meeting your family/going to your house, it makes him feel a little bad so he talks to his parents about organizing some sort of food donation

like him and his parents make food for your family and make sandwiches and stuff, and he claims it's the least he can do

always inviting you over for dinner!!!! you two spend a lot of time playing baseball in his backyard or watching shows on his racecar bed and he lets you take all the food you want

always coming up to you during school asking if you want to hang out at his place!!! sometimes the other dudes hang out with you too and it just becomes a full blown party if his parents aren't home

at lunch he always brings a little something for you; whether it be a little snack or a drink or something he'll always think of grabbing something for you while packing his lunch

he does feel bad, so he generally tries to make everything easier on you. little things like picking up your dropped books or holding a door open for you. they're small little gestures, but it's how he shows his care!!

kyle broflovski

he doesn't really think about your financial situation often, but if you mention something to do with it or it becomes apparent or something he might think about it for awhile

he knows he can't really do anything, and it isn't his place to really feel bad, but he can't help but contemplate it, esp if it's got you feeling down

i can see him being the type of person to anonymously give you things, like if your stomach rumbles in class and you mention you didn't have a good breakfast, he might buy something from the vending machine and leave it on your desk

or he asks his mom if he can send you money in the mail (his mom thinks it's adorable that he cares) u two also have lots of sleepovers and his mom makes snacks for you!!

other than that, he doesn't treat you differently. though he does get upset when cartman harasses you over it

"dude, at least i'm not as poor as Y/N's family! their mamas so poor she puts a penny in a gumball machine and asks for change!"

kenny mccormick

he understands more than anyone!!!

it makes him comfortable to know that someone else is struggling like him,,, as his friends (cartman) always downplay his situation and make fun of him for it, it makes him happy to have a friend who gets it

he might just deadpan at you whenever someone cracks a joke about you or him being poor. he is sick and tired

sometimes you two go to the forest and skip rocks at starks pond just to get out of the house, especially if your home situation is like his.

always coming up to you once school gets out to see if you wanna go hang out with the guys or just take a walk with him or something. you two hanging out is like a win-win-win, you get to hang out with him, he gets to hang out with you, and you both get out of your homes for a bit!!

you two use puppy dog eyes to get the others to pay for your shit when eating together and then giggle mischeviously about it

clyde donovan

he doesn't really think much of it at first, like he hears people joking about you being poor all the time but he never really gave it a second thought

although he might think about it when you ask to stay at his place for the night, and suddenly he feels kinda guilty

lets you eat as much food as you want from his pantry & fridge, and he lets you take stuff home sometimes. not all the time though because even he can't afford you sneaking around his kitchen all the time (but he lets it slide more often than he'd like to admit)

probably pokes fun at you with the other guys except he's just joining in with them and has no idea what they're making fun of you for💀

he actually really enjoys sleepovers, especially with all of his friends!!! so you and him end up having a lot of slumber parties with the rest of the dudes. cartman's group refers to your sleepovers as "their gay orgy night" or "circle jerk sesh"

he forgets a lot like he never really pays your situation any mind unless it becomes apparent or you bring it up. like if you haven't washed in awhile he wonders why you stink and then he's like oh yeah and offers to sleepover so you can finally shower

[gabessquishytum]

Hi, everyone! Gabe/Leo here. Welcome to my new pinned post. You'll find lots of info here, including a new tag library curated by @seiya-starsniper which should help you filter (or follow) particular bits of content. This post will be updated from time to time and will also tell you whether my inbox is open or not <3

For reference, my inbox is currently CLOSED.

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛ 

Since you've found yourself on my blog, please note that a lot of my content is not safe for work! I am over 18, and if you're on my blog, you should be too! Content rated over 18 will also be tagged as #nsft

Here on my blog, people like to send me asks with scenarios, prompts or fic ideas that they have had, and I take a bit of time each day to respond with my own “yes, and” - collaborating with the original asker to make a small piece of fandom content. Sometimes other people are inspired by this and write their own fics based on the posts! It's a lovely collaborative space where all are welcome - including those who wish to stay anonymous.

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛ 

I am primarily focused on dreamling! But I also love to write other ships in the fandom. The tags I use for ships are:

#corintheus

#dreamling

#hoblethros

#hobrinthian

#hobrintheus

#hobstruction

#immortal throuple

#hob x everyone

#hob x lucifer

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛ 

The general tags that I use for sandman/writing content are as follows:

#dream of the endless

#ferdinand kingsley

#fic recs

#hob gadling

#horny q

#meowpheus

#my writing

#nsft

#the sandman

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛ 

I also have some specific alternate universes which you can find or filter out with these tags:

#ace dream

#ace hob

#ballet au

#bdsm au

#bratty dream

#dreamling gender swap

#bratty hob

#disabled dreamling

#catboys

#chef hob

#cow hob

#fantasy au

#fat hob

#fem dream

#fem hob

#mafia au

#mob au

#sugar daddy au

#the addams family

#trans dream

#trans hob

#vampire au

#werewolf au

#warprize au

#warprize hob

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

For more of your tag filtering or searching needs, the following is a list of content warning tags that I will strive to use consistently. This list will be updated depending on what comes up in the future:

#dead dove do not eat

#cw age gap

#cw age regression

#cw agrere

#cw alcohol or #cw intox

#cw attempted murder

#cw birth

#cw biting 

#cw blackmail

#cw blood

#cw body modification

#cw body mutilation

#cw breeding

#cw child abuse

#cw cheating

#cw choking

#cw christmas

#cw cnc

#cw cucking

#cw daddy kink

#cw dark content

#cw death

#cw dermatillomania

#cw diaper

#cw disordered eating 

#cw domestic control

#cw dubcon or #cw dubious consent

#cw drugging or #cw drugs

#cw exhibitionism

#cw feederism or #cw feeding kink

#cw findom or #cw financial domination

#cw food

#cw food issues

#cw free use

#cw genitalia

#cw grief

#cw guns

#cw homelessness

#cw humiliation

#cw hunger

#cw hybrids

#cw infertility

#cw infidelity

#cw internalized homophobia

#cw kidnapping

#cw lactation

#cw major character death

#cw malnourishment

#cw manipulation

#cw medical

#cw memory loss

#cw menstruation

#cw mental health

#cw monsterfucking

#cw mpreg

#cw murder

#cw noncon

#cw object insertion

#cw objectification

#cw omegaverse

#cw omo

#cw overstim

#cw oviposition

#cw parent death or #cw patricide

#cw pain

#cw physical abuse

#cw piss

#cw pregnancy

#cw prostitution

#cw rough kink

#cw rough sex

#cw s&m

#cw scars

#cw scat

#cw self harm

#cw sex addiction

#cw sex pollen

#cw sex work

#cw sexual harassment

#cw sleep paralysis

#cw somnophilia

#cw spiking

#cw stalking

#cw suicide

#cw sui mention 

#cw stockholm syndrome

#cw teacher x student or #cw teacher/student

#cw tentacles

#cw threats

#cw toxic relationship

#cw transphobia

#cw violence

#cw vomit

#cw voyeurism

#cw watersports

#cw weight

#cw wetting

#cw yandere

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛ 

Finally, some of my anons like to identify themselves with emojis! This isn't mandatory at all. But here's a list of anons who have emoji-fied themselves (please note this may not be a complete list):

#yan anon

#🐈‍⬛ anon

#🍃 anon

#🦇 anon

#💳 anon

#🦊 anon

#🧀 anon

#🚒 anon

#🔪 anon

#💄 anon

#🌳 anon

#🎮 anon

#💍 anon

#🦒 anon

#🌘 anon

#🎸 anon

#🦎 anon

#🪽anon

#🍓 anon

#🤜 anon

#🐙 anon

#🐉 anon

#💎 anon

#🎭 anon

#🌛 anon

#🌻 anon

#🎉 anon

#❄️ anon

#🍐 anon

#🍭 anon

#🦋 anon

#🤰anon

#🖋 anon

#🏵 anon

#🦩anon

#🪐 anon

#🦄 anon

#💥 anon

#🍰🐲 anon

#☂️ anon

#👠 anon

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely day! ❤️

[luveternals]

paring: 1. simon 'ghost' riley x mercenary male reader rating: mature, MDNI cw: implied killing, mention of killing, tell me if I missed anything (a little rushed bc I'm trying to build a schedule here ;^; sorry! I'll fix it later, promise.) ~ ~ ~

It’s the perfect night for a kill.

The moon shines bright up above, but it’s a pale wonder in comparison to the lights hanging over the city square. You’re sitting at one of the tables set near the center for the event.

Your target is a nobody, a goon bold enough to try his fortune, lucky enough to succeed. Feeling generous, you let him have his moment, let him bask in the attention. Before you'll rip it away, hands stained with his blood.

The guy doesn’t seem a threat to anyone but himself, and you have to wonder what he could have possibly done to have you, of all people, be sent after him. Sometimes not asking questions does make your job harder.

But the money is convenient, and you're not giving that up.

You stand, empty glass abandoned on the table, let your lips spread into a lazy grin, and move to blend in with the crowd.

The man sits at the bar, the conversation with his admirers forgotten in favor of the fresh refill of his sparkling drink the bartender sets in front of him. “This one’s for you,” you imagine the bartender say, “offered by the anonymous stranger over there with the charming smile.”

It’s not hard to step to the counter and steal a seat right next to his while he stares at the glass. His eyes are glazed over when he meets your gaze, alcohol burning a pleasurable chill through his vein.

Face flushed, pupils dictated, and lips pulls into an awkward grin, he leans against the counter. “My luck really isn't over yet, eh,” he slurps and raises his drink to tip it your way, “Don’t need anyone to pay for me, but why pass the chance to meet the handsome man that comes with the free drink?”

“i wonder, is a simple close up of my face all you’d expected to get alongside it?” you say, amused.

He perks up and sits up. “Well,” he says stretching the word, “are you offering anything else? Would love t’know,” he leams forward and runs his gaze down your body.

You press your lips into a thin line and have to fight for it not to turn into a grimace. At least he wasn’t dumb enough to just reach over and touch.

“I think we should move somewhere else so you can find out, hmm?”

You don’t know how people do it, to use your body to get what you want out of your victim. But in such a crowded space and so in the open, there is little else you could do to get him to move somewhere more secluded.

Besides meeting your target here does have its own little perks. Especially for someone with his own little bounty on the back of his head.

There are too many people to keep track of unless your following your target close up or from a high vantage point.

“After you,” you say and when he turns away to leave, you turn your head and shift your attention upwards. There’s a hotel facing right towards the square, windows sparkling as they reflect the event's lights.

You don’t have to scan the building to find your own hunter.

The light of his own room have been left off, strategically placed between other empty rooms to avoid suspicion. But years of this life have taught you where to look and when you send a wink his way through the lens of his scope, you know he had him.

You turn back around to follow your own target, exposing your back to a possible bullet to the neck.

He won't shoot anyway.

Not now, not here. Not when it would send the people into a panic. Not when you are more valuable alive than dead — if they ever get their hands on you in the first place, of course.

It’s a perfect night for a kill, yes. And perhaps, for a close up to a different face as well. One that is hidden behind a mask, which despite, his believes, doesn’t add to his anonymity. You think it only adds to his fame, really.

-

Killing is inconvenient.

Despite the money it can land you if you have the right contacts and skill set, killing is inconvenient.

The body you are left with. The blood that clings to every surface like a witness. And all other clues and tracks you might leave behind if you're not careful.

Setting things right as if you’re innocent is what takes up most of the work and time. The planning, the actually doing the act, the aftermath.

It’s late into the night when you finish the deed. It’s late into the night when a white skull appears from the shadows, the moonlight spilling into the room from the balcony accentuates every detail.

He leans against the wall and watches you in silence. You'd be impressed that he found you, if you hadn't lead him here yourself.

“Is this how you make friends?” you ask, leaning back against the kitchen island of your new, little safe place for the night. “Creep on them from the darkest shadows?”

“You knew I was there,” he says, voice flat and gaze burning from inside the eye holes.

“Did I?” you say and let out a chuckle, “and you let me go through with my job after all. I’m surprised.”

You push yourself off the island and step forward, closer. Slow and calculate.

He watches you, but doesn’t twitch a muscle when you stop at stabbing distance. “I wonder. Is my employer joining forces with you to pay his debt to me?” you say. “Or do you need my service and my target tonight was a simple nuisance to you?”

“We don’t work with criminals.”

“Of course not,” you say with a dangerous grin, “so, who's my new target? Mind you, I have a different price for you.”

He crosses his arms and squints at you in suspicion. “Which is?”

“I think you can figure it out yourself. I like money, but I don’t have any real need for it.”

Infamous Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. He would be quite the price instead, you think.

Whoever the new bounty is, their days are over.

~ ~ ~ a/n: just telling ya, reader isn't the same as the last story, not crazy! Just in for the fun XD disclaimer: I don't know bananas about military nor cod. just here for the fun too :)

[morningberriesao3]

MWMD - Be My Love

Steve Harrington X Virgin!Eddie Munson

Summary: It's NYE, and the cat comes hurtling out of the bag. Eddie and Steve finally do something about their feelings.

Word Count: 6.8K

Chapter: 6 of 6 CHAPTER LIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… Virgin Eddie Munson, Dry Humping, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Minor Crossdressing (ahem, EDDIE WEARS A G-STRING), Oh no they’re both tops?! what will they do!!?!, Top Steve Harrington, Power Bottom Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Clamps, Under-Negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Creampie. Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use

Tags: Eddie Munson lives, 5 + 1 Things, slow burn, POV Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Caretaking, Massages, Sharing a Bed, House Party, Play Flighting, Bros Being Bros (JK it’s very homoerotic), Halloween, Boys in Makeup, Independence Day, New Years Eve, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending

A/N: thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged over the last few days! this story is so much fun and it was a blast to write. if you were to choose between an angsty rock star eddie fic next, or a fantasy vampire eddie fic next, which would it be? feel free to send in an anonymous ask if you have an opinion or input <3

Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’

December 31st, 1986

“Holy shit,” Steve shouts beyond the blasting music in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Another holiday, another party. Eddie has attended more parties since meeting Steve than he’s ever even seen in his entire life. This one is at some graduated basketball player’s home, and Eddie has been clinging to Steve’s side for the majority of night so he doesn’t end up alone. It seems like a very unsafe place to find himself without his escort. Steve shakes his glass that’s filled with pink liquid in front of Eddie’s face. “This is so good. You should try one of these. It’s so good.”

Eddie sways to the beat of the (terrible) music. He’s tipsy enough that he’d stopped complaining about it half an hour ago, but not drunk enough that it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. He pretends not to know exactly what song it is (You Make My Dreams Come True by Hall & Oates), even though he knows it word for word. It’s not his fault that the radio station sometimes plays shitty music. Over and over. Until he has to convince himself it is, indeed, shitty.

Eddie eyes the liquid in Steve’s glass. “What even is that?”

Steve squints an eye. “I think it’s strawberry – no, raspberry. And… peach?” He smiles that crooked smile at Eddie. “And a whole lot of liquor.”

The image that Eddie has cloaked himself in over the years tells him that he can’t sip on a fruity cocktail in a public place filled with his peers. But a little voice in his head tells him, You don’t care what other people think about you anyway. And if it’s good enough for the King of Hawkins High… So he looks at Steve and says, “Lead me to the refreshments, your majesty.”

Butterflies erupt in his stomach when Steve bends in half at the waist and holds an outstretched hand towards Eddie. “Right this way, milady.”

Now, here’s the thing.

Maybe being called a lady shouldn’t do something for Eddie. But what does everyone call him? The Freak. And when it comes down to it, there are parts of himself that are rather… freakish. Like the G-string that he pulled from the back of his drawer to wear tonight – a dirty little secret – for his own cheap thrill. Or the nipple clamps he hasn’t had the chance to try out yet.

Or being called a lady by Steve.

So he takes Steve’s hand, because it’s beckoning him to do so, and his stomach churns sideways, and he has to remind himself of his promise – the one he made to himself – that that thing that he and Steve did was a one-time thing. That, despite all reasoning in the entire world, Steve didn’t mean to get himself off with Eddie and didn’t mean to get Eddie off, too.

Does that make any sense at all? Probably not. But what makes even less sense would be the opposite theory. The one where Steve isn’t completely straight.

It’s a theory that Eddie won’t even let himself consider, because it would spark that pesky little flame of hope within him. Better it never gets lit in the first place, instead of lit and extinguished.

“Hey, Stace,” Steve says to the blonde girl in the kitchen, who has a shaker in her hand and a group of other cute ladies crowding her. Steve gives her a devastatingly beautiful smile and she rewards him with a bashful blush and a bat of her ridiculously long eyelashes. The jealousy that Eddie feels at the exchange is concerningly violent. “Can you make a couple more of these for me? They’re amazing.” Steve shakes the glass at her the same way that he did to Eddie a moment ago.

“Of course,” she chirps, biting on her lip in a way that Eddie can only assume is seductively. She lets her tongue poke out from her perfectly plump, pink lips to wet them. Eddie nearly scoffs aloud. “So, Steve. Are you here with anyone?”

Eddie looks down at his decorated hands to see if he’s gone invisible. He certainly feels like he has. But nope, he’s very much there, standing next to Steve.

Steve’s not as much of a prick as everyone else at the party, so he throws his arm around Eddie’s shoulder, unashamed. “Yeah – this is Eddie. I’m here with him.”

Stacy’s eyes trail sideways and look at Eddie for no longer than a couple of seconds. It’s long enough, however, for Eddie to read her distaste. “Oh. No, I know. I mean, are you here with anyone.”

Steve’s brows crumple above his Roman nose. “What? I’m here with Eddie.”

The group of girls twitter soft laughter. Stacy pours the contents of the shaker into two solo cups filled with ice. “You’re such a fool, Steve.”

She says it in a tone that’s probably supposed to be endearing, but Eddie can see how Steve bristles. “Alright. Well, thanks.” He picks up the two glasses, handing one to Eddie and turning his back to Stacy.

He pats Eddie on the back and points his chin towards a clearing in the centre of the room. They start to make their way away from the kitchen, but Stacy calls after him, “Only a few minutes until midnight! Come find me!”

Steve turns to face her once more – so does Eddie – and he doesn’t miss how she throws him a wink.

“Oh, um. Thank you. Maybe,” Steve says, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and hauling them away from her advances before she can say anything else. They find a quiet space in the living room, against the wall. Eddie leans his back against it while Steve takes a sip of his drink. “I hate it when they don’t take a hint.”

For a second, Eddie wonders if he doesn’t take the hint sometimes. Social cues and all that. That would, in fact, explain why lately he’s been living in a constant state of confusion.

But all he does is nod, and say, “Same.”

They stand there for a minute, sipping on their drinks, eyeballing the crowd as they laugh and dance. Then Steve cocks his head and takes a step towards Eddie. Suddenly, he’s very aware that there’s a solid wall behind him. That Steve is closer than he should be. That he’s pushing into his space when usually that’s just an Eddie thing.

Maybe he’s rubbing off on Steve.

He’d like to rub off on Steve. Again. If you catch his drift.

“So,” Steve says, looking down on Eddie, making him feel strangely small, “what’s the story with you and Gareth?”

Eddie furrows his brows, nearly choking on his cocktail. “Excuse me?”

“I never really asked before.” Steve shrugs. “And – I don’t know – you guys seem to hang out a lot.”

“Yeah. Uh. I’ve known him since like, grade three. He’s my best friend.”

Steve’s eyes drop from his for a moment. He chews on his lips. “Oh. Of course – I mean, That’s… great.” Eddie stares as Steve’s expression falls. And he has half a mind to say that he looks… jealous. But the confidence quickly returns to Steve’s gaze. “So, what am I then?”

Eddie’s stomach ties up in knots. “What are you?”

“If Gareth is your best friend. What am I to you?”

He’s aware that all plausible deniability has disintegrated. It probably did a long time ago, but now is when it really hits him. That look sparks in Steve’s eyes – the cheeky one where he’s being flirty and sexy and he knows it. The one that has been unleashed on him a few times by now, but Eddie’s always made excuses as to why.

And he is trying, trying, to find an excuse right now.

He only slightly pays attention when the chatter in the room gets louder. When everybody turns to the television in the living room that’s playing the New York City ball drop.

Steve doesn’t turn to the TV. He still crowds into Eddie. “Because sometimes I think one thing, and then sometimes it seems like the opposite.”

Eddie’s only slightly aware when the whole room raises their glasses in the air, and they yell in unison: Ten!

Instead of answering Steve’s question, he sucks in a breath and holds it.

Nine!

And then he turns it around; he says, “I don’t know, Stevie. What am I to you?”

Eight!

Steve’s lips twitch into that cocky little grin of his, the crooked one that Eddie loves so much. God, he’s so attractive. “Well, I think –”

Seven!

“– it hasn’t been the most traditional way of getting here. But we’re –”

Six!

“– together. Boyfriends.”

Those two words volley around Eddie’s head for what feels like an eternity. Together. Boyfriends. The world is on a standstill. Everything is in slow motion. His heartbeat stops, and so does his intake of air. Everything kind of zeros in on Steve, and him, so close. Heat radiating from the body that’s pressed up into his own.

A million thoughts race through his mind at once: This isn’t real. You didn’t hear right. This is a joke.

And then there’s the other thoughts. The ones that tell him that everything that has happened since March – everything that’s happened in the last nine months – suddenly makes sense. Everything since waking up in that hospital hand-in-hand with Steve. That maybe the flirty moments – the small touches, the kiss that he only thought was a game, the playfight that turned into something more – maybe those things meant what Eddie was always trying to avoid thinking they might mean.

To keep himself from getting hurt.

But maybe all this time, Steve has cared – the same way Eddie has cared – and he’s been trying to tell him. Not in words, but in actions.

And each time, Eddie had shut himself down afterwards. He closed himself off from allowing a discussion, just in case it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

Here it was. That discussion. But it was everything Eddie never expected. Everything he’s always wanted.

All of this berates Eddie’s thoughts, but he’s only aware that no time has passed at all when the crowd yells: Five!

Even though he feels like he’s cracked the code, there’s still that pesky devil on his shoulder that’s whispering in his ear: there’s no way any of that is the case. So he stares up at Steve – he can feel the whites of his eyes shining as they balloon – and he whispers, “Really?”

Four!

Steve’s little smile turns into a full-on grin. His puppy-dog eyes crinkle in the corners. He takes another step into Eddie’s space, even though there’s not much left. When did he get so goddamn close? “Are you gonna give me a kiss?”

Three!

Eddie scans the room. He forgot that they aren’t alone, even though – tucked away in the darkened corner of this massive house – it feels like they are. Nobody is looking. Nobody is looking and Steve is so fucking close…

Two!

Eddie’s eyes flick down to Steve’s mouth. His lips are shimmering pink. Maybe from the drink…

One!

He nods and breathes, “Fuck yeah.” And then Steve’s lips are on his.

It’s as unbelievable as you might think, having Steve Harrington kiss you. Really kiss you. Not under the façade of a game or a dare, but because he wants to.

Just like the rest of him, his lips are sure. Confident. They slot with Eddie’s first with a gentle brush, and then start moving with conviction. He coaxes Eddie’s mouth to part and suddenly he can feel the scrape of Steve’s teeth against his lower lip. He can feel the heat of Steve’s breath as they breathe the same air. He can feel that Roman nose brushing against his own. Feels Steve’s hand – the one not carrying the drink – press flat against his stomach.

And then Steve’s tongue flicks out to catch the jut of Eddie’s lips – kind of like that time on the Fourth of July – but it’s a question. One that Eddie answers by opening his mouth further. That tongue slips inside, and he can see fireworks behind his eyelids, he can taste Steve’s drink, he can feel the slide of wet against his hard palate.

His self-control snaps.

Eddie pushes back into Steve. His tongue meets his in the middle, rougher, impatient. Their teeth clack together, he can feel drool seeping from the corner of his mouth and he’s not sure if it’s his or Steve’s but it doesn’t matter – he wants it all. His tongue licks over Steve’s mouth and he tastes artificial vanilla. And he realises in that moment that Steve’s lips aren’t shining and pink because of the drink, but because of the lip gloss.

When he has that lightbulb moment, Eddie groans into Steve’s open mouth. It’s mostly drowned out by the cheering of the crowd – oh yeah, the crowd – but still, Steve chuckles and pulls back.

“Do you what to stay longer, or do you –?”

“Fuck, no. Let’s get out of here.”

Maybe he’s a bit overeager, but Eddie grabs Steve’s hand that’s still pressed against his stomach and he yanks him towards the front door. Everybody is still blissfully unaware of their kiss. Everybody but Little Miss Drink Mixer Stacy, who’s staring so hard it looks like her pretty green eyes will pop from her skull. Her mouth is hanging open. She’s frozen in place.

Eddie really should be frightened that somebody in Hawkins witnessed such a disgusting act of intimacy between two men, but instead he feels proud. He blows her a kiss and wiggles his fingers in a wave before he and Steve slip from the door and into his rusty van.

He starts the ignition, and before he can even shift into reverse, Steve is grabbing his hand. He stares at it for a minute. Such a simple thing, holding somebody’s hand. But it still has his heart in his throat. It’s just so real.

“What are you thinking right now?” Steve asks.

Eddie feels the ways his fingers fit so perfectly between his own, and counters with a question of his own. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Steve blinks at him from the passenger seat. “What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you – I don’t know – slap some sense into me? Tell me that you… felt this way. Or wanted this.” He gestures vaguely to his chest, wrapped in a WASP t-shirt.

“I thought you knew,” Steve says simply. He gives a loose shrug of his shoulders. “It’s pretty obvious that the things we do together aren’t really – you know. What just friends do.” His brows furrow. “Well, maybe you do those things with your friends, but I don’t –”

“I don’t either.”

Steve pauses for a minute as he smiles over at Eddie. “You really didn’t know?”

“It was weird.” Eddie looks down at his lap. “But I didn’t want to assume things. I didn’t want to wreck our friendship, because I – well, I really like you.”

Steve finally lets go of Eddie’s hand long enough for him to back from the front of the house they emerged from. He grabs it right back once they’re on the main road back to Forest Hills Trailer Park.

“I thought it was one of two things,” he says. “I thought you either wanted to take things slow. I didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything, because losing your virginity can be a really big deal.” Eddie’s entire face ignites. He tries not to think about how sad that is – twenty and a virgin. When Steve has been rolling in the sheets since he was probably fifteen. How casually Steve just said that, like it isn’t mortifying. He continues, “Or, I thought you weren’t really interested in taking our friendship any further.”

Eddie gawks at Steve. “Dude, I didn’t even know you being into dudes was a possibility. And if you were…” He pulls into the gravel in front of his trailer. It crunches under the tires. He doesn’t finishes his thought.

Not until Steve squeezes his fingers, and asks, “And if I was, what?”

“And if you were into guys, there’d be no way you were into me.”

Steve looks like he can’t even comprehend why Eddie would say such a thing. That he’s not aware of how different they are. That he’s not aware that Eddie is a mere mortal while he’s a god. “I’m into you, man. I’m so into you.”

Eddie stomach erupts once more into a thousand butterflies. Or maybe they’re bats. He can feel his cheeks turn even redder.

“And for the record,” Steve adds, “I really like you, too. I – I really like you. And I wasn’t lying, at the party. I want us to be boyfriends.”

Eddie chews on a little patch of dry skin on the corner of his lip, and desperately tries to kill the bats flapping away in his chest. “Okay. Boyfriends. I, uh. I want that, too.” He’s not great with words, but it gets his point across.

Because Steve is beaming as he leans across the centre console to press his lips to Eddie’s once more. Eddie tastes peach, and vanilla, and cigarette smoke, and chewing gum. And he tastes just Steve as their tongues mingle together.

Steve’s hands start exploring him – squishing the little meat he has on his thigh, teasing under the hem of his shirt, brushing against the few hairs he has trailing from his navel below the waist of his jeans. This time, when his cock starts swelling, he doesn’t try to hide it.

The beautiful cherry on top, is that this time, he’s freshly bathed and somewhat groomed. This time when Steve sees him naked, he won’t be embarrassed.

When Steve sees him naked. What a treacherously delicious thought.

When he moans into Steve’s mouth the same way he did at the party, there are no other noises to swallow it up. So it fills the space of the van, this raunchy sound that tumbles from Eddie without his consent. It sounds so unlike him – desperate and begging. But then Steve makes his own noise, and suddenly Eddie can’t wait any longer. He can’t wait to get himself on Steve, inside Steve, whether it’s his hands or mouth or his perfectly tight ass.

“Fuck,” he groans, “let’s go inside. Now.”

They barely make it through the front door and into his room. Steve is all over him, groping at his nipple ring through the fabric of his shirt, flicking it, twisting it – fuck, fuck. Eddie’s own fingernails are digging painfully hard into Steve’s shoulders, scraping against his neck, pushing under that stupid rugby shirt to rake against his impressive chest.

He crowds into Steve – shoves him against the ledge of his mattress. But before he can get Steve onto his back, he swivels so somehow he’s the one in front of Eddie. He’s the one pushing Eddie onto his back.

He falls to the mattress, Steve towering over him like some powerful warlord.

Eddie’s dick is throbbing, hard as steel in his jeans. He’s probably not contained at all in the – oh, fuck. Oh, FUCK. The G-string. The G-string that he put on before the party. The G-string that he has no intentions – zero – of Steve even knowing he owns, let alone seeing him wear. Why the fuck did he choose tonight to try it out, why did tonight have to be –

Steve bends to pop the button of Eddie’s fly, fingers deftly undoing the zipper.

“Fuck – uh – Steve. I just have to – can I just have a minute? I forgot to do something.” His dick is so tender. He can feel his heart beating between his legs, can feel himself leaking into the tiny cotton gusset of the panties. So small. So tight.

Thankfully, Steve nods. “Don’t take too long.” Before relief can find Eddie, before Steve pulls away from him to let him stand, he dips his fingers under the waistband of his jeans – just a small tease against what is supposed to be his boxers. But they find the string of fabric squeezing against the flesh of his hip instead.

Eddie sees the moment when Steve realises that he’s not feeling the elastic band of Eddie’s normal underwear, but something entirely different. “Uh, Steve…”

“What’s this?” Steve cocks his head to the side as his eyes trail down Eddie’s body, to his gaping jeans. When Eddie looks between his own legs, he nearly chokes at what he sees. The dainty fabric, edged in lace and a tiny, feminine bow, stretching obnoxiously over his cock. It’s holding on for dear life, that little triangle of fabric. It’s barely containing him – it’s not containing him. The waistband isn’t against his skin, it’s being pushed from his body by the swollen head of his cock and through the gap there, the flushed red tip can be seen. Glistening, strained, wet.

“Steve, I didn’t – it’s not…” Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say; he’s wearing women’s underwear. And not just any women’s underwear. The smallest pair that he could possibly get his grubby little hands on. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover what he’s feeling.

Steve’s eyes are glued between Eddie’s legs. “Is that a thong?”

Just hearing those words leave Steve’s mouth makes Eddie want to die. “Oh my God.” He covers his face with his hands. “I didn’t know we’d be doing this – I didn’t know! I’m sorry. I don’t do this all the time. It’s the first time I’ve – I swear. Jesus Christ.”

Steve’s quiet, but Eddie doesn’t dare look at him. Until he hears, “Show me.”

It’s a command, all but growled at Eddie from the man atop him. When Eddie opens his eyes, he’s met with a rather ravenous looking Steve – a predator appraising its prey. His eyes are black, his jaw is tense. The muscles there feathering as he clenches and unclenches his teeth.

“What –?”

“Show. Me.” Steve hauls Eddie to his feet but doesn’t step far enough away. Their chests are still touching – Steve’s heaving like he’s parched for breath. Eddie is frozen for only a moment, but soon enough his trembling fingers are peeling the shirt from his own back.

The look on Steve’s face doesn’t make him feel ashamed anymore. It makes him feel appreciated. Sexy. It makes him feel like maybe this part of himself that he wants to explore – this part of himself that really does make him a freak – can be done next to the man that he can now call his boyfriend. His partner.

He hooks his thumbs under the waist of his jeans, and he pushes them down.

It’s hard to get them off when Steve is still standing so close to him – so close that their bodies rub together as Eddie moves to take the rest of his clothes off, bar the little black G-string that only lived in the back of his drawer. Until now.

The air from Steve’s lungs puffs against Eddie’s face when he straightens himself out again. And then Steve’s hand lifts against his shoulder, pushes him backwards so he stumbles back onto the mattress. And because he’s feeling brave (how could he not when Steve is looking at him like his last meal?), he lays himself out on the bed. He spreads himself open.

Steve’s eyes rake over every inch of Eddie’s body, from the top of his curly head, over his flushed cheeks, down his pale chest that’s painted with not only silvery scars, but splotches of nervous red. They land between Eddie’s legs, where his knees are lewdly spread to display just how much the little triangle is struggling to hold everything down there. Eddie knows how it gapes around his balls, how heavy they look compared to the scrap of fabric. He knows because he stared at himself in his mirror before they left for that stupid party. And he knows that now, with his cock engorged between his legs, that it’s only gaping more.

Eddie swears he sees Steve’s knees nearly give out. He definitely sees his hands form fists by his sides, knuckles going white with the force of them. Steve doesn’t lift his eyes from Eddie’s crotch as he says, “I am going to fuck you until you cry.”

The room spins as Steve undresses – Eddie barely registers his words. He drinks in Steve’s near naked body, his abs that flutter as he works off his belt and then his Levi’s. The thick outline of his dick tenting his black boxers. But then he thinks, ‘when Steve fucks me?’ as he crawls slowly between Eddie’s legs. So he hooks them around Steve’s middle and uses all his might to flip that muscled body onto it’s back.

Eddie straddles Steve as he says, “I think you meant to say you’ll cry as I fuck you, Harrington.”

He can feel the line of Steve’s cock under his boxers, pressed against his near bare ass. It’s only made more obvious as Steve grabs Eddie’s hips and pulls them harder against himself, lifting his hips to rub against his body. “But your ass looks so good in that tiny little thong.”

“I don’t think you got a great look at my ass yet. How would you know?”

And just as fast as he got Steve onto his back, he’s on his again. Steve looms over him, grabs around his torso, and flips his body like a ragdoll. Eddie’s face presses into the blankets as he lays face-down, his dick throbbing as it rubs under him and against the mattress. Steve’s hands splay against the valley of Eddie’s spine, fingers slipping under the string waist of the G-string, pulling the fabric where it was almost buried between the cheeks of his ass. “I’m getting a pretty good look now. Turns out, I’m right.”

Eddie tries to lift himself up, tries to get himself in a position of power once more. But Steve bores down on him, pressing his chest flush against the panes of Eddie’s back. His hips pitch forward and his cock drags against the cleft of Eddie’s ass. And he hates himself for this, he really does, but he whines at the sensation. He whines, long and loud into the ruffled blankets, a little river of drool seeping from the corner of his lips as he does.

“If you think you’re going to stick your cock in my ass, Harrington, you can think again,” Eddie says. But there’s a part of him, a small part that’s growing, that knows that’s a blatant lie.

He always thought, without a doubt, he’d top the first time he had sex, and he’d top the second, and the third, and the fourth, and so on. He thought he’d always be the one to get someone underneath him, someone crying and begging, someone gagging to get dicked down.

But he feels himself falling into some form of submission. Not that he wants to admit it.

Steve presses into Eddie again and again. He can feel the panties soaking up as much of his precum as it possibly can, but it must be reaching its threshold. There’s so much. His cock is weeping and so is he as he hears Steve grunting with each thrust. “But think about how good it’ll feel. Think about being stuffed full of my cock, Munson.”

Eddie isn’t crying yet, but it sure sounds like he is with the noise that just erupted from him. It’s enough of an answer for Steve.

“Fuck yeah, listen to yourself. You want to take it as much as I want to give it to you.”

Eddie tries to swallow down his sobs, his pants, but really he just sounds pathetic as he says, “In your dreams.”

Steve bends over Eddie’s back, gets his face nice and close to his ear. “You’re damn right in my dreams.”

A finger slips under the band of Eddie’s thong and pressed against his asshole. Eddie moans and arches into it, but he spits, “Fuck you, man,” with the little conviction he has left.

It’s not very much.

He wants Steve, he wants to be coated with him, covered from head to toe, all over his skin, outside, inside. He wants to take Steve’s cock every way that he can.

“Keep these on,” is all Steve says as he moves away from Eddie’s back, snapping the thin side of his panties against his skin.

Eddie does.

But Steve – he strips down to nothing, completely bare naked as he stands near the edge of the mattress. His cock juts proudly from him, and Eddie turns to stare, taking in every goddamn inch of his impressive length. Somehow, that’s going to be inside him, but he can barely compute it.

“Lube?” asks Steve. Eddie points to his end table where he keeps stuff like that. The rare nudie mag, the bottle of lube, the nipple clamps.

The nipple clamps.

Eddie grins something sharp and feral as he tumbles from the bed, reaching the drawer before Steve has the chance. He throws the lube onto the mattress, but he keeps the nipple clamps in his hands, joined together by a thin, silver chain.

Steve eyes the metal in his hands. “What’s that?”

“These, dear, sweet Stevie, are what you’re going to have to agree to if you think you’re fucking me tonight.” Eddie would bend to Steve’s will either way, but he wants to see what he can get away with. Steve sucks his lip between his teeth and clamps down on it. He’s nodding before Eddie even has the chance to tell him what they are. “Good. Get on the bed.”

Eddie regains some of his gumption as Steve clambers to obey his orders, throwing himself on the double mattress that they’ve shared now for months. He leans his back against the headboard, reaching between his legs to stroke at his cock that looks nearly as painful as Eddie’s own.

If Eddie did the same thing, he’d come in a matter of seconds. It’s probably better he gets fucked than do the fucking, because it would last no longer than he could even get himself sheathed in Steve.

He walks on his knees to where Steve is splayed out – as if on a platter. He runs his hands against the fuzz on his thighs, up the rippling abs that are adorned with matching scars to his own (albeit, not as many), through the thatch of chest hair between his pecs. Then he pinches on Steve’s pretty, pink nipples to get them peaked and prepped for his little surprise.

Steve gasps, but presses into Eddie’s fingers. His hand stills from stroking his cock as Eddie swings the simple, circular clamps, attached by a chain, between their chests. “You ready?”

“Fuck yeah,” Steve says, even though Eddie is sure he has no idea what he’s agreeing to.

He opens the clamps wide enough that they won’t hurt too much, but narrow enough to pinch into the peaks on Steve’s chest. Steve moans when the first one clamps onto his nipple, and lets his head fall back onto the headboard for the second one. Eddie trembles with delight as Steve’s cock offers a pearl of precum when he tugs on the chain.

So he swoops to lick it up.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasps, eyes fluttering open as Eddie’s tongue swipes against the bulb of his dick. He seals his lips around the head of his cock, and sucks on it like a cherry popsicle in June. Steve’s hips buck forward into the heat of Eddie’s mouth, against the soft skin of his cheek. He twirls his tongue and laps at the slit, and he’s not sure if he’s doing a great job, but Steve’s thighs twitch under his hands and he’s making these sexy little noises, so he figures it can’t be bad.

He savours the musky taste of Steve, salty and bitter. And he learns pretty quickly that sucking Steve’s dick might be his new favourite pastime. The way he shakes and whines and whimpers is almost as delicious as the heavy, hot feeling of the cock in his mouth.

It only takes five minutes before Steve is tugging on Eddie’s hair, easing his lips from his length as he says, “Okay, okay. Don’t make me come yet. Jesus.”

Eddie wipes at the saliva seeping from his mouth with the back of one of his hands. He tugs on the chain connecting Steve’s nipples once more, making him keen into the air. Music.

The next thing Eddie knows, he’s being charged by Steve’s broad shoulders, backwards. He falls flat on his back, his head and hair hanging from the foot of the mattress as Steve grapples at the lube.

He doesn’t say anything as he slicks up his fingers, he only stares down at Eddie with so much want that it looks like he might burst. If it’s anywhere close to what Eddie’s feeling, that might very well happen.

“Ready?” Steve leans forward and tugs Eddie’s panties to the side. He can hear the threads in them pop as they’re forced past their limit of stretch. And as they pull to the side, his cock springs free from what little fabric sheathed it. They both look between his legs, at how red Eddie is. How swollen, how wet. His dick twitches at the attention, and he spreads his knees further apart as his answer to Steve’s question.

It stings when Steve pushes two of his fingers into Eddie. It stings, but more than that, it stretches, it spreads, it squeezes. God, he feels so full, Steve’s fingers are so big. He moans unabashedly at the ceiling, twisting his fingers into his own hair to distract himself.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling his fingers out only to plunge them back into Eddie deeper than before.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, yeah.” Eddie tries not to let the tear gathering in his eye slip bast the brim. It doesn’t work. It feels… it feels so good. Like its scratching an itch he didn’t know he had. And then Steve’s fingers brush against something inside him – a spot he’s only read about – one he didn’t really know was fact or fiction.

It’s fact. It’s so fucking fact.

His voice breaks as he all but yells into he empty air, Steve’s fingers brushing against that spot over and over and over… and, Jesus, he’s not even touching Eddie’s dick but he’s gonna come. He’s gonna come before Steve has a chance to touch him.

But then Steve stops.

“You sound so fucking hot,” he says, slathering his hand and his dick with more lube. He pushes a third finger into Eddie like he’s making a point, forcing him to cry out once more. This time he doesn’t brush against that spot, Eddie has enough time to recollect himself as he gets stretched over Steve’s fingers.

“Steve?” he says, lifting himself to rest on his forearms. Steve cocks his head sideways, his fingers stilling inside Eddie’s body. “Fuck me. Right now. Fuck me.” And just to assert his dominance, he grabs the back of Steve’s neck and hauls him closer.

Steve growls and blankets himself over Eddie.

His lips crush against Eddie’s. Their kiss is anything but timid or practiced or skilled as they attack each other with their tongues, devouring each other in deeps licks and bruising bites. Everything between them wet and warm.

The blunt end of Steve’s cock lines up against Eddie as they consume each other. And then he’s pushing forward.

Someone – Eddie isn’t sure which of them – moans into the other’s mouth. It’s a shared breath anyway, when one noise is made, the other swallows it down. Give and take.

There’s an unrelenting pressure between them, and Eddie feels it when the head of Steve’s cock pushes past his rim. He’s never felt like he feels in this moment. Claimed, but still equal as he presses his fingers into Steve’s neck with one hand and tugs yet again on the chain attached to his nipples with the other. Steve whimpers as much as Eddie, sliding forward inch by glorious inch. And then he’s seated so deeply inside him that Eddie swears he can see a bulge by his belly button.

“You better start moving,” Eddie says, panting against Steve’s lips, “or I’ll pin you down and do it myself.”

With that, Steve pulls an inch from Eddie’s body and pitches forward again. His cock rubs against that bundle of nerves inside Eddie, and he starts leaking profusely between their stomachs, a jolt buzzing into his core each time Steve’s abdomen brushes against his flushed tip.

Steve hums into Eddie’s mouth as his pace quickens. Eddie could come from the sound alone – their skin slapping together aggressively, only heightened by the ridiculous amounts of lube slicking their bodies. Steve grunting and hissing. His eyes squeezing shut and fluttering back open to bore into Eddie’s. They’re both covered in a sheen of sweat; Steve’s olive skin glistening and sparkling against the warm light of the tabletop lamp.

The coil in Eddie’s stomach tightens and burns bright. He’s whining with each thrust of Steve, building a tension that’s about to snap. And as if Steve knows, he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock and starts stroking, quick, dirty.

“Oh, fuck, Steve. Steve.” He can feel his body tensing around Steve’s length, can feel his muscles beginning to contract.

“You gonna come all over my cock?” Steve says, low and sultry. It almost finishes Eddie off.

But somehow he holds off, just for a few more seconds. Enough to say, “Not before you come inside me, baby.” He doesn’t even know if it’s true. But still, he pulls on Steve’s nipple clamps because he has an inkling that it might finish him.

“Fuuucckk, fuck.” Steve’s hips lose their rhythm. He fucks into Eddie sloppily, and then something hot and wet is dripping from inside him as he rockets against his ass.

When Eddie feels Steve’s cum dripping out of himself, getting shoved back in with Steve’s still pistoning hips, the tension snaps. Cum surges from his cock in hot, white ribbons, slicking Steve’s fist, catching in the fabric of the G-string bunched to one side, shooting against Steve’s and his own scars.

He’s sure he says something – maybe a string of curse words, maybe Steve’s name – but his mind whites out before he can commit that detail to memory. But he does know his muscles are tremoring in Steve’s grasp, he does know Steve’s abs twitch against his fingers as he rubs his spend into his skin.

And then they collapse, Steve softening in Eddie’s body with each of their heady breaths.

Time ticks by until Eddie can comprehend. And then – like the time before – he laughs.

“What the fuck?” Steve says, but it has no malice. He lifts his head from Eddie’s neck, where he was pressing delicate kisses, to grin down on him. “Is that something I’ll have to get used to? You laughing after sex?”

Eddie isn’t really sure. So he says, “I guess we’ll have to have more sex to see.”

Finally, Steve pulls out. Eddie can feel liquid drooling from within him, cum and lube. He needs a shower. But he needs this moment with Steve more, so he wraps his arms around those strong shoulders and pulls him into his chest. Steve hums his approval, nestles into Eddie’s side like he belongs there.

He does belong there.

When Eddie goes to the bathroom to shower, Steve joins him like he did all those months ago. This time, however, he steps into the water. He wraps his arms around Eddie and presses the pads of his fingers into his head when he washes his hair so sensually, that Eddie might weep. Steve doesn’t say something smart when Eddie gets hard again; Eddie doesn’t feel embarrassed about it.

They get each other off a second time, with Steve’s hand wrapped flawlessly around them both.

Then when they go to bed, they tangle together in a pile of limbs, without even their boxers. This time, when he wakes up to Steve clung to him, Eddie doesn’t go still or try to keep Steve from waking. He presses into him until his eyes flicker open in the dark of the dead of night.

They get each other off a third time, with Eddie nestled tightly between Steve’s thighs and his fingers circling his cock possessively.

Then, they finally fall asleep.

January 1st, 1987

Eddie wakes up in Steve’s arms.

This time, he doesn’t question what it means, doesn’t question what might happen tomorrow.

A new year.

A new start – with Steve.

’86 really was his year.

THE END :)

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plltxe

plltxe [p·ḷ.ˈt’·ɛ] v. speak

Anonymous Request: Can I request a Lo’ak fic where his female mate is scared to love and open up to him as she finds it hard to trust people, and he is so patient with her and doesn’t pressure her in any way. He sees her crying one day and is gentle with her and is so happy that she is finally opening up to him and being affectionate with him?

Y/N has a stutter, and Lo'ak is furious when someone makes fun of her for it.

1,296 words

Sometimes, even though the words are perfectly strung together in my head and I know exactly what I want to say, it takes so long to get them from my mind, past my lips.

Some words get twisted, others I get hung up on, and I have to speak in as few words as possible so that I can get my point across.

As a child, I was teased mercilessly for it. For quite a time, I stopped talking, and I focused on perfection in every single area of my life, besides speech.

I am a profoundly excellent hunter, a beautiful flyer, I can weave beautiful tapestries on the loom, fish enough to feed the clan, create fine jewelry and clothing, and braid hair in ornate patterns for special occasions.

The only thing I cannot do, is speak. Not without great effort, and great anxiety.

Lo'ak has never cared. He talks enough for the both of us, and any spoken sentiment I send his way, he sits patiently and attentively, listening.

Lo'ak is kind, and generous, and too good for me. I know I have kept him at arm's length, but it's a habit. No one has ever had the patience for me before - not even my own parents - so it's hard to imagine that he will not get sick of waiting for me to say what I mean.

Soon, we are to be mated. He asked, and I replied with one word: yes.

Still, it feels as if I haven't really let him in yet.

--

Lo'ak returns from a long hunt with his father and brother, dragging a sled behind him with their kills. They drop the meat off at the fire pits to be prepared and used later that evening, and without hardly a goodbye, he turns and leaves his family, looking for her.

She is not in her hammock, so he checks the next place he thinks he'll find her, and he has luck.

There is a small pond, not too many paces from home tree, where children swim during the day. It is too shallow to be of much use besides that, but there is a branch that hangs over, just tall enough to sit on and dangle your feet in the water; she comes here a lot.

Lo'ak approaches, but she doesn't notice. As he gets closer, he realizes why. She's crying.

He has never seen her cry, and he stops in his tracks. Y/N isn't a woman of many emotions. She smiles and laughs a lot, but she keeps her true self at a distance from everyone.

He knows why. He saw how she was treated, growing up, because of her difficulty with speech. He never understood why it mattered to anyone - he thought she was smart, talented, skilled and beautiful.

Lo'ak approaches slowly, but announces himself as he steps onto the branch.

"Y/N," he says.

With a gasp, she turns to him. She places her hand over her heart, indicating that he startled her.

"Sorry," he whispers, sitting next to her. "What's wrong, Y/N?"

She turns back to the water, her wet cheeks reflecting the moonlight.

"You can tell me. Anything, you can tell me."

To Lo'ak's surprise, she leans over, placing her head on his shoulder. Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around her waist. Even though he's concerned for her, he can't deny that he's thrilled to be holding her so intimately.

"Come. Come home, and we'll talk," Lo'ak says. "Away from anyone."

She nods, and takes his hand, allowing him to lead her the short walk to the alcove they have carved out of the side of home tree. Once inside, Lo'ak is relieved to see that she is no longer crying, but he still wants to know what happened.

"Did someone hurt you, Y/N?" he asks.

She shakes her head, and grabs his arms. She sinks to the floor, crossing her legs below her, and pulls him along. He sits in front of her, and her hands move from his arms, down over his elbows and forearms, and finally, they hold his own hands.

He grips tightly to her.

"You can tell me. Take your time."

She takes in a deep breath.

"I... went hunting," she says, in the slow cadence she usually adopts. "It was good." She stutters on the word good, stopping and starting a few times, until she finally gets it out. She takes another deep breath, and closes her eyes. "I brought the kill to the pits. Marek thanked me," she pauses her. Sometimes, Lo'ak has noticed, when she really gets into a story, the words come easier. Her cadence picks up, just slightly. "He said, I must like to spend time with animals. Because, they don't care... I can't talk."

As she finishes her story, tears pool in her eyes again, and she looks down, her face ashamed and embarrassed.

The rage that overtakes Lo'ak's entire body is powerful, unlike anything he's ever felt before. Childhood teasing is one thing, but Marek is a grown man, making fun of a woman - his woman - for providing for their clan.

Lo'ak sees two choices ahead of him. The first is to get up right there, find Marek, and beat him so badly that he himself never utters another word. Maybe he could grab Neteyam on the way, and make sure Marek never does anything again, at all.

Though he feels momentarily blinded by rage, he knows that's not what his future mate needs.

She needs him here, now.

"I will kill Marek later," Lo'ak says through a tense jaw, and a ghost of a smile crosses Y/N's face. "Your skills at the hunt are unmatched, Y/N. You provide for us all." He reaches down, touching the ornately woven rug below them. "You have woven beautiful rugs that nearly half the alcoves in home tree are adorned by. People see them, and think of you, gratefully. Kiri and Tuk tell everyone that it is you who so beautiful braids their hair for every dance and feast, and they've told me how jealous all the other women are of your talents. It is true, Y/N, that you speak differently from the rest of us. You do not speak worse. You speak differently. It is slower, and it is worth waiting and listening to. Everything you say holds meaning. Every word out of Marek's mouth is useless garbage, and it would be better if none of us ever had to hear him again."

He could go on, and on, all night if she needs - but she falls forward into his arms, crawling into his lap, heaving sobs into his chest.

Shocked, he wraps his arms around her, and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I will kill him tomorrow," Lo'ak whispers.

Taking deep breaths, Y/N looks up at him. "Not sad," she replies, and points to the tears on her face. "Happy. Feel lucky, to be your mate."

The rage in his chest subsides, replaced by an overwhelming wave of pride and love towards his amazing woman in his arms. He leans back against the wall, and she settles between his legs, resting on his chest.

Her breathing slows, in and out, and he thinks she may be drifting off. It is not lost on him, that this means she is comfortable with him, being vulnerable to him for the first time ever.

He stays awake half the night, just reveling in the feel of her laying on him, the soft sounds she makes in her sleep, the way she lays so still on him. He hopes it means she's comfortable.

He will kill Marek tomorrow, and hopefully every night after, they will sleep like this.