#thank you!!!! nonny!!!!!!

[revelmaven]

🍉?

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

yeehaw. strap the fuck in. tw for eating disorder

in short: way more than i was prepared for it to. writing fic has always been about two degrees of separation from just keeping a diary for me, and the more i love a character the more likely it is i'll end up using them as a proxy through which to tell a story from my own life that i feel needs to be told.

im currently In The Process of writing a fic that i keep (semi) fondly referring to as an exorcism. the purpose of Communion is twofold: one, to explore what it might look like to commune with the god of death, and what sort of rituals might be necessary to become close to someone whose domain is That; and two, speaking openly about my own eating disorder (and, in later chapters, my experiences with self harm).

this is not something i particularly Delight in talking about. despite my general shock value open-bookedness, actually telling people what happened to me (what i did to myself) in that time is... not something i'd prefer to do. i'm still ashamed of a lot of what happened. i still feel stupid for a lot of the decisions i made, and i feel like people knowing that's something i indulged in will not take me seriously. i'm convinced i should've known better. should've done better. for a long time i had no patience and no grace for my younger self.

i only told, i think, three people that it was happening while it was happening, and only a handful more after it ended - and Nobody got the full story at Any point in the timeline. there were some things i kept my in fucked up little heart of hearts and vowed to die with.

and then. i didn't die. and i still couldn't tell anyone the depth of it - it didn't feel fair to tell anybody the Truth after the fact, not all of it - so instead a not-quite-year of my life got filed away and i have simply tried to avoid its gaze ever since. and the longer it went secret, the more its self-imposed taboo strengthened, and so increased the shame of having done it at all. and that's. i definitely carried and harboured (less so now but still do) a lot of resentment for myself. it was a dumb decision i'd made in my youth, among a myriad of others.

of course, you get older and you hopefully get better - or in my case you don't. i returned my body ostensibly to rights and it immediately fell apart, this time in a way that's seeming to be permanent. i inherited god-knows-what's-syndrome from my mum, and it didn't hit me until my early 20s when it hit her (just over a year into my recovery), and now i live with chronic pain. forever. the body i worked so hard to repair betrayed me ultimately. and i had to decide very quickly if i was going to be angry for the rest of my life, keep pushing myself beyond what i knew was healthy, forcing myself to limits no one in my condition could meet and further (which is arguably definitely a factor in getting me into this mess) - or if i was going to take care of my body, and respect it, even though it could not be fixed.

enter ashton.

i started writing for critical role with a migraine fic about ash a few months after c3 started. before that i'd been writing sanders sides and got pretty much no attention, so i assumed this would continue, posted without a care, and off i went.

and then Softness blew up. and suddenly there was demand. people liked hearing my story. other disabled and chronically-ill people were in my messages talking about how it resonated with them and how they adored my writing style, how i captured the feeling.

and i thought, fuck it. i've got stuff to work through. let's throw it out there.

so i started writing about kingsley, too. i started writing about what it's like not knowing who you are, especially when people, even people you consider family, seem to like you better for who you used to be, or who you remind them of. i started writing about trying to work out who you are. i started writing about nightmares.

something else came up, and i wrote Lucky - because, and if i were to make a tl;dr this would be it - it's easier for me to confront the things i need to about myself when done behind the abstraction of a blorbo.

so naturally we came around to Communion. and i thought, what the hell. maybe it's time to get this out. i'm not angry at myself anymore. enough time has passed and i have put enough grit and spit and effort into being kind to myself that i have sympathy for that kid finally. i look back on what happened, and i would break the world apart to save her from it.

this one is a lot more personal than the others. it was easier - is easier - to write about ashton because the pain is my companion now, whether we like each other or not, and it's something i've grown to have grace for. it's easier to write about kingsley because i've worked out who i am, and the hurt from that is a distant memory. it is not so easy to write about vax, and go through this again, because unlike the others this is Not something i have spoken openly about, and it's Not something i've completely come to terms with. this Is the coming to terms. and while i'm learning to have patience and kindness for that experience, putting the gorey details out where it can be judged and scrutinized by complete strangers is still terrifying. i am still afraid no one will take me seriously. i'm afraid people will see this as nothing more than a story, that i'll have people demanding i slice more of myself off more frequently than i can, that i'll get criticism for it being unrealistic or stupid, that its significance will be downplayed or ignored - laying my trauma naked like that in front of an audience i don't know is both freeing in its anonymity and absolutely shattering when it goes wrong. i'm lucky. the reception for Communion has been amazing in the majority. and getting it out there, having said it - again, it's not that this was something that Dragged At My Soul, as such. but i do find that when i sit down to write a particularly uncensored memory out, when i get back up there is a space where something Used to be, and is not anymore. it feels better.

in all my works, i'm hoping that i can show a younger person like me that the worst thing that can happen to you can happen, and you can still go on and find a good life with great people. you can lose yourself entirely in bad decisions, or tragedy, or what have you - and you can still walk out of that a little while later and start again. that message is as much for me now as it is for anyone else.

thank you for asking <3

still taking requests from this ask list

[fairy-angel222]

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

His tie loosened from the fancy date you two were just on, first few buttons undone with his grip hard on the staring wheel. Veins prominent from the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

His eyes don’t leave the road when you begin to whimper and whine. Leaned back against the passenger seat as his hand traces up your thigh and your dress, pads of his fingers toying with your clit through the thin fabric of your panties.

You moaned softly, your own smaller hands reaching out to grab his wrist tightly when he skillfully slipped your panties to the side. Thick fingers dancing along your wet slit before settling on the tiny bud.

“Kento...”

Your back arched when he began rubbing small circles, your thighs twitching in need as your little noises of pleasure filled the dark vehicle. Your body jolting with each touch to the sensitive set of nerves.

Nanami only smiled to himself, barely sparing you a glance as he maneuvered each turn back to his home. “Hmm, yes darling?” The pace of his fingers only speeding up as your gasps and mewls increased in volume. Grinding your hips onto his hand when your head fell back against the seat.

“Nngh.. Kento,” You moaned, lips parting in soft pants. “Need.. n-need them inside.”

Nanami’s smile grew into a smirk. “Oh? Is my girl so greedy that she won’t take what i give her?” He teased, chuckling when you pushed his hand further down with a sound of agreement. “You want them inside you darling? Tell me how badly.”

“Really bad, want them in me really bad.”

He hummed, fingers trailing down further just as the car swerved to the right. Nanami taking the chance to slip two fingers into you with ease.

Your grip on his wrist tightened, letting out a string of short cries when he began fucking them into you. Curling them up sweetly into your g spot as you mewled his name loudly. Small tears welling in your eyes as your body trembled. Having already been so close to a prior orgasm.

“F-fuckk. Kento baby— ahh.” You couldn’t control the noises that slipped past your lips, eyes rolling back with ragged breaths as Nanami pressed into all the right places to drive you crazy. His thumb extending upwards to play with your still aching clit.

“You like that sweetheart?” Nanami cooed, shifting slightly in his seat as his cock strained in his pants. His fingers being put on auto mode as he focused on getting you home safely.

He knew your body like the back of his hand, pleasuring you came like second nature.

Especially with the way your glassy eyes rolled back beside him, crying out his name with a shaky moan as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. “O-oh god.. ‘m gonna cum.” You breathed, toes curling as your body’s sensitivity went up by a tenfold. Nanami’s every touch scorching your skin as you waited for his command.

“Go on sweetheart, cum for me.”

You crumbled.

Body shaking lightly as you messily coated his fingers in your slick. An assortment of sweet sounds bubbling in your throat as your pussy spasmed. Drenching him and his seat when you squirted with a cry.

“Good girl.”

You shivered when his fingers slipped out of you. Your eyes peeling open to see him pulling up into his driveway. Putting the car in park before he finally turned to you, pressing his lips to yours with a groan.

“How about you do that on my tongue next?”

[lxvvie]

Taking the whole "taller significant other taking a picture of their shorter lover mid-argument" meme and turning it around on Price.

Instead of that, you flood his texts with pictures of him mid-argument, smiling, in thought—just Price doing Pricey things that make his cheeks puff out, basically. Afterward, you proceed to send him pictures of rabbits, quokkas, squirrels, etc., with the chunkiest of cheeks and tell him that's what he looks like.

The disrespect of it all.

Now you're in the doghouse with Price because he does not look like that (he does) but you don't take it seriously because even with the stern look he gives you, his cheeks still puff out.

[frogchiro]

Hi! I love your blog! Your neighbor!Ghost AU is so good! How about neighbor!Nikolai? Imagine living next to that large Russian man who def loves to fluster the reader when he catches them in the hallway.

Oohhh my goood nonnie :((

Big big russian man who you almost always see with a cigarette handing from his smirking mouth as he greets you and looks you up and down and tells you a 'Good morning solnyshko~' in that thick russian accent and lazy drawl :((

Nikolai is very much a mystery to you. You basically never see him leave his apartment in the mornings when people usually leave for work and when he does it's either in the evening or late in the night and when that happens he's usually gone for a week or so. Sometimes weird men are going in and out of his apartment; big, mean looking men who are the epitome of shady looking but whenever you encounter them you just keep your head down and scuttle as quick as possible to your apartment without looking suspicious :(

You also saw him attend those poker nights hosted at Simon's apartment, some even hosted in his own home. He's always very open and welcoming and very loud, especially after downing a few glasses of whiskey or cheap beer.

Due to that, the fact that he's literally living next door and the walls are paper thin, whenever poker night is hosted in Nik's apartment you get to hear the loud voices of the men next door, sometimes hooting loudly, making very crude and inappropariate jokes that make your eyes widen and blush with how nasty they are ://

But, on the rare occasion, when you strain your ears well, you can hear them talking about you. Deep, low, growled manly voices of these huge men (particularly Nik and Si) talking about the pretty young thing next door, how much of a knock out you are, 'those nice soft tits and broad hips were fuckin' made for grabbing and squeezin' :((

Sometimes Nik in particular doesn't hold back and, much to the grunted displeasure of Simon, rumbles about making you into a nice, hot, younger housewife to come home to, always ready with a nice hearty meal and a wet pussy to fuck and spurt all his seed into :((

Nasty!!

[uc1wa]

college jason getting horny while listening to you talk about books 😵‍💫

18+ minors dni

having a smart girlfriend was hard.

having a girlfriend whose time was consumed with studying in the library, attending professor's office hours, reading books in bed, and spending all-nighters finishing essays was hard.

but having a girlfriend who made time for her sweet boyfriend, despite attempting to be at the top of her class, was harder.

jason didn't mean to, he swears his cock has a mind of its own when he's sat on your bed and you're at your desk. when you're telling him about the newest book you've begun reading. a romance novel with plenty of action to keep you on your toes—the types of novels that you knew jason loved. telling him about it as a recommendation.

but why did you have to look all pretty with help from the low-lit lamp beside you? hair thrown into a bun with a sweatshirt two sizes too big, holding the book with a grin tugging your cheeks as your eyes wandered—not paying attention to anything in specific as you told him a summary without revealing too much.

it should be a sin. it should be a sin for his girlfriend to be perfect in every aspect possible. because, do you see what you're doing to him? eyes roaming everywhere in the room, but somehow missing the tent that's raised in grey sweatpants worn by your boyfriend. missing the way jason's fists are clenched in some sort of self-control while his teeth are tugging his own lip and he swears a bead of sweat falls down his face.

and even when he's got you riding him all pretty, tits bouncing underneath the university crew you sported while being full of his length, it's still not enough. "'n... fuck princess, tell me 'bout the next book you're thinkin' of."

[coqvttes]

hey i love ur writing so much! can i request smt nsfw with konig please? :)

been thinking about könig with a total nymph for a girlfriend !

he’s always known your sex drive is high, but not this high. you just can’t help yourself when you climb onto his lap as he sits at his desk, flipping through paperwork. he looks stressed. being a colonel is hard work, and you're not making it any easier. he’s been working for what feels like an eternity, and he has no idea what’s got you so worked up. you just keep whining for him, and then you're grinding your sopping cunt all over his work trousers like you're in heat till he can’t concentrate anymore. your whimpers and moans as you move your hips back and forth onto his thighs are not helping either, and he feels his pants tighten. he tries his best to ignore you, wanting to get this work off his shoulders, but when you pull his cock out of his pants and start kissing his neck, he just can’t take it any longer. "what's got into you today?" he holds you up from under your thighs as he stands up suddenly, carrying you over to the bed. he plops you down and pushes your (his) shirt over your plump tits, and you mewl out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, finally giving you what you've been craving. "i can't work when you're distracting me like that, kleine maus." he growls while pounding into you, fucking your brains out.

[savannahsdeath]

This thought popped in my head and I need it!!!!

(only if you want to!)

Imagine reader and Ellie went out to the mall with there friends and the entireeee day Ellie was just thinking about bending reader over and doing her then and there because she was just looking so good with her little ponytail and skirt and the way she would pick up the cutest little clothes and ask Ellie if she thinks they would look good on her. Then when they get home Ellie just goes absolutely feral and fucks her with no remorse. :(((

I'm literally going feral over this thought

im not a shopping person but this? omg.

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! obv smut, strap (r!receiving)

writers note: i loved the idea sm i literally stopped writing my enemies to lovers fic just to write this one🫣sorry it took me so long to post it, i struggled with choosing what to post first !!

You were going out shopping with your girlfriend and some friends. Ellie isn't really an outgoing person, but when it's about you and shopping, she can't wait to see you in all the cute clothes she knows she will buy you. Of course she'll never admit it but you knew she enjoys it as much as you do.

As you make your way into the store, you can see her eyes light up at the sight of all the different styles of clothes. She takes the lead and starts pulling at all sorts of clothing to bring over for you to try on, eager to see you wearing all her favorite things.

The changing rooms had a lot of space inside, so she entered one with you, sitting down on the little bench. While you were taking your previous clothes off, she intensely stared at her phone. She couldn't stand seeing your bare skin and it would be hard for her to control herself otherwise, but you were clueless.

When you changed into a cute, feminine skirt and top, she finally turned her eyes in your direction. Her gaze was judging but not in a bad way - she looked you up and down before smirking.

"Spin." Ellie simply ordered and you obviously did so. You had no idea she told you to do that because of the way your pink underwear shows when the skirt rolls up in the air at your movement. She cleared her throat and nodded, trying to hide her thoughts. "Yeah, looks good."

You frowned at her lack of enthusiasm, not realizing she's actually boiling inside. You were so oblivious it was actually funny, even your friends knew damn well what was going on.

You tried the rest of the clothes Ellie picked for you, not getting the reaction you'd like to each time, but you couldn't blame her.

Oh, little did you know how much she just wants to bend you over and fuck with her strap, she obviously had on, just in case she won't be able to control herself.

After a few other shops and a whole bag of clothes, you came into one with small changing rooms and made Ellie wait outside. She was standing in front of the curtains, pretending to be unbothered, but the way she impatiently kept asking you 'ready?' every-fucking-second said otherwise.

"Wait, wait, the zipper won't close!" You said, trying to lock a pretty, formal, red dress you knew you'll wear like one time - for Christmas or something.

She rolled her eyes and came in, standing so close behind you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans. She zipped it without struggle, placing her head on your shoulder as she looked at the mirror in front of you both. Her hands were sliding up and down your sides as she kissed your neck.

"You look fucking amazing." She whispered and smiled, seeming almost proud of your appearance.

"Is it worth buying, though?" You asked, turning in all directions to see it from every angle. "It will just collect dust in the closet for the whole year until I decide it's time to..."

She laughed, cutting you off. "Jesus, hush. I can afford it... Oh, and trust me, I'll make you wear it."

You finally fully turned around, cupping Ellie's face in your hands and kissing her for only a few seconds. "You spend too much money on me."

"Are you complaining?" She chuckled with a smug look on her face as you stayed silent. "That's what I thought."

After running around the shops for the whole day, you all met in a restaurant. Ellie was sitting in her usual men-spread position and you placed yourself between her legs, not really caring it may be weird. Her hands rested awfully near the hem of your skirt, wrapped around your waist. Sometimes when you were grinding too much, she'd just tug on it to warn you, so no one would notice your behaviour.

Sometimes, when your little movements didn't stop, she'd whisper something in your ear in almost threatening way, even though you wasn't really teasing her intentionally.

On your way home, she was walking faster than usually. You couldn't even call it walking together, she was just pushing you forward.

You tried to slow down or build a conversation but miserably failed every time.

As soon as she brought you back to your shared apartament, she closed the door and immediately started kissing your neck, slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You quickly understood why she acted so weird before. "Oh, Ellie, so you just wanted that the whole day?" You chuckled as she nuzzled into your skin. "And you kept silent instead of telling me?"

She dropped the bag of clothes as soon as you entered the bedroom, your teasing words clearly pissing her off even more than having to watch you in all those cute little skirts back in the shop.

"What the fuck was the whole dinner scene for?" She asked, frustrated, hurriedly undressing you. "Can't sit still? Seriously?"

You laughed, even though you knew what waits for you isn't so funny.

She wasn't teasing your cunt for too long before filling it with her cock, waiting for the right moment to catch you off-guard. It worked as well as she expected to, you moaned and your eyes quickly turned glossy as your thighs clenched.

She kept going for so long, you didn't bother to hold back your tears anymore. Your hips were sore from the way she held them, knowing she won't be able to hit the right spot if you'll move. Your hair started to stick together from the sweat and tears mixed together, making the pillow uncomfortably wet. Your god-knows-which orgasm approached but you weren't able to say anything about it to Ellie as you lost the ability to speak like a thousand thrusts ago. You couldn't decide whether it's a good or bad feeling. Yes, you loved the feeling of her deep inside you to the point you can actually see her in your stomach. But no, you didn't feel strong enough to keep going. Ellie seemed to notice that.

"If you want to stop, just tell me." She said in the most taunting tone she could.

She knew you're not able to 'just tell her'. She noticed the only thing coming from your mouth are moans, occasionally maybe her name, but really rarely.

She reached to wipe your tears away. "Now, that's just adorable. And a little pathetic. Should I slow down, huh? Should I?"

You nodded, realizing your vision isn't actually black, you were just desperately squeezing your eyes shut like it'd make you feel any better. You looked up at her with your teary eyes, still imploringly moving your head up and down.

"What does that even mean? Just speak up!" She laughed.

Your eyes closed again, as your release came. Your mind went blank, just like everything else - your vision, feeling and other senses.

Did you pass out?

It all came back after a few seconds, when Ellie finally stopped and leaned in to kiss you, what woke you up like Sleeping Beauty.

"Oh, sorry babe. Got carried away. I bet you can't really blame me, though." She winked as she started going down on you again.

"Els- what are you...?" You managed to say, stopping to take a breath after each word.

"Gotta clean you up." She smirked and you could already feel her tongue on your clit.

It felt so sensitive, so new, you cried out and your thighs tensed, but didn't close as Ellie held onto them. She was so strong compared to your weakness now, they didn't move a millimeter.

"I'll be fast, this time." She reassured you, as your body squirmed, hoping to get away.

But oh, how much you actually wanted to stay like that. The sensitiveness made you feel the texture of her tongue so precisely, you hoped to still remember it tomorrow...

[mammon-s]

mammon with a reader who gets embarrassed asking to have sex so she’s all clingy around him with puppy dog eyes but she can’t quite get the words out

This would be so cute pleaseeee

Like you’re watching a movie or something and you start to get horny and just cuddle up next to Mams clinging on to his arm and looking up at him with big puppy eyes.

He probably wouldn’t get the hint at first until he pulls you into his lap and you start to softly grind down on him then he’s like “oh!”

Once he gets what you’re doing he’d probably tease you so bad like “what’s wrong my pretty little treasure you need something?” Trying to get you to actually say it before pinning you down on the couch and fucking you.

[mutantmayhems]

I like your vibe!

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES: MUTANT MAYHEM (2023) requested by anonymous

[fcthots]

Heyy! i hope you're having a wonderful day today let's start with that! <3 Soo I know many people find the Jason Todd friends with benefits au hot but personally...I CAN'T. My softy self will cry of jealousy so hard because of the no strings attached thingy. I couldn’t help imagine reader and Jason in that situation (hope this is understandable its my first ask and im still working on my english!) Love your writings and please don't feel pressured to write if you're not feeling up to it!

no bc i have been thinking about this and IEDJFHNEIJF i have opinions. There is only ONE (1) correct way to do fwb w jason and it is ANGST.

You're both hopelessly in love with each other. You both know it, but you can't be everything you want to be. You can't have the one thing you want most, but this will just have to be enough.

His eyes always linger on you. No matter what you're doing. It's like he gets drunk on just watching you move. He'll sit on your couch after he swore he'd stop coming over. He watches you wash dishes and wipe down the counters. He twitches every time you move as if he wants to stop you, as if he wants to do it for or with you, anything for you to not do it by yourself, but he doesn't get up, only watches. Watches you like you're a deity and he is your most devout follower. Watches you with so much adoration that you swear he's in love with you, but he'll be gone before you wake up, and you'll fall asleep to him saying "we can't do this again," but he'll come back. He'd come back in a hurricane, tornado, earthquake, anything to see your face. You swear he's in love with you, but then he'll say he doesn't want to see you again, even if you know he'll come back. You tell yourself that wanting and needing are different things. He doesn't want to need you. You try and tell yourself he loves you, but he makes sure to tell you he doesn't.

You take him back every time. You take him back like he didn't leave you in the middle of the night. Take him back like he didn't say that it was the last time. You take him back like you actually want him. He'll let himself believe it, because he wants you so bad, but he can never let you know that. He needs you like a drowning man needs air, but he cannot have you. He cannot keep you, but how is he supposed to tell you that? Sometimes when he slips in through your window soaked with rainwater and you wrap his towel snug around his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair, and he swears you love him too, but it's better if you don't so he lets himself believe it. He lets himself believe you don't love him the way he loves you, so he can pretend he isn't killing you when he leaves before dawn. He knows he has to leave. He has to keep you safe. Safe from the world. Safe from him. He'll only break your heart if you let him keep it, but he breaks it every time he puts it down to leave.

He's in love with you, but protecting you comes first even if it only hurts you both more. You will take anything he'll give you. You undo each other. You lay yourselves bare for only the other person to see. It only hurts you, but you can't stop. You can't stop because it's too much, but not enough. It is all you have and ruining what you have. You hate each other for it. You love each other. You scream his name every night. Sometimes he draws it out of you, and other nights you scream it into the sky with tears in your eyes. You will never forgive each other. There is nothing to forgive. The poison tastes sweet when it comes from your lover's hand.

[l3viat8an]

Satan: MC why do you spend so much time in Levi’s room?

MC: I’m easily entertained by small things! (smiling innocently)

(all the brothers trying not to laugh and looking at Levi who’s bright red and running from the room.)

MC:…..what?….did I say something wrong?

(a few days later)

MC:(standing outside of Levi’s bedroom door) Levi I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it like that!!!

Levi:(definitely not sobbing in his locked room) But it sounded like that!!! 

(Totally not inspired by something I did to my poor boyfriend at a family dinner a few days ago) 

Helspshksjsjsjw oh, poor, poor Levi- the others are never gonna let him hear the end of that!!

[flowercrowngods]

for prompt tag!

28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)

but also take your time 🫡🫂

in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours

When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 

Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 

The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.

God, where did Steve even unbury that? 

And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 

Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 

In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 

“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 

He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 

They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.

“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 

“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."

Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 

“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 

“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”

Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 

“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 

“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 

“Good?” 

Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 

“And you have a fever.” 

“Hmm. Still.” 

It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 

“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 

“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.

Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 

“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 

Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 

“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”

Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  

hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶

[chrollohearttags]

With AOTs last episode… Imagine if rumors spread that musician!Eren and Mikasa had something going on in the past. Then reader gets wind of it and they breakup!! I couldn’t imagine what was going through Eren’s head when the media hears about this shit!!!!!

ayooo! I swear, y’all are geniuses fr. I was thinking of something like this. And here I was needing a little drama (I’ll definitely have to do this as a full fic in the future but I gotta talk about thisss sksksjs!!)

content + themes: infidelity(?), angsty vibes, lots of drama, mentions of sex, alcohol mentions

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

“Let’s get into this tea, honey. Cause it’s HOT! So boom, (influencer name) this girl right here..is engaged to this man, EJ The Don. This lady here is Mikasa Ackerman, or formerly known as MikaASH. Who is also the manager for both of them. Welllll, girl. Allegedly, she was over here hunching on Mr. EJ behind Miss (y/n)’s back! Mind you, miss girl got a whole HUSBAND herself—“

“Y’all already know what we’re gonna talk about so just buckle in. I could not believe this when I heard it. So word is going around that EJ the Don, Mr. Underground God, the Living Dead Boy..whatever the fuck his name is has been cheating on his girl. And if you don’t know who she is, this is (y/n) (l/n), leader of the Pole Assassins. Gorgeous, gorgeous woman..but this asshole decided to not only fuck around on her but with their manager nonetheless!—“

it was inescapable..every other scroll through TikTok’s feed was some person with a pair of earbuds, speaking over the static wafting through the microphone as they stood before and floated in front of a green screen..pictures and articles of the story plastered behind them. What was the latest topic of discussion and juiciest gossip for the masses; a sure fire way to get themselves circulating in the algorithm was your sad reality. A reality that you wish was all made up.

two people you loved and cared for deeply betraying you in an indescribable way. The woman who’d all but given you your start in this industry. Acting as that of a sister rather than a manager as she helped you navigate fame. And the man..you loved more than life itself. Who showed you what it meant to be happy for the first time in your life. Sleeping together behind your back…you had never felt pain quite like this. There were physical pangs in your chest, your stomach in knots and all of the air feeling as if they had dissipated from your lungs. At that moment, you wanted to disappear into nothing..fade away and never be seen again. But life went on!..you had obligations, business affairs, everything you’d work so hard to achieve. Meanwhile, your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Missed calls and texts from them both, constantly sounding off back to back because lord knows if you answered, you’d only end up saying or doing something you’d regret. Much like you had hours ago when you stormed out of you and Eren’s home, bags packed with him running after you..tears in his eyes and the promise that nothing had ever happened. But there was proof. Pictures of them all over each other; Mikasa sporting her leather clad, skimpy attire she would wear on stage and him happily grabbing her hips as she bent over. It made you sick to your stomach. Physically ill even..it was too much for you to bare. Apologies, no matter how frequently and loud they were, would never absolve that hurt. The thought of them touching, kissing and doing god knows what behind your back..in your bed!

“Please (y/n)! I know what this seems like but that was from years ago. We were drunk, probably even high. Somebody took those of us, thinking they had something they could sell off to TMZ but you’ve gotta believe me when I tell you..nothing ever happened. I would never come between what you and Eren have—“

“Girl, please. Spare me the tears. If you wanna fuck him, he’s all yours. I’ll be damned if I ever compete for my spot. You got it.”

as much as you were trying to wear the brave face, you were torn apart and seeing her in full blown hysterics, trying to plead their case. But you were having none of it. As for Eren, he was in no better shape. He was devastated..heartbroken. More so than anyone could imagine. He wasn’t even going to bother heading to social media to clear his name as other accused cheaters had done so in the past. Rather, he downed the various bottles of liquor, stowed away in the studio’s cabinets. Angry and frustrated. More so importantly confused.

“Aren’t you going to go get her back, Mr. Jaeger? She can’t possibly believe that’s true. You guys would never..”

“Well she does and when she gets her mind set on something, there’s no changing it…”

how in the hell had a rumor like this started anyway?! Who was so bored as to drudge up old photos and post them, claiming that they had slept together. And most of all?….

how could he face you again..not knowing if it was true himself?

[rileyslibrary]

can you maybe do something where like, things simon does when he realizes he’s falling for you? :,)

Let me start by saying that I see Simon as someone more accustomed to others falling for him than the other way around. Like, he is the one who tends to be pursued rather than being the pursuer, if you know what I mean? I don’t know why but I feel he doesn’t have to put too much effort into wooing someone (and he probably knows that). A tall, beefy dude with a rugged appearance and that voice of his? The guy has it easy.

Now, what if he’s the one who falls for someone first? Aha! Well, He doesn’t even realise he has feelings for you, but they manifest in other ways, mainly through actions.

Ghost, as your lieutenant, for example, starts assigning you to low-risk missions or insists on accompanying you to ensure you’re safe.

In a more personal context, Simon offers to pick you up from your home so you don’t have to walk or take public transportation. He might even escort you to your car at night to protect you.

He tells you jokes he thinks you’d enjoy. He absolutely loves it when you laugh; he feels defeated when you roll your eyes and even a bit salty when you already know the joke (or fail to “get” it.)

He pays close attention to the details. He remembers your favourite food, how you like your coffee/tea, and your pet’s name. No, he won’t cook for you (yet), but he’s taking mental notes, studying you.

However, he’s not aware of what he’s doing exactly (or why he’s doing it, for that matter). It’s not until the rest of the team notices and insinuates that there’s something more between you two that he comes face to face with his emotions. Emotions he’s not ready to accept yet.

He rejects the idea that he has developed feelings for you and hopes that by suppressing ignoring them, they’ll fade away. But, as my boy Freud once said, “unexpressed emotions never die; they are buried alive and come forth later in uglier ways.”

He begins distancing himself from you. He rebuilds the walls you once torn down and returns to treating you just like everyone else. He had people he loved before, and it’s only brought him pain. His past experiences have left deep scars, and he’s determined not to go through that again. He’s not just doing it just for himself, though; he also wants to protect you from him and the pain.

Him. Pain. What’s the difference?

You, on the other hand, pick up on his behaviour but don’t confront him about it. “You know how the lieutenant is,” they once told you. “Sometimes he’s all jokes, other times he’s just business.” Maybe, you think, he needs his space. So you begin mirroring his actions, pulling away and giving what he seemingly wants.

But he secretly doesn’t want you to do that. Contrary to what he hoped to achieve by distancing himself from you and, therefore, from his feelings for you, he falls even harder.

Once cocky and arrogant, now he’s insecure. He starts projecting his fears onto you, feeling that you’re the one pulling away, even though you’re merely respecting his unspoken need for space.

So he confronts you. He wants an explanation for the change in your demeanour. And you? Well, you tell him the truth; you thought he needed some space. Right?

Who knows. Maybe you were just respectful. Perhaps you were giving him a taste of his own medicine.

It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he gets it now. Running away from his feelings or those he cares about doesn’t work, just like ignoring his emotions won’t make them disappear. On the contrary, they directly affect both him and you.

Of course, he doesn’t admit it. No, he wouldn’t be caught dead doing that.

Yet, he decides to (re)open up to you, this time gradually, bit by bit, at his own pace. Just for a chance that this calculated, ruthless operator that many perceive him to be can finally transform into a genuinely emotionally invested human being for the first time.

[nina-ya]

Virgin! Law who loves grinding on you during steamy make out session with

!!!!Yes yes yes a thousand times yes!!!

Steamy make out sessions where you feel his hardened cock poking at you through his jeans as he rolls his hips into yours. The hisses and small groans he lets out when you move your own hips a certain way is just music to your ears.

Steamy make out sessions like these where he accidentally leaves teeth marks on your neck and because his mouth was practically clamped down on it the entire time as he rutted against you, feeling the urge to just take you right then and there.

Don’t use your hand to tease him during these sessions unless you want him to cum in his pants. Rub him through his pants, palm his tip through the denim, and watch as he falls apart right under you, shuddering as he unconsciously moves faster and harder against your touch, dampening the fabric with his seed.

[uc1wa]

if ur asking for kinktober requests... dick grayson or roy harper... maybe playing with some ropes... maybe a little hate... maybe overstimulation... maybe edging... idk just throwing out ideas im feening

-🎀

dick hated when he had to be the bad guy. he hated when you’d run your mouth and be a brat, because that was just proof that you couldn’t be the good girl he knew you could be. he’s seen you on your best behavior before, so why couldn’t you just stay that way?

maybe if you could hold the title of his good girl, you wouldn’t have a rope that’s tied your hands on either side of the bed posts. maybe if you didn’t run your mouth at dinner, you wouldn’t have your own cum dripping out of your swollen cunt from fingers alone. maybe if you apologized instead of being a brat, throwing around words you didn’t mean when you got home, dick wouldn’t be sat on his knees between your legs, nasty smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you squirm with flushed cheeks.

brat taming was something dick didn’t know he had the ability to do, that is, until he met you. the man was used to women falling under his every word without a complaint or say so. that’s how it always has been. he didn’t know women had the ability to have the mouth that you did.

"two words, princess," his voice was rough and mean. have you never heard of an apology before? apparently not by the way you shake your head and refuse to meet his eye, groaning out something instead.

dick’s cock was becoming excruciatingly hard, and his own strokes of his hand weren’t cutting it. he wasn’t going to fuck you until you apologized, half-promised that to himself when he’d opened the door to his home. but, he had his own needs too.

his hands sit on either side of your torso, knees underneath your thighs as he teasingly brings his length to rub against your folds and clit. never pushing inside, but pushing himself past your entrance with help of your wet slick.

overstimulated and fucked out, you whimper and whine underneath the man. unknowing if you want his cock to fill you up or if you want nothing to do with him at all. your body can’t decide when you attempt to writhe away from him, but your pussy flutters while doing so.

"two words, fucking slut," he reminds, hot breath fanning your face. he lowers his head, pressing a rough kiss to your cheek in which you attempt to move away from. "c’mon, be my good girl. y’know i don’t like being mean to you baby."

the sweetness of his words almost make your guard fall, wanting to turn and lock your lips with his. but you don’t. instead turning your head to scrunch your brows at him and pull your lips back. "’m a good girl, you’re just dumb," you say, words ending in a whine at the feeling of dick’s tip pushing against your clit.

dick’s teeth find their way into your neck, sucking a dark purple hickey and then pulling back with his cock in hand. his eyes never leave yours as he pumps himself a few more times.

and then his tip reaches you again, only this time he pushes only the beginning of his length inside of you as you squirm and moan below him. he thinks it’s cute, the way you’re helpless until you say the two words he wants you to say.

"wanna be a slut?" he questions, letting only his tip fill your entrance. his eyes move down to watch the way your cunt’s reacting, attempting to suck it inwards despite your nasty words.

with one fluid and fast motion, he bottoms out in you. the entirety of his length filling you up and kissing the sweet spot inside of you. dick doesn’t care for the moans or whines you give. doesn’t care that your hands are balled into fists and pulling on the rope he tied tight.

"i’ll fuck you like a slut then."