#this probably doesn’t make sense without context

[ao3screenshotss]

[ilyuu-archive]

the TRUST ISSUES ARE HIGH RN I CAN’T 😭😭

[catboybiologist]

“As a biologist, the terms biological woman and man don’t make any sense to me” okay then you’re an idiot and a terrible biologist. I swear to god, morons like you only become biologists just so you can hold it over others, when in reality, if biology deniers like you can become biologists, then being one really doesn’t mean much anyway. But this probably just gave an autogynophile like you a boner to read, anyway.

Oh fun! Haven't gotten one of these in a while. Disregarding the fact that you somehow think the qualification for being a biologist entirely hinges on defining womanhood, I do need to ask some clarification. I know I'm feeding the trolls here, but here we go: does your definition of "biological woman" mean:

Sociological woman? Eh, context dependent, I'm not fully out of the closet, but oftentimes, I am and present femme. So let's call that one 50/50.

Psychological woman? Because I am one.

Neurological woman? Because I am one [1].

Physical woman? My soft tissue redistribution is handling that well.

Hormonal woman? My blood tests are within cis female ranges.

Transcriptional woman? As a signalling molecule, the downstream effects of estrogen have broad transcriptional effects, completely changing the profile of gene expression and functional genomics of my cells. [2]

Genetic woman? I mean, see my above point- as far as my genes that are actually active, I have all of the same transcripts being produced, controlling which genes are expressed.

Karyotypic woman? I actually have a few signs pre-HRT that might point to a non-XY chromosome pair, but I haven't had a karyotype. We'll put that down as unknown. And hell, even if its XY, there's plenty of cis women who are karyotypically XY, with suppressed sry or complete androgen insensitivity. Interestingly enough, a completely androgen insesitive woman can go her whole life without knowing- and functionally, is very similar to a trans woman, actually. Fancy that. [3]

Reproductive woman? I can't produce an egg cell, but neither can significant fractions of cis women. Also, this is all gonna change soon, which is fun. [4]

There's also a lot of understudied aspects to the biology of HRT and even pre-HRT that are emerging, largely demonstrating widespread cellular and genetic remodeling of trans individuals undergoing hormone therapy. The field is a bit behind due to constant political pressure to revoke funding, but a lot of the results are extremely exciting in both testosterone and estrogen hormone therapies. I'm sure that, as a self professed biology As someone who presumably has a lot of expertise in biology, I'm assuming that you're aware of all of this cutting edge research, and are keeping up with modern papers, including but not limited to these cool findings:

Trans men on HRT exhibit significant genetic and transcriptional changes that make them biochemically male. [5][6]. It's a good hypothesis that the same happens with estrogen treatment, but those studies don't exist yet- I'm sure you're reserving judgment until more publications exist, of course.

Trans men on HRT develop male cell types and tissues. [7]

Trans women experience muscular and blood cell changes that align with cis women moreso than cis men [8]

And many, many more! This is an exciting, underserved, and groundbreaking field of research, and I'm sure you're keeping up with the latest in scientific journals about it.

I'm sure, of course, that you understand that it becomes impossible to draw a distinct line anywhere in here, and that words like "woman" are shorthand for the myriad of traits that invisibly synthesize in our mind and in society to represent a concept? I'm sure you understand that science is fundamentally descriptive, not prescriptive? I'm sure that you understand that these findings, while really cool and interesting, actually don't mean jack shit about what the word "woman" means or not?

As someone who is the ultimate decider in what a biologist is, I'm sure you know that bioessentiallism is a childish mindset that completely ignores and disregards the constantly changing, dynamic nature of biological systems, something that extends well beyond biological sex and its relation to gender.

I'm sure that also, that you understand that beyond just this, that the role of science in society is to advise how to achieve our moral principles, not create moral principles in themselves. And I'm sure that understanding means you know that trans affirming healthcare and supportive societal treatment leads to reduced mortality and increased happiness for everyone, right?

So great to talk to someone who is surely a scientist on this. You are a biologist, if you're talking like this, I assume? I assume you're not going to spit complete misreadings of scientific language from the background sections of these papers that only reveal you've never read a scientific paper in your life if you're thinking this way? I assume you have experience interpreting data like this?

Also, imagining my genitalia while writing this? Ew. Please stop projecting your fetishes into my inbox.

Works cited:

Kurth F, Gaser C, Sánchez FJ, Luders E. Brain Sex in Transgender Women Is Shifted towards Gender Identity. J Clin Med. 2022 Mar 13;11(6):1582. doi: 10.3390/jcm11061582. PMID: 35329908; PMCID: PMC8955456.

Fuentes N, Silveyra P. Estrogen receptor signaling mechanisms. Adv Protein Chem Struct Biol. 2019;116:135-170. doi: 10.1016/bs.apcsb.2019.01.001. Epub 2019 Feb 4. PMID: 31036290; PMCID: PMC6533072.

Gottlieb B, Trifiro MA. Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome. 1999 Mar 24 [Updated 2017 May 11]. In: Adam MP, Feldman J, Mirzaa GM, et al., editors. GeneReviews® [Internet]. Seattle (WA): University of Washington, Seattle; 1993-2024. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK1429/

Murakami, K., Hamazaki, N., Hamada, N. et al. Generation of functional oocytes from male mice in vitro. Nature 615, 900–906 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-023-05834-x

Pallotti F, Senofonte G, Konstantinidou F, Di Chiano S, Faja F, Rizzo F, Cargnelutti F, Krausz C, Paoli D, Lenzi A, Stuppia L, Gatta V, Lombardo F. Epigenetic Effects of Gender-Affirming Hormone Treatment: A Pilot Study of the ESR2 Promoter's Methylation in AFAB People. Biomedicines. 2022 Feb 16;10(2):459. doi: 10.3390/biomedicines10020459. PMID: 35203670; PMCID: PMC8962414.

Florian Raths, Mehran Karimzadeh, Nathan Ing, Andrew Martinez, Yoona Yang, Ying Qu, Tian-Yu Lee, Brianna Mulligan, Suzanne Devkota, Wayne T. Tilley, Theresa E. Hickey, Bo Wang, Armando E. Giuliano, Shikha Bose, Hani Goodarzi, Edward C. Ray, Xiaojiang Cui, Simon R.V. Knott, The molecular consequences of androgen activity in the human breast, Cell Genomics, Volume 3, Issue 3, 2023, 100272, ISSN 2666-979X, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.xgen.2023.100272. (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2666979X23000320)

Xu R, Diamond DA, Borer JG, Estrada C, Yu R, Anderson WJ, Vargas SO. Prostatic metaplasia of the vagina in transmasculine individuals. World J Urol. 2022 Mar;40(3):849-855. doi: 10.1007/s00345-021-03907-y. Epub 2022 Jan 16. PMID: 35034167.

Harper J, O'Donnell E, Sorouri Khorashad B, McDermott H, Witcomb GL. How does hormone transition in transgender women change body composition, muscle strength and haemoglobin? Systematic review with a focus on the implications for sport participation. Br J Sports Med. 2021 Aug;55(15):865-872. doi: 10.1136/bjsports-2020-103106. Epub 2021 Mar 1. PMID: 33648944; PMCID: PMC8311086.

[placid-styles]

just saw the worst post i’ve ever seen in my life about roman and i can’t even be like whatever i don’t agree bc it’s hardly an interpretation it’s just true 😭 jesse armstrong i can’t keep living like this please

[crmsndragonwngss]

These are the people who take control of butterflies

These are the people who can make the sheer insignificance

Of a wing flapping turn the whole world upside down

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 6

Love Drunk

prompt: dizzy, drunken confessions | wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: alcohol | tags: platonic stobin, steve has a crush on eddie, pining, jealousy, love confessions, friends to lovers | also on ao3

  "Steeeve, I really don’t think this is a good idea.“ Robin grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt to hold him back.

   "Oh, but it is a great idea, actually! The best idea I ever had!“

Steve has to concentrate hard not to trip over his tongue, to pronounce each word clearly.

He’s drunk. Like, really drunk. Drunk as in - the floor’s moving like he’s standing on a boat rocking on the shore and the world around him is turning too fast.

He knows he’s had too much but that doesn’t keep him from downing another shot.

Steve needs it, needs the courage. Because he has a plan.

   "You’re gonna regret it, Steve. And then I’ll have to listen to you whine and complain and you’re gonna blame me for not holding you back! I can’t let you do this.“

    My sweet Robin.

He’ll thank her later for this. For trying to talk some sense into him. She’s his best friend in the world. And usually, he knows he’s always better off listening to her advice. Because Robin is smart as hell. He’s lucky to have her. She loves him, always has his best interest at heart.

Steve turns around to look at her, can’t fight the urge to boop her on the nose.

   “You’re cute,” he says completely out of context and while he can see the confusion on her blurry face, she still laughs at the notion.

   “Well, you’re not,” she says and Steve pouts.

   “Don’t you love me anymooore?”

    God, Steve sounds like a kid even to his own ears. How pathetic.

He’s always been an emotional drunk.

That’s probably why, when he caught sight of Eddie laughing at something this- this random guy standing too close to him must’ve said, Steve suddenly felt like someone had pulled the rug right from under his feet.

   “You know I do. That’s why I’m telling you not to do anything stupid.” Robin says sternly, seemingly unimpressed by the emotional turmoil raging in his mind.

The thing is, technically, he knows she’s right. Sober Steve would listen to Robin without hesitation. Would let her take him home and comfort him while he pours his heart out to her.

But Drunk Steve?

Drunk Steve is as bold as he is stupid.

Drunk Steve has a mind of his own, steered by a heart that is too loud for any sensible thoughts to come through.

He can’t stop himself from staring, from watching Eddie through the open kitchen door that leads to the other room, where the music is loud and everyone’s having a great time.

Everyone, including Eddie and random guy, who’s touching Eddie’s arm, smiling and batting his lashes at him. He’s flirting with Eddie, undoubtedly. And Eddie clearly doesn’t mind, going by the way he keeps moving closer to the other guy, holding his gaze, reciprocating his touch.

That’s just-

Not okay.

He needs to do something.

Like, right now.

   “’m jus’ gonna talk to him,” Steve announces to Robin without looking at her.

She sighs, and he knows Robin has accepted her defeat when she finally lets go of his arm.

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He barely catches her last words before making his way over to where Eddie and Rando are standing, careful not to stumble because the floor is uneven. Or maybe there’s something wrong with his feet? Who knows. Doesn’t matter, he’s on a mission.

Slowly and on wobbly legs, he makes his way through the spinning party crowd until he finally reaches his destination.

As if he can sense his presence, Eddie turns around immediately, while the guy next to him is throwing metaphorical daggers at Steve for interrupting their conversation.

   “Steve? Are you okay?” Eddie sounds concerned for some reason but Steve can’t find it in him to question it, not when Eddie holds out a hand and touches his shoulder.

Not when the hand on his arm feels so nice. And keeps him steady. Keeps his body from swaying.

    Why is the floor moving so much?

   “Do you need to sit down?”

Before Steve can wonder why Eddie would ask him that, he’s losing his balance, feels his knees give out and then all of a sudden, everything goes dark.

   “There you are.”

Steve blinks his eyes open, tries to focus his vision on the figure looming above him.

There’s something cold and damp on his forehead and a warm hand caressing his cheek.

   “Wha’ happened?” Steve’s voice is hoarse and his mouth is dry and there’s a nasty aftertaste of tequila on his tongue.

    Ugh.

Steve tries to push himself up from where he’s lying on... a bed? But he fails, feels dizzy, and slumps right back down.

   “Careful, Stevie. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

It is only now Steve realises who is talking to him. Who is sitting beside him at the edge of the bed with a hand pressed to the washcloth on his forehead to keep it in place.

   “Eddie?”

    Oh fuck.

Robin will never let him live that down.

   “The one and only,” Eddie smiles and although Steve feels like absolute shit, he can’t help but return the gesture.

   “Where are we?”

The room is only dimly lit by a bedside lamp, with the door closed and the curtains pulled shut. Steve can hear the music coming from the party still going on downstairs.

   “Linda allowed me to take you to her room after that little stunt you pulled.”

Eddie must sense his confusion because before Steve can ask what he means, he continues.

   “You blacked out. Kinda fell right into my arms,” he chuckles. “I caught you before you went down and brought you up here. I asked Jeremy to find Robin and tell her what happened but I guess he... was a bit mad at me for leaving.”

    Oh god.

Steve remembers now.

Jeremy must be the guy Eddie was talking to.

He can’t blame him for being pissed, though he’s probably not mad at Eddie but rather at Steve for interrupting their little- whatever it was.

   “Sorry for ruining your date,” Steve says quietly, shame creeping up inside.

It’s what he wanted, isn’t it? That was his plan.

Not to faint! But to disrupt whatever flirting game random guy, Jeremy, thought he had going on. But now that he’s slowly coming to his senses, he can’t help but to feel guilty for it.

   “Ah, it’s fine. He’ll live.”

Eddie grins, doesn’t sound mad at all which is good but the fact that he didn’t deny that it was, in fact, a date, makes Steve’s stomach turn into knots.

Because while he’s definitely still drunk, Sober Steve is slowly trying to force his way into his conscious, crawling through the fog still clinging to his mind. And with that comes the realisation of how stupid his plan was.

If he hadn’t blacked out, he would’ve told Eddie that he-

    Godfuckingdamn, this would’ve ended in a catastrophe.

Eddie doesn’t like Steve like that. They’re friends, nothing more.

And Steve would’ve ruined it all.

He knows he can’t keep his tongue in check when it’s loose from alcohol and still, consciously made the decision to go over the limit anyway.

How could he be so stupid? So recklessly putting their friendship on the line for- what? A rejection?

Steve should’ve listened to Robin. She tried to warn him, tried to save him from embarrassing himself but of course, he didn’t listen.

Now Eddie is sitting here next to him in depressing silence instead of being with-

   “You should go looking for him.”

   “For who?”

   “Jeremy? I’m fine now. Thanks for looking after me.”

Eddie’s hand slips away from Steve’s forehead and there’s a change in his expression that Steve doesn’t know how to read. He looks... disappointed? Kind of hurt in a way, and Steve doesn’t know why.

   “I’ll go looking for Robin and ask her to take me home. Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time than I already have.”

The words feel like acid on his tongue because they’re lies. He’d want nothing more than to stay here with Eddie a little while longer. Hell, he’d spend the whole night alone with Eddie if he could.

But he can’t because it wouldn’t be fair to keep Eddie to himself when he could be out there having a good time.

Doesn’t matter that it hurts like a bitch to imagine Eddie going home with that guy at the end of the night.

To imagine someone else’s hands on his body, someone else’s lips on his mouth.

To imagine someone else getting to have all these things Steve would die for.

   “You’re not wasting my time, Steve. Never. I love spending time with you.”

Eddie smiles again, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and it’s way too much for Steve’s weak little heart to handle.

   “You can’t say things like that, Eds.” Steve says because he needs Eddie to stop making his heart flutter.

   “Why not?”

   “Because I might take advantage of it.”

    What the fuck? Shut your mouth before you say something even more stupid.

Steve finally manages to sit up, head still feeling heavy but at least the wooziness is gone.

With his new seating position, Eddie is suddenly so much closer than before.

They’re sitting next to each other, arms and legs touching, and Steve has to force himself not to lean into the warmth radiating off Eddie’s body.

   “I wouldn’t mind.” Eddie says while he fumbles with his rings, eyes focused on his own hands.

It’s like he purposely avoids looking at Steve.

   “Oh, you would,” Steve insists. “Because I’d want too much.”

Eddie looks back up, tilts his head to the side.

   “What do you mean?”

Steve feels sick.

Not from the booze but from the violent fluttering sensation in his gut – he’s worried he’ll throw up butterflies if he opens his mouth.

   “I-“

He feels dizzy again, this time for reasons he’s not willing to confess.

Eddie’s gaze is piercing. It’s like he is trying to look right through him, searching for the truth that’s locked away in Steve’s heart. Barely held back from pouring out, thrashing behind bars that slowly crack and crumble as Steve loses himself in Eddie’s eyes.

His emotions swim in a sea of tequila and beer. He feels light-headed and the room is spinning again but this time, it’s because Steve feels drunk on Eddie.

   “I have a big, fat crush on you.”

It’s out. Just like that. And nothing bad happens. The world still revolves around the sun, people downstairs are still having fun, and Eddie doesn’t tell him to fuck off.

Instead, Eddie takes his face in both hands and looks him deep in the eyes.

   “Is this drunk you talking? Or do you mean it?”

Steve allows himself to lean into the warmth of Eddie’s palm, and smiles.

   “Both? I mean it. But I wouldn’t have told you if I hadn’t drowned my last functioning brain cells in Tequila,” Steve says honestly and his heart makes a funny thing when Eddie snorts at his words.

   “You’re lucky you’re cute, Stevie. I can’t believe Robin let you off the leash like that.”

   “Hey!” Steve protests with a light push to Eddie’s chest, absently lets his hand linger where he can feel Eddie’s heart beat hard and fast beneath his palm.

   “Just for your information, she did tell me it was a bad idea. But I saw you with that guy and-“

    Oops.

That’s not what he wanted to say.

   “Oooh, so you got drunk because you were jealous, huh?” Eddie wags his brows and it looks so dorky, Steve can’t help but laugh.

   “No! Okay maybe. But-“

Steve only now realises that Eddie’s hands are still cupping his face. That Eddie hasn’t pulled away; he’s still touching him, still so close there’s barely any room between them. This is too close. And although it feels good, Steve knows it isn’t right.

   “Listen, Eddie. I know that this isn’t mutual. And I guess- well, I hope this doesn’t make it awkward between us? I like you, Eddie. A lot. And I- I hope we can still be friends, des-“

  “Woah, hold on, Stevie!”

Suddenly, Eddie’s expression turns serious and Steve feels like his heart stops as he holds his breath, waiting for whatever comes next.

   “Before you jump to conclusions, I gotta confess something, too. I might also have a big, fat, stupid crush on you.”

Eddie’s hands move to the back of Steve’s neck, fingers curling into his hair in this kind of gentle but demanding way that makes Steve shiver.

   “I just didn’t think I’d have a chance.“

He moves closer, so close their noses are touching. Steve’s heart does that thing again, flips and kicks and he can feel Eddie’s do the same.

It makes him feel bold.

   “Can I kiss you?”

Steve wouldn’t even be mad if Eddie said no. He probably smells like a distillery and he looks like shit and his mouth is so dry because-

    God, why did I drink so much?

   “Only if I can kiss you, too.”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a response, just closes the remaining distance between their lips, tentatively and almost shy. But the way he digs his fingers deeper into Steve’s hair and pulls shows a desperation that matches Steve’s own.

Steve, who clings to Eddie with both arms wrapped tight around him, kissing him, touching him, losing himself in the moment.

He’s breathless when they part.

   “You good?” Eddie asks, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort in Steve’s.

   “Perfect,” Steve lies, doesn’t want Eddie to stop on his behalf, wants to keep kissing him.

   “You’re a bad liar, Stevie. You look tired.”

Eddie’s right. Steve should go home, drink a gallon of water and go to sleep, let the buzz wear off and-

   “Will this still be real tomorrow?”

    Please, let it be real.

Eddie presses another kiss to his lips before he nods.

   “I’m yours if you want me.”

   “Want you.”

   “Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

   “Are you coming home with me?” Steve asks, sounding a little more hopeful that he’d want to admit.

   “Just for tonight, let’s pretend I’m a gentleman, okay? I don’t want Robin to kill me before I have the chance to tell her.”

   “Tell her what?”

   “That I’m in love with her best friend.”

Steve will have the worst hangover tomorrow, he’s sure.

And Robin will have a lot to say about all of it.

But to hear Eddie say those words makes it all worth it.

   “What about Jeremy?” Steve’s being a teasing little shit now, he knows he is, can’t help himself.

   “I think his name was actually Jeffrey, or Jackson? I don’t really know him. He just wanted to talk to me about my band, saw us play a few weeks back.” Eddie grins, has this knowing look in his eyes that sends a hot rush to Steve’s cheeks.

   “Oh you bastard!” Steve huffs, feels stupid for falling for something like that. “I can't believe you let me think you two had something going on. That’s so mean!”

They both laugh.

   “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Eddie smirks and Steve can’t not kiss him.

   “I hate you,” Steve says through a smile and Eddie answers with his own.

   “I know, I love you, too.”

[lighteyed]

can it be easy this once? / steve harrington

summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)

unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy

It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of  closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.

    The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.

     Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.

    He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.

     “I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.

    “What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.

    “No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.

   “That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.

   You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”

    “You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.

   “You do this with all your best friends?”  

    “Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.

     “Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

    “What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.

   “I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

   “’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.

    “Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”

    “Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.

     “Does it look like I am?”

     “Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”

     “I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”

     And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.

    He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.

    “Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“

     “It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“

      “It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“

    “I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.

      He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.

     “What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.

      “What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

       “You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.

      He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”

     “Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.

      He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”

      “I know that, now continue.”

      “We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

     “Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.

     Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”

    “Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”

      “Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.

    “That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”

    “Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.

    “Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”

    “I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?

    “A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.

    “Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”

   “Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”

   “When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”

   “You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”

    “It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”

    “I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”

    “You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.

    “You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once.  “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.

    “Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“

     “Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”

    “Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.

     You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.

     It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.

    You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“

    “Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.

    It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.

    When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.

[v3lvieraven]

Twisted wonderland boys x sleepy!reader

Note- in this context it’s just that your constantly sleepy. But I didn’t add ortho.

Riddle-

Honestly he’s very worried, but also finds it endearing how you cling to him all the time. He likes the fact he’s the one you go to when you get sleepy. Makes it a very big deal to everyone around him when your asleep, telling them to be quiet or else they might lose their head. Generally if it’s during class though, he will try to wake you up or help you focus. But he knows you can’t help it at all, so on those rare occasions he gives in, he will take notes for you and scold you after. Your punishment is getting a full nights sleep with him.

Trey-

He loves it, often times he finds you asleep while he’s baking something for the queen. It’s always a lovely surprise for him to find you in a place he loves being. Many times he had to redirect riddle so that you were not in his line of sight, considering you would get a scolding session. There’s many times that he’s saved you from riddle in that regard, your very lucky trey is riddles best friend.

Cater-

He absolutely loves taking pictures of you when you’d asleep (if your okay with it of course). If your okay with him taking pictures, then he might post a few. But majority are saved in a private folder. He brags about it a lot too, and will actively make sure you hear him bragging about how cute you are. Even before you have an established relationship he would seek you out so he could fawn over you. He’s definitely like Leona/Floyd in the sense that he will use you as a teddy bear

Ace-

He’s going to complain a lot, and make fun of you. No doubt. He finds it annoying at first, but once you get to know each other, he begins to love it. He definitely tells you that he hates your sleepy face, but he has so many pictures. Also he’ll tell you that he doesn’t want to carry you around, but he insists even when you tell him he doesn’t have to.

Deuce-

He finds you so adorable. Beats up everyone who makes fun of you. Despite him thinking it’s adorable, he will make sure that it’s not a mental health problem or a health problem.. just wants you to be healthy in every way possible. Still, he defends you and makes sure to keep an eye on you so you don’t fall over or pass out. He may not be as affectionate as ace, but he will still pull you onto his lap often.

Leona-

Lazy ass lion. He has the audacity to call you lazy! I think you probably stepped on his tail, then when he was yelling at you, you thought of him as a stuffed animal because of the ears and cuddled him. You were too tired to realize what you were doing, and the best part is he let you. Now he drags you to the garden to be his stuffed animal. He gets very possessive and won’t let you sleep near anyone else.

Ruggie-

He also finds it endearing, although he doesn’t have much time to spare, he will coddle you and fawn over you like cater. But he expects something in return for looking after you while your asleep, often makes you take him on lunch dates. Teases you about your sleepy face but immediately starts pouting when you stop.

Jack-

He’s flustered, big strong wolf boy is turned into a needy puppy in your hands. Every time you cuddle up to him during class, whether it’s because the class is boring or because your tired and the room is cold, he always gets startled. You thought you were bothering him and stopped which caused him to be even more needy.

Azul-

His sleep schedule was absolutely fucked up. So your sleepy personality actually really helped when you whined for him to take a break and take a nap. Almost made you sign a contract to only take naps with him, and is still considering it. Probably asks you about it though, if you say yes he will be ecstatic. Due to his workload he’s often pent up, in need of relaxation! Meaning you are his perfect match

Jade-

Jade teases you all the time without relent. He loves it so much how could he not! But only he’s allowed to make fun of you for it, no one else. If your sensitive then he will try to tone it down though. I can imagine that he took you in a wagon while he was looking for mushrooms. That’s been stuck in my head all day, him just pulling your sleeping form around in a wagon.

Floyd-

He’s too energetic for his own good! Like I said earlier, he will use you as a stuffed animal. Hauling you around campus and really anywhere he goes while hugging you. Bites you to wake you up or make you focus and pay attention to him. He hates that he has to chase after your focus but it’s all worth it when your half-glaring at him but are too tired to do anything. It’s very cute!

Kalim-

Also is too energetic for his own good! Will scream in delight when you lay your head on his shoulder. But he’s a sweetheart about it, may or may not carry a pillow around for you so that your neck won’t hurt when taking a nap. Unfortunately that’s not very good when the teacher can clearly see the pillow and it definitely makes you stand out.

Jamil-

He’s more calm about it, he wants you to do well in school, so he might scold you or “monitor” you while you sleep. It’s kinda creepy, most of the time he does that thing where he stays there and cuddles with you until you fall asleep. That’s until he figures out that it backfires because now you wake up whenever he leaves…

Vil-

Oh dear, this will not do! Your hair is a mess, and while it may look cute like that you need to brush it out. He will scold you lightly but only because he’s worried about you. Rook managed to convince him to do your makeup while your asleep, he kept those photos as his wallpaper. But overall he loves you deeply, even if you constantly sleep on top of him when he’s supposed to be doing something…

Rook-

He will find out what is causing this. No matter what. It doesn’t matter if it’s a health problem that he can’t entirely fix, or if it’s just something like lack of sleep or insomnia, maybe narcolepsy. He wants to know if he can help. He still teases you, but that’s mostly to mask his worry. Will slip in little reminders to take care of yourself.

Epel-

He isn’t one to like cute things, but your the exception! He likes how calm you are! (I figure him as a person who likes either a very calm/tired person or an energetic partner. No in between) Honestly he likes how easy going you are, sometimes he feels like his life is too intense and you help level that. Draws on you in your sleep, but also makes sure you take care of yourself.

Idia-

Aw your so cute! You look like those anime girls that sleep all the time. Honestly he loves it, the only part he dislikes is when you don’t eat or drink because of exhaustion. He cares a lot for you though, enough that he will pause his game or let himself lose because you need something.

Malleus-

Lovely dragon boy, adorable dragon boy. He’s so in love, feels honored that you trust him enough to be in such a vulnerable state around him. That being said, he will make sure under no circumstances you don’t get woken up. Unless you need to eat or drink or shower and stuff like that. Sebek is prohibited from being around you when your in this state, specifically because he started yelling at you when you were sleeping on malleus’s lap. It stormed that night.

Lilia-

Aw you are so adorable! He could just hang upside-down with you! He’s done that as well, sometimes you don’t wake up and he gets all giddy. Almost dropped you… he scares you awake though, mainly because he finds it so cute with the face you make when you get startled.

Sebek-

I’m not even gonna lie, you arnt getting any naps in around him. It happens once in a while, those times are very special. It only happens when he’s sleepy or when your sick. That’s when he allows himself to be affectionate and cut loose. Mainly he will hold your hand while you sleep or he might play with your hair, but that’s about it. It’s not that he hates physical affection he’s just not used to it.

Sliver-

Immediately falls in love. If he’s the one that’s more tired, your stuck with waking him up and hauling him around with you when needed. He won’t object though, just make sure you cuddle him later to make up for it. Really hates when his sleep is disrupted but when it comes to you, it’s a lot better. If your the one that’s more sleepy, then it kinda depends. You’re either screwed or you’re being dragged with him wherever he goes. Says he sleeps better with you

[fetchen]

i’m back so let’s talk a little bit about something ive never seen anyone else mention: red’s nose piercing. :3

when i first noticed that red had her nose pierced, i assumed that it was just something that was already on kylie’s face. but as i got a little more into the making of rise of red, i realised that kylie actually doesn’t have her nose pierced. i’ll be honest, it kinda pissed me off because it told me that red’s nose piercing was a deliberate choice on the part of the character/costume designers and i hated that it was just…so boring. it just made me wonder why they didn’t do something way cooler with the jewelry. from that perspective, her gold hoop doesn’t really go with her colour palette and, frankly, it’s just kinda boring.

and then i thought about it from the context in which red as a character exists. her mom, the queen of hearts, is insanely controlling, to the point where red is unable to eat what she wants. because of this, she takes every chance she gets to show defiance. it makes sense to assume that each and every part of her design, in some way, reflects her rebellious nature- even down to her nose being pierced. in that case, i’m impressed with the fact that a design element so small can generate so many questions about the character and their environment.

like…when did red get her nose pierced? how did the queen of hearts react? who did it? did anybody else know? why the gold hoop? there are so many questions i have that will probably never be answered but are very, very fun to speculate about.

now, let’s talk about the gold hoop itself. my biggest complaint, from an aesthetic standpoint, is that the gold hoop just…doesn’t really fit red or her aesthetic. she wears exclusively black jewelry and the only other hint of gold in her design is her belt buckle. i think the biggest possibility is that the gold hoop is subtle. well, as subtle as a nose piercing could be. it blends in well enough that her mom doesn’t bother to make a fuss about it. if red had anything else, anything that stood out more than that gold hoop, she’d risk bearing the brunt of her mother’s punishment.

the act of red piercing her nose in and of itself was a physical manifestation of her disloyalty to her mother’s tyranny. intentional or not, in the queen’s future vision via the looking glass, red is notably missing that gold hoop she’s never seen without.

what that says about the looking glass, in my opinion, is that it’s not an objective tool. rather, it’s more of a gadget that shows the viewer the future they have in mind- but that’s not really the point i’m trying to make here.

my point is that red’s nose piercing is a physical representation of her rebellious nature and her closeness in ideology to her mother. she’s never seen onscreen without it unless it’s in the future scenario where she’s become a dictator alongside her. honestly, whether intentional or not, it’s a beautiful piece of character design- one that i bet you probably wouldn’t expect from a disney channel movie of all things.

[atomicladytimetravel]

Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

[missmaniac25]

Ateez Scenarios - Realising you're in love with your best friend

OK these are super short but I just... yeah anyways! Each member's piece is between 300 and 400 words (basically just drabbles)

The tl:dr: (they make more sense in context) Hongjoong: hearing your favourite song Seonghwa: laughing so hard it hurts Yunho: having his missing hoodie Yeosang: he remembers things about you San: makes you a personal gift Mingi: driving home late at night Wooyoung: you associate him with an adrenaline rush Jongho: sleeping in for 5 more minutes

~

Hongjoong:

Late night snack runs were your favourite menial thing to do with Hongjoong. It was partly the fact that you both could be extremely chaotic the longer you were without sleep but it was also one of the few times when it was just the two of you.

You ducked behind the chips just as Hongjoong’s head popped up on the other side of the aisle. You stifled your giggles behind your hand before sneaking down the row, making your way around to him.

“Yah!” He yelled when you appeared next to him, his hands raised like he was ready to fight. “Where did you even come from!?”

“I’m everywhere… like a ghost.”

The pair of you break out into giggles before moving on to find more food. While on your trek, something catches your attention: a song has started to crackle through the speaker of the shop. The second you know what song it is, your gaze shoots to Hongjoong, only to find him already looking at you with a wide grin on his face.

“This is our song,” he happily tells you.

“Hell yeah it is!”

The song that made you two become friends. The song that you both know all the words too. The song that every time you hear it, you think of him.

The next three minutes are spent taking turns singing as wildly and as purposefully over the top as you can, while the poor cashier looks on in dismay. It doesn’t matter if anyone else sees – life is too short to worry about it anyways.

As the song ends and you catch your breath, you look to your friend again.

If every night could be like this, seeing the sparkle in his eye from happiness, you’d sell everything you have to make it so. These nights, nights with Hongjoong, were the moments you lived for.

~

Seonghwa:

“I can’t breathe!”

Who even knows what you were laughing at in the first place. It doesn’t matter; the more Seonghwa laughs, the further into hysterics you fall.

The other patrons of the restaurant are eyeing the pair of you as you continue to cause a ruckus.

Seonghwa has his head on his arms, lying on the table, looking somewhat like an ostrich with its head in the sand. That realisation causes you to laugh more. And as you laugh, you see Seonghwa’s shoulder shake; he’s trying so hard to contain himself and failing so spectacularly.

Finally, he looks up at you, tears in his eyes but a smile on his face.

“You’re impossible,” he manages to say in between catching his breath.

It takes a few more minutes before you’ve calmed down enough to resume a normal conversation.

“Ow,” you sigh. “My abs hurt.”

“Do you even have abs?” Seonghwa wipes his cheeks dry one last time.

“Rude much. I might have abs. After that I probably do.”

Your best friend smiles at you – he’s so pretty, always has been. Even his laughter is pretty, and even though you’ve heard it for the past five minutes, you’d do anything to hear it again. It’s like a song you’d have on repeat for the rest of your life if you could.

“You alright?” Seonghwa asks.

“Yeah.” You shuffle a little in your seat. “Just… thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

“Oh.” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your words. “Thank you.”

His eyes are wide but full of affection for you. They almost shine.

“You aren’t going to say it back?” you joke, making him groan. “I pour my heart out to you and you can’t even return the favour!”

The smile returns to Seonghwa’s face and you feel the laughter bubbling inside of you again. Try as you might to hold it in, a giggle escapes you.

It doesn’t take long for you both to end up back the way you started – who even cares why you started laughing in the first place?

~

Yunho:

“You really have too many clothes.”

A soft ‘oof’ is heard as you throw another jersey at Yunho, more specifically his face.

“That’s why I’m trying to get rid of some of them, you nugget!”

Yunho just smiles as he sits on your bed, the lighthouse in the sea of garments that surround him.

“You didn’t have to come over today,” you chastise him. “But you chose to.”

He just laughs as more items are thrown his way.

Your cupboard is eventually empty and the sorting process can finally begin. It’s a relatively painless ordeal, tossing what you don’t want on the floor and what you do want back at your best friend, who gives his two cents when you aren’t sure if something is worth holding onto anymore or not.

“I don’t even remember buying this.” You hold up an extremely oversized hoodie. “Weird but I’m still keeping it.”

As it lands in Yunho’s lap, he’s quick to pick it up and give it a once over.

“This is mine!” He says, drawing your attention to him. “Why do you have it?”

“It’s yours?” The confusion is clear in your voice.

“Yes! Did you steal this?” Yunho laughs. “I thought I’d lost it ages ago.”

There’s a pause as you stare at each other, neither having the answer.

‘Well, if you really want it back, you can take it.” You shrug.

Yunho fiddles with the hoodie, feeling the material under his fingers before he shakes his head.

“You can keep it.”

It starts a back and forth of ‘are you sure’, ‘yes I’m sure’, ‘are you super sure?’ until your best friend can’t take it anymore, getting up and pulling the hoodie over your head.

You stand, looking at each other. Yunho smiles triumphantly and for some reason you feel butterflies in your stomach.

‘That’s never happened before,’ you muse to yourself.

“Will you just take the damned hoodie?” It’s less of a question from Yunho and more of a command.

With a sigh of defeat, you put it on properly and get back to organising while Yunho finds his place on your bed again.

“Besides, it looks cute on you.” He says nonchalant and your stomach feels weird again.

‘Oh no, I’m falling for my best friend.’

~

Yeosang:

“Do we have to do this every time?”

“Yes, now hurry up!”

Somewhat reluctantly, Yeosang lets you take his hand and pull him through the shop until you reach your goal.

The shelves of scented candles call to you and you happily oblige, picking up the first one in front of you and giving it a sniff.

“Hmmm,” you hum in happiness, putting it back and picking up the next one.

Yeosang can only stand and watch in amusement. Every time the two of you go out, you end up here, and because he’s such a good friend, Yeosang will let you smell all the candles to your hearts content, even though he has no interest in it whatsoever.

“This one is so nice!” You hold it out to him.

He doesn’t sniff it but his eyes scan the label in record speed.

“Well, vanilla is one of your favourites and that one has vanilla in it.”

You turn the candle around only to see that he’s correct. But there’s something else you want to find out.

“You know my favourite scents?” you query, still cradling the item in your hands.

“At least when it comes to scented candles, yeah,” Yeosang says. “I do pay attention to you, you know, even when you’re rambling about… I don’t know, what smells nice and what doesn’t.”

Theres a second where your brain short-circuits: that’s so kind that he remembers the little things about you.

But then you remember that that’s his job as your best friend. Right?

“Well, now I feel bad cause I don’t know what you like!”

Yeosang just shrugs and starts telling you that it’s not important but stops as he finds a candle thrust under his nose.

The following fifteen minutes are spent figuring out Yeosang’s preferences. And you’re making damned sure you remember them because that’s what best friends do.

Right?

~

San:

San proudly places the shoe box on your kitchen counter. He’s tried to make it look pretty by sticking pictures of the two of you to the outside, along with random cut-outs of pictures from a magazine.

“Happy birthday!” He sing-songs, a smile taking over his whole face.

“A box?” You tease. “San, you shouldn’t have.”

His expression immediately changes to one of annoyance.

“I’ll take your present back if you’re going to be mean about it,” he says, reaching for it.

You manage to react faster and grab it closer to you.

“Nah uh!” You give San a pointed look. “My birthday present. Mine!”

You don’t miss how he smirks before settling on the barstool next to you. You also don’t miss how his demeanour shifts when you open the box. He seems nervous all of a sudden, wringing his hands as he leans forward.

With the shoebox now open, you find a plethora of white envelopes. Pulling the top one out, you see the outside has a nearly written ‘1’ on it.

“Um, let me explain it,” San buts in, opting to look at the box rather than you. “So, there’s fifty-two letters. One for every week of the year. Cause we don’t always get to see each other I thought it would be nice to still be with you somehow.”

The piles of envelopes start to look blurry as your eyes get teary. It must’ve taken a lot of effort. So much time spent on you.

“I know it’s not very grand or anything,” San tries to justify, still wringing his hands.

“It’s perfect,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “Thank you.”

You fling your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He wastes no time hugging you back, his relief felt in his hold on you.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” you mumble into his shoulder.

San takes a deep breath.

“For you, I’d do so much more.”

His words bury themselves deep in your heart and you know they’ll stay there forever.

~

Mingi:

It’s an unofficial rule that the passenger side of Mingi’s car is reserved for you. Even tonight, when he offered to drop some of the others off before taking you home, the three other boys all squished into the backseat, leaving you to be comfortable up front.

The car pulls out of the last driveway and the journey to your home begins. Mingi passes you his phone and without even telling you, you open the music app and turn the volume down slightly.

“What you in the mood for?”

Mingi shrugs, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe something soft.”

You quickly find a playlist you like and let the music play.

There's nothing the two of you need to say. You could, and have, spoken nonsense for hours on end but tonight, you know it’s not the time.

Instead, you turn your head to look at your best friend, the lights outside cast shadows over his face, shifting as you pass under each street light. It draws your attention to his nose, then his hair, his cheeks, his chin, his eyes, his lips…

‘Has Mingi always been this attractive?’

It’s a random thought but one that doesn’t go away easily.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Mingi softly laughs when he catches your staring. “This feels kind of like an interrogation.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you Mingi.” You don’t take your eyes off of him. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

The atmosphere in the car feels thick enough to cut with a knife. Pulling up to a red light, Mingi turns to look at you.

“I’m not perfect,” he says, and before you can argue he speaks again. “But you are.”

An eternity passes before the light changes to green and he’s forced to look away.

There's too much weight in his words for you to process right now. You just hope you can keep your sanity until Mingi gets you home.

~

Wooyoung:

Two taps. Two quick taps on your leg to let you know what’s about to happen. You hold on a little tighter to Wooyoung’s torso as he hits the gas and pulls off, speeding down the empty road.

Its not often that you ride with Wooyoung on his bike. He nags and nags for weeks on end until you relent and let him take you for a joyride. Its not that you don’t enjoy it – if anything you enjoy it a little too much. The adrenaline is addicting and experiencing it with your best friend… well, maybe the adrenaline also makes those lines a bit blurred.

Wooyoung steers his bike into a mostly car-less parking lot and switches off the engine before helping you climb down.

“That was a fun stretch.” Wooyoung pulls his helmet off and shakes his head, trying to make his hair look good again.

“At least we weren’t pulled over this time,” you tease after following his lead, tucking your helmet under your arm.

“That was once!” Wooyoung is fast to defend himself. “And it wasn’t cause I was speeding!”

You give him your best ‘if you say so’ face before dodging as he tries to playfully hit you on the arm.

“I won’t take you out riding anymore.”

It’s an empty threat – both of you know it – but for some reason the idea of Wooyoung doing that makes you feel hurt.

You shift a little bit on your feet and look away but Wooyoung notices the change immediately.

“Hey,” he calls as he gently taps your legs to get your attention.

Your heart thumps in your chest, the rush of emotion coming back to you.

“I’ll never leave you behind, ok?”

He smiles and blood rushes to your head.

“Ok.” You smile back and it eases Wooyoung’s worry.

He pushes his hair back before putting his helmet on; you do the same.

Two quick taps is all it takes to get your heart pumping, even when Wooyoung doesn’t take you out on the bike. Even when it’s just him.

~

Jongho:

The wind howled outside of the window, causing you to shudder where you lay. Despite being buried under about a hundred blankets, just the sound of the wind made you feel cold. Winter mornings were not fun.

There was a shuffling in the bed next to you as your best friend rolled over as he slept. Jongho could sleep through just about anything. He’d once slumbered through a raging thunder storm, only waking up because you’d essentially screamed in his ear when the power had suddenly gone off.

The room was still dark as you reached for your phone, the light from the screen momentarily blinding you.

08:34

With a hum you decide it’s better to get up and get the day going than to rot in bed. Slowly, you sit up straight, regretting it instantly as the cold air surrounds you.

“Where are you going?”

The sleepy voice causes you to jump in your own skin.

“Go back to dreamland,” you tell Jongho, bracing yourself to finally get out from under the covers.

You nearly succeed but a heavy arm drops over your legs and you quickly find yourself being pulled back into the warmth of the bed. It’s not worth fighting; Jongho has always been stronger than you.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles, settling down once again, you now firmly in his grasp.

The heat from his body warms you up much faster than you thought it would. It could also be because you realise that despite sharing a bed with Jongho on many an occasion, you’ve ever been this close before.

The longer you lie with him, the calmer your heart becomes.

Five minutes turns into ten. Ten into twenty.

You don’t know how long you stay there, wrapped up in Jongho’s arms. But what you do know is that if given the choice, you’d stay there forever.

~

@eazycel dearest, here you go 😘

[matryosika]

Johnny; Power Dynamic and Other Analysis

Wordcount — 1,086 words Includes — Headcanons Genre — Smut 18+ ✉️ Author's Note — Took me forever to fulfill this request, but here it is! I honestly felt like I got too immersed into the power dynamic bit, but honestly I had plenty to say about Johnny. Please keep in mind that these are headcanons and I'm just free-associating for a thousand words straight; this is fiction and in no way I'm claiming this is real. It's honestly the vibes I get from him, and that's pretty much it.

Nurturing, guiding and a natural giver —a soft and service dom. 

I picture Johnny as someone dominant, both in sexual and non-sexual contexts. He likes to take the lead, to guide and might even love to teach others —during intimacy, he is no different.

He doesn’t strike me as a sadist at all; Johnny is tender when it comes to the physical aspects, and practices such as impact play might not be his cup of tea. Not even when it comes to punishments.

Because as much of a soft and service dom he can be, I sense Johnny likes it when you submit entirely. He can switch from being a soft dom to a brat tamer, but it’s not what he likes best —he likes it when you behave and, willingly, submit to him. He finds it endearing, and he might even think it is somewhat romantic to be in complete control of you.

Because yes, he enjoys being in complete control of you. In and out of bed. 

If you’re loyal to him, behave and submit in the ways Johnny wants you to submit, then he might reward you with the pleasure of having no responsibilities. Would even take the weight of deciding anything (from what food to eat, to which clothes to wear) off your shoulders, if you want and allow him to.

In that sense, I see Johnny as someone who takes his role very seriously —he is the type to “whatever my baby wants, my baby gets” as long as you behave. If you’re good to him, he will be good to you.

But Johnny can be quite stern, and he is not one to let things slip. Not once. 

If you're good, then you're safe. If you do him wrong, expect some retaliation from his side.

Johnny is something of an extremist —either he gives you everything or nothing at all. Denial might be his favorite way to punish you, and he doesn't even flinch at your begging and crying whenever the punishment lasts for a bit too long.

He also doesn't mind abstaining from sex because he is really in control of himself. Johnny doesn't bend easily, and that's why his punishments denying you are way worse than a couple of spankings or other forms of physical punishments. 

Onto the practices he likes, I feel very strongly about dumbification, but like, it comes naturally. There’s something about this man that just screams to me that he might phrase his sentences and perform his actions in a way that could make you feel you silly, that you know nothing —it’s the perfect balance between humiliation and guidance. He is overstimulating you so much to the point that you can't form a coherent sentence? Don't worry, Johnny can help you find the words. You're too embarrassed to say what you want? He might make you repeat word by word after him. You can no longer come without his help? “Do I have to do everything for you, baby? Don’t worry, I got you”. 

Johnny needs you to need him. And he is okay bearing the responsibilities such a thing entails. 

But even whilst being a service dom, when his pleasure mostly derives from yours, his own physical pleasure can’t be neglected. Johnny is very talkative about what he wants and how he wants it, and he doesn’t mind teaching you what he likes, taking his time shaping you into the perfect submissive for him. 

It's not that he wants someone who is well-experienced, and that they know what they're doing —he wants someone that is willing to learn everything there is about him, to teach them what he is into and how he likes it. 

He wants someone perfectly made for him, and him only; so this is probably a good time to talk about his corruption kink.

The corruption for him would be introducing you to his lifestyle, the things he likes. He isn't necessarily interested in teaching you what sex is about, no —he wants to teach you all the things he knows, the way he lives, the things he enjoys. He wants to corrupt you into finding new pleasures, into finding satisfaction in things you didn't think could satisfy you before. There's also some corruption into moving the power dynamics you two might have in bed into non-sexual contexts —corrupting you into “behaving”, into following rules, into trusting him enough to give him your freedom of will and choice.

However, with everything mentioned above, please note that consent means everything to him. And albeit stern when it comes to rules and punishments, Johnny values input. He will never act without your consent, and will never move forward with such a dynamic without any sort of negotiation. He would also respect it if you're not willing to offer him what he wants, and might want to work together to get to a common ground.

And just like he wants you to learn about him, he takes his role as a dom very seriously as he learns from you. He knows everything, from the smallest little things such as your favorite snack or color, to things that might have to do with your emotions or thoughts. Johnny wants you to rely on him, and might offer you intimacy as a way of treating yourself from dealing with the stress and anguish the real world can cause.

He is tender and loves taking his time with foreplay. Sex can last for hours with him, and I'm not talking precisely about penetration —petting, masturbation, oral sex, dirty talk... he likes to take his time with you and your pleasure. Because of this, I don’t feel like he enjoys quickies, nor fucking in uncomfortable places. It’s either the bed or nothing.

And although he might be picky with all that stuff, you should know that it is for a reason. His priority is that you both feel comfortable, in a safe space where you two can unwind. Johnny doesn’t mind to show the dynamic you two have to the world —however, sex is a whole other issue. Such intimacy is between you and him only, unless discussed otherwise.

Because yes, if you want a threesome, Johnny will agree. 

If you want to experiment with a new kink or fetish, Johnny will say yes.

If there’s something you’d like to try out, Johnny will comply.

To whatever you want, actually.

You know —with him, what you want, you get.

[magnus-rhymes-with-swagness]

OKAY who wants to hear about why i think nimona challenges amatonormativity? you do! 🫵

one of the main ways this is accomplished is through ballister and ambrosius’s relationship. it’s arguable that it doesn’t necessarily fit the traditional model of romance - not only are they a queer interracial couple, and not only is their relationship ambiguous in the book, but there are certain instances, especially in the movie, that subvert traditional ideas of romance and friendship.

one instance that really stands out to me is when the director asks ambrosius what’s on his mind and he goes on his imagined rant about how arm-chopping isn’t a love language - you know the one. when he mentions ballister, he refers to him as “the man i love, my best friend.” and not just one or the other, but both! the man i love, and my best friend. he places equal emphasis on both the romantic and platonic aspects of the relationship, valuing ballister in both a romantic context and a platonic context without treating either one as more important than the other.

and even moments such as the first “i love you” and the kiss manage to subvert tradition. both of these things are generally seen as a pretty big deal, especially in fiction - if the characters are kissing or saying “i love you,” it’s usually a moment in which everything changes. a line is drawn, dividing the story into after and now. sometimes it’s dramatic and climactic, with fireworks and a swell of music, but even when it isn’t it’s still seen as a turning point of sorts. now it’s official, now it’s real. but this isn’t the case in nimona. both moments are certainly significant - they do a good job of showcasing the character development and where ballister and ambrosius are on their respective journeys, and are certainly important in terms of representation - but neither one follows the path that most fictional romance does.

another way in which nimona challenges amatonormativity would be the emphasis on friendship! in the tavern scene (in the movie) when ambrosius suggests killing nimona, ballister disagrees and says “she’s my friend.” ambrosius replies with “aren’t i more than that?”, implying he’s more important than a friend - thus upholding amatonormative ideas. ballister becomes angry at that and leaves - challenging this idea and prioritizing his platonic relationship with nimona over his romantic one with ambrosius, as nimona is the one he wants to defend.

additionally, a big part of this scene is the way ballister deliberately rejects institute values while ambrosius unintentionally upholds them. and because the story challenges homophobia and transphobia (and other forms of bigotry) through the lens of the institute, it would make sense for it to challenge amatonormativity too! it’s something that’s become incredibly normalized, to the point that lots of people don’t even know it exists, and this is reminiscent of the institute brainwashing, especially when it comes to ambrosius - he’s been manipulated his whole life and probably genuinely doesn’t understand the level to which he’s internalized institute beliefs.

ballister prioritizes nimona many times, actually. when he tells ambrosius she’s “smart, kind, and quite sophisticated,” when he’s overjoyed to see her again at the end, when he refuses to kill her and saves her instead. over and over, he proves how much he cares about her, even when this involves directly going against what ambrosius wants - which, of course, is really what the institute wants. a core tenant of amatonormativity is the false notion that romantic relationships are more important or valuable than other types of relationships, but ballister actively goes against this!

to conclude, as a story that at its core is about identity and challenging societal beliefs, nimona defies expectations and traditional ideas of what it should or shouldn’t be. it’s possible that amatonormativity wasn’t what the creators had in mind, but the story still manages to challenge it with grace and elegance. just like its main character, nimona refuses to conform to what others want it to be.

[i-luv-p0tat0es]

Glassheart Modern Prep School AU!!

This is just an idea I’ve had, it probably doesn’t make much sense without context but I’m posting this anyway!

Chloe has always had one goal. Be perfect. She knows it’s unrealistic, her therapist tells her it’s not the best goal to have. But it’s the standard that she sets for herself, and for the past 16 years she’s been doing a damn good job.

It’s funny how her entire world is flipped on its head when a new girl comes to town and shows her that her flaws are what make her perfect.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ✩°｡⋆˚⁺

Chloe suddenly regretted not accepting her father’s help with her bags. She had to haul her copious amount of luggage down the long and familiar halls of Auradon Prep. Eventually, she got to her dorm and set them down, she pulls out a small keycard and slides it into the lock. She waits for the green light to flash as she hears a click. She opens the door and starts to put all of her stuff down as she breathes in the familiar smell of her room.

With a content sigh she took in the space around her. It was mostly the same as when she left it, the walls were still that same off-white color, the beams still had the intricate wooden texture, and the windows had the same view she loved looking out at in the morning. She made sure to check the kitchenette first, looking for any faults, making sure the sink was running and the fridge was cold.

Chloe remembers her parents telling her about someone sponsoring the school, their child would be attending this year, and they had paid to put new equipment in all around the building. It showed when Chloe opened the cabinets expecting a loud squeak, but was met with silence instead.

Heading up to the loft she looked at the plain beds sitting up there and the door that leads to the balcony between them. She jumped onto the one she had claimed when she first moved in, sinking into the memory foam she reminisced on the past few years.

She remembered how happy she was to have no one sharing this space with her. It got lonely sometimes, but it made her cherish being on her own. So what she only had 2 real friends, one of them being her cousin, she was fine by herself. She talked to a lot of people, and people loved talking to her. Her last name had irony to it and it was not lost on her. But the conversations she had were only ever surface level with them. No one ever really stuck around.

And Chloe was perfectly fine with that.

She got up and walked into the bathroom, making sure everything was in good shape. Once her small check was done Chloe pulled out her phone and took a picture in the mirror smiling. She sends it to her family group chat, and grins as replies start flooding in.

Papa 👑: Theres my pretty girl!!

Brobear 🧸: nerd

Mommy💙: Hi darling! How’s move-in day going?

She’s about to reply to her mother when she hears the door click from downstairs. She goes out to check who entered when she’s met with a head she’d never seen on campus. She knew everyone on campus.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” Chloe called as she walked down the stairs to talk to the girl.

The girl whips her head around and Chloe freezes for a moment. When the girl’s fiery red hair falls to frame her face Chloe knows. She knows this must be the new student because she would have remembered that face. Chloe can’t help it when her eyes start to look over the girl, her amber eyes are glowing as the window lets the sunlight peak through the blinds, her nose ring standing out against her skin. And, God, the lips that start turning upward into a smirk. Chloe’s gaze flicks back up to the girl’s eyes when the lips start moving.

“W-What?”

“I said my name is Red,” Chloe blushes as she chided herself for not paying attention.

“You’re the new student?” She asks the obvious question because her mind is still trying to catch up after seeing the girl. She already knows the answer as Red nods. “And you’re staying here?”

[blitzbuckzowild]

On Stolitz, Kink and Power Dynamics, and Role Reversal - Stolas Centric

So, I have been thinking a lot about the kink dynamics between Stolas and Blitzø, especially how they are portrayed in the show vs. what is popular (or more popular than you’d think) among fan works. A lot of this has probably been said, but I am unsure what has and has not, and I have only recently begun to interact with the community.

For some background, I have about 10 years of experience within the kink/BDSM lifestyle including several long-term dynamics as both Dom and sub, attendance to events, extensive engagement in online forums, etc. I’ve been in many types of dynamics and have a good understanding of the culture.

We have very little knowledge on the intricacies of the dynamic between Stolas and Blitzø but from what I can gather its a pretty standard one without very much structure. This makes sense seeing as before recent canon events, their scenes are primarily limited to once a month. There is no evidence of switching that I can find in the show, most likely they stay firm in their roles of Blitzø as Dom and Stolas as sub. There is the comment during the Loo Loo Land episode, where Blitzø say “wait till her dad tries diddling your holes”, but the keyword being “tries.” Now obviously he could be receiving penetration, but I find it hard to believe that there is any actual control given to Stolas.

This structure obviously allows for some entertaining role reversal, and (on the surface level at least) mitigates some of the issues with the power at the same time. I find myself often wondering how people would regard the dynamic between them if Blitzø was portrayed as the sub. It obviously doesn’t really fit his character as he is now, but it is a thought.

Anyway, the point is actually to explore the idea of a role reversal between the two and what this can represent. Obviously, a lot of this has been touched on in fan-works, and probably other posts, but primarily in the framework of Blitzø’s experience subbing. I think that is well-established that a lot of the draw for Blitzø to submit is the idea of him being vulnerable and letting go of control. There are many works that focus on this.

But what about Stolas? That’s something I haven’t seen a lot of.

Stolas is passive. Even if he snarks back at Blitzø and does set some boundaries a bit at the beginning of Apology Tour, and he does tease and push, it’s really not substantial. Even with Full Moon, even with the crystal, he is still so submissive to everything that happens around him. He makes his grand gesture and throws the ball in Blitzø’s court until he can’t handle what that looks like. He let’s things just happen to him for the most part. So a lot of his character growth in the show focuses on him gaining confidence and taking initiative.

Even in Apology Tour, at the Blitzø Hate party, he makes it clear where he stands on what he wants his role in a relationship to be. He wants to be pursued, like a woman in a rom-com who stereotypically and historically takes a passive role to whatever confident or goofy hunk wants her. Sure, she wants him (usually), but typically she is not doing the pursuing. Instead she rolls her eyes and things happen to her.

Stolas taking on a dominant role, taking control, even in the context of kink, can be symbolic for him learning ambition and initiative. Everything has been decided for him and he’s letting Blitzø’s actions and responses make the decision for him. Even with Octavia, he acts as if he is collateral to her behavior and emotions. It’s fair for him to want Blitzø pursue him and to take accountability. However, at some point he needs to pursue as well. You could say that the crystal was an instance in which he did? But was it really when at the first sign of resistance from Blitzø, he folds and pull back.

All this to say, there can be some really great story telling using their BDSM dynamics. I don’t really expect the show to address this, because I think there are some intricacies here that can only be appreciated by those really involved in the BDSM lifestyle, and honestly I am not sure how knowledgeable the writers are about it outside of the mainstream knowledge (Well mainstream compared to someone like me.)

With the deal ended, and the power dynamics somewhat balancing out, the door is really opened for this type of thing. There isn’t as much baggage in Blitzø being portrayed in a sub role. The class divide is still there, but Stolas no longer holds all of the cards

There is waaaay more I can say on this in regard to the roles of sub and Dom and how they relate to Stolas and Blitzø but this is already so long. Some things to consider would be the the actual emotional needs that are filled by each role, the ways relationships in dynamics develop, different BDSM subcultures and theories on the nature of their dynamic, and more of my thoughts on how their current dynamic with Stolas subbing and Blitzø Domming impacting perceptions of their previous arrangement by viewers, how Blitzø is already submissive to Stolas in ways, the general emotional state of people when engaging in kink, etc. I could also provide my own thoughts on Blitzø subbing but I feel it’s already well addressed in the fandom.

Maybe I’ll do a part 2 if it’s wanted or I get the will. I would love to engage in any discussion (agreeing or otherwise) on this, I probably missed some things, or interpreted stuff differently than others.

And here is a Poll to wrap this up

[justakidicarus]

Alastor has something he fears.

With how modern media has been going, well written characters are harder to come by, so I am very pleased to see how Alastor is written in the season 1 finale of Hazbin Hotel. Admittedly I did not watch the episode in full, but two major scenes are what I want to talk about.

Adam vs Alastor, and what I want to call Alastor’s interlude (his verse in the final song).

During Alastor’s fight with Adam, Alastor has clear technical advantage, but Adam’s sheer firepower overpowers him. Everyone has probably seen the “What just happened?? … Fuck.” Moment. Now most writers would write another character coming in for a save, or in the context of Hazbin a regular sinner would keep fighting.

Alastor is not your average sinner.

He accepts his defeat and slinks away before Adam can land the finishing blow. This is actually a massive thing no one really talks about, the fact that instead of staying to fight Alastor acknowledged when he was bested and left to fight another day. He is a fucking smart guy but this moment, when he chooses to lose rather than die, is super important to his character, and becomes clear in Alastor’s interlude.

Alastor is terrified of dying.

And I really do mean terrified.

Throughout the song you can hear the emotion in his voice (holy shit did Amir Talai do a good job). His facial expressions are panicked, especially during the line “died for his friends” and the close up at “The constraints of my deal surely have a back door,” that line in particular really capturing the picture of panic and terror. When he first speaks of dying, he looks more angry, but the rest of the verse he just looks terrified. Even if he may be a sinner and thus, has already experienced death, it remains his greatest fear as evident by his reaction to nearly meeting it.

Which makes sense when you look at the context of his death.

Alastor was shot in the head while occupied with burying a body in a hunting reserve. A gunshot to the brain is a quick and near instant way to die, especially since he likely wasn’t aware of the hunter and gun. To him, he heard a loud bang and was suddenly in hell. He has never experienced death properly because he didn’t even have a moment to process that his time was up until he was in the afterlife. Even in the afterlife, as a sinner he can’t permanently die, the only way possible is being killed by angelic weapons.

Weapons like what Adam wields.

Most people believe that Alastor retreated when his staff broke because he couldn’t fight without it, but I actually believe it’s because he realised that Adam could actually kill him. For the first time in his entire life, and afterlife, Alastor was faced with the possibility that he would die. For good.

And he was terrified of it.

He fled not because he couldn’t continue to fight, but because he was scared of fighting Adam and running the suddenly very real risk of dying, but hiding it as best he could. This is obviously made easier by his constantly smiling mouth (which I don’t think he can stop doing if you look at the stitched from his deal with Charlie) but there are a few signs. He loses control of his power such as his left eye and shadow. His ears tilt back as he’s getting up, a sign of distress in animals, and when he first gets up he looks around alert despite knowing the threat is in front of him, classic prey animal behaviour. Not to mention there’s almost 10 seconds where he doesn’t get up and is just on the ground with his face obscured while Vox gives his declaration. These behaviours could be pain related, he does have internal and external bleeding from Adam’s attack after all, or it could be fear based. Still, his interlude leads me to believe it’s a mix instead of solely the former.

Finally his sudden dedication to finding a loophole in his deal with his unknown contractor (I’m hesitant to say Lilith but idk).

From what I can gather by his actions surrounding the hotel and his strange dedication to Charlie and the hotel’s wellbeing, I’m inclined the believe his deal centers around protecting Charlie and the hotel. A deal he now desperately wants out of. It’s no secret that Alastor hates being on a leash (Husker found that out the hard way) but how the fuck did he even end up on one in the first place if he hates it so much?

Simple, he didn’t see it as a bad idea at the time. That or he could have died without it but we don’t know that yet

If what he got in return was a good deal of power or something else he coveted, why wouldn’t he take the deal to play secret bodyguard and watcher for the princess of hell, one of the most well guarded people in hell, and her lofty idea that ultimately will fail and likely gain no traction at all? It’s practically free power.

And then Charlie starts pissing off all of heaven. And dragging her father and whole host of powerful and dangerous beings into her charade.

Now this is becoming a bad idea he can’t back out from.

And then he almost dies.

Why would the try to escape his deal? Alastor values his life above all else and his greatest fear that I think he now knows about, is the fear of death itself, a suddenly very real risk with the people Charlie, the person he’s forced to protect, is angering. Alastor wants out because of that sheer human thing that is the fear of death.

That’s why it’s such great writing.

Alastor is scared of death and that is what makes him human.

It’s a part of his character he can overcome or fall victim to, something that makes his character relatable and 3D rather than a distant mask. It’s something that makes him human, and that’s especially important in a character that was once just that.

No matter where Alastor’s character goes in the future, if he overcomes this fear and is somehow redeemed (plausible in the way the show is going), or if he is a villain for a future season brewing in the shadows, still driven by this fear that is so central to his actions (again, plausible with how the show is so far, he still had a villain moment after all even if it was a humanising one), Alastor’s character has actually gained so much depth, and all from one little scene sharing one shard of humanity he has left.