#where he always has to be doing something to prevent his brain from thinking about things he doesn't want to think about

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

i just noticed (thought that has been plaguing me for two weeks) that I accidentally made witch eclipse too emotional and now I have to rewrite (reverse thought process cuz the only thing written was a timeline) his personality to make him a little less uh that

[lowkeyremi]

JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS

basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)

Gojo

PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.

Yuji

I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.

Megumi

Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.

Geto

He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.

Toji

There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"

Nanami

He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.

A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"

"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."

Nobara

Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"

Maki

She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.

Inumaki

Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.

Shoko

She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."

Sukuna

Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."

Choso

He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.

[cloudwisp]

football player!gojo x cheerleader!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. he's a little bit (a lot) of a playboy but he's absolutely smitten with you. nothing coherent, just vibes. 1.6k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I’ve been watching early 2000s romcoms and this idea has been stuck in my head ever since. ꒱

⭒ You’re newly recruited on the cheerleading squad, and that alone caught Gojo’s attention when he spots a pretty new girl stretching her arms and legs in the open field at the start of practice. You’ve heard about him, of course. The girls like to share stories about him and the most popular jocks in school along with crushes and boyfriends in the locker room. They say he’s good in bed but never sticks around long enough for something serious. Always seen with a different girl each week and they can only hope and dream to be his one and only someday.

⭒ You have to admit that he’s good looking, so unfairly handsome with quick wits and good humor that will keep you entertained for hours in his company. He always gets the best grades too and comes from a wealthy background that makes you think he must be God’s favorite. Especially when you get a glimpse of his sculpted body when he pulls his shirt over his head one afternoon. It’s a delicious sight and you’re brought back down to earth at the sound of your teammates squealing over him. Just what can’t he do? And what doesn’t he have? You’re sure every guy wants to be him, and every girl wants to be with him.

⭒ Gojo approaches you with the few minutes of spare time before warm up officially takes place, offering you some assistance if you need help with your stretches—it’s good for your flexibility and he highlights the importance of the proper techniques to prevent injury or so he says. You know his game, he must view you as this shiny new toy and that’s why he’s interested but who says you can’t have a little fun too? So you accept his kind offer, and a smirk tugs at his lips as he helps you relieve your sore limbs from practice the day before and running your routine again and again.

⭒ This position seems dangerous, with you lying on your back and one leg extended on the ground while he moves the other toward your chest with your knee straightened. You didn’t expect him to use his body to reach those tight muscles in your hamstrings when he placed your ankle just at his shoulder and he pressed his body forward to stretch you nice and good. You’re insanely flexible as he was able to close the distance between you two with just a few inches apart, and it makes his head spin when he’s close to you like this. The soft moan that leaves your lips makes the blood rush from his brain to somewhere lower and he has to restrain himself from doing something inappropriate. He wants to hear more of you and be the reason for those pretty sounds.

⭒ Of course, this caught the attention of majority of your teammates and some of the football players. It’s an enviable situation you both have found yourselves in, but you truly don’t have any real expectations from him other than that he mostly wants you for your body. Perhaps you could say the same thing about him, in the event that you and Gojo have a fling of sorts—you’d know to keep some emotional distance from him just to save yourself from any real attachment and heartbreak. You’re not so naive to get your hopes up and believe he’ll change his ways just for you, but maybe you do want to make the most out of your highschool experience.

⭒ Though, he does have a certain charm that you’re not exactly immune to and his sweet way with words that you’ve seen so many girls fall for. So when he gets straight to the point that he wants to take you out to dinner this Friday, you suppose you want to mess with him a little. “I’ve got my eyes set on someone else,” you tell him and he follows your line of sight until he sees where you’re looking. He feels his stomach drop as he realizes you’re interested in his best friend. “Geto? You’re interested in Geto?” You glance back at Gojo and leave him with a sweet smile and your thanks for the stretches, and he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

⭒ There are plenty of girls falling at his feet, but only you occupy his mind since he had first laid eyes on you. He experienced rejection maybe once or twice before and was able to move onto the next with no hard feelings, but something about you still intrigues him. Like he genuinely wants to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours, what warms and touches your heart, what makes your soul feel nourished and fulfilled. He wants to be with you, even outside of anything sexual because you are someone special and he can feel it.

⭒ He likes calling you by the nickname Angel, and it does make your heart flutter when it’s paired with that cute grin of his. You always greet him back with that bright smile of yours, and he normally wouldn’t be this fixated on a single person for weeks that slowly stretch into months but you have that kind of effect on him. Maybe you have him wrapped around your finger and he doesn’t even know it yet. But what Gojo knows is that he craves being around you (and getting into your personal space), learning every small detail and habit about you through observation, and keeping an open ear to your off-hand stories about your life or daily events. He looks forward to seeing you every single day more than he cares to admit.

⭒ He never stops his advances, trying to get you to give him a chance and he went to great lengths just for you to look his way. He doesn’t know what finally did it, but you suddenly agree to reserve a Friday night just for him when he chats you up after practice. He almost couldn’t believe his ears at first, his brain short-circuits for a split second when he’d normally be so smug about securing a date with anyone else. But you aren’t just another girl to him, he can tell that much. His expression quickly changes into a wide grin, “I’ll pick you up at seven, take you somewhere nice. How's that sound, angel?”

⭒ He arrives at your place promptly at the appointed time and parks his nice car in the driveway. He steps out with a bouquet of roses, taking a deep breath as he straightens himself before walking to your doorstep to ring the bell—never once in his life has he felt jitters like this. Except maybe before a big game, but still you manage to make the palms of his hand sweat in his anticipation for you to answer the door. And when you do, you knock the air right out of his lungs with your hair and makeup and dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. “Wow, you look… beautiful.” He says, holding up the flowers to you with a lovesick smile. When you tell him that he looks handsome too with the use of his surname—he sweetly requests that you call him Satoru.

⭒ Gojo’s inexperienced when it comes to relationships, and he warns you about that and understands that it won’t be easy to win your trust and heart given his reputation. But he promises that you’re the only girl that has made him feel this way, and he’s trying to make this work because he’s serious about you and wants something real as long as you’ll have him. You want to believe him yet a small part of you doubts his words. You’re still going to give him a chance to prove that small voice in your head wrong, but you won’t be so quick to fall for him. Because even if it doesn’t work out between you two, at least you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

⭒ He can’t promise that he’ll be perfect or that he won’t mess up. And that much is true when he takes you to a regular date spot that he had brought a couple of girlfriends to previously. That explains why he recommends the lobster pasta to you which led you to ask if he’s been here with someone before. He notices your disappointment and how you shrug it off by saying you’re just grateful he’s taking you out on a date. His hand rests over yours on the table and he apologizes for hurting your feelings. He did want to make you feel special and important, not like just another girl he’s taking to this restaurant. He feels like a complete idiot for not realizing his mistake, and it won’t happen again in the future.

⭒ Gojo can clearly see now that he has so much to learn if he wants to make you happy. And he can almost feel like you're having second thoughts about him—but he does care about you, and more than anything he wants you to believe that he does. He’s not looking for a quick fix, and he hates how he made you feel like you’re a temporary distraction to him. But he supposes that old habits die hard. When he walks you to your doorstep, he promises you again and crosses his heart that he’s in it for the long haul and he’ll show you how much you mean to him and make you forget all about those doubts and fears.

꒰ note ᰔ some more thoughts is that he gets irrationally jealous when you tell him you’ve already had your first kiss and he follows your rule to keep his hands to himself until the fourth date. thank you for reading if you reached the end -blows you a kiss- ꒱

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi!! I'm sososo obsessed with Satyr König oml you're a genius (also I've binge read your whole yandere könig tag it's so perfect). Okay so sorry in advance for my English, but:

I can't stop thinking about a shy (and kinda pervert lmao) nymph reader who sees him, sees how big and strong he is and how well he secretly protects all her sisters (and how irresistible his big, thick cock is) and really falls in love and is wildly attracted to him, BUT she's very shy and the idea of telling him her feelings is too mortifying, so when he's out in the woods she sneaks in his den, tidies the place up, brings him some flowers as gifts (yeah im inverting the usual roles lol), snuggles in his bed of furs (maybe touches herself fantasizing about him-) and König, well, notices the changes in his house and is VERY perplexed, so one day he returns earlier than usual and sees this cute, soft and unaware nymph moaning and whimpering in his den, her face against his furs, all wet and willing and ready to mate while she quietly moans his name, eyes closed and face red- he'd go FERAL

The idea of desperately horny satyr König with a more than willing needy nymph makes my brain melt oml

(And btw, do you think you'll ever write Satyr König again, in general?)

Satyr!König goes absolutely feral, yes.

He noticed the lingering sweet scent at the mouth of his den already, a sugary, floral scent that he knows so very well. He knows it to his core, because his nose wants to follow that scent whenever he catches it.

Only nymphs smell this sweet, like flower meadows and moonlight, like spring water and honeycombs. The distinct scent of a kore is eerie, and only gets stronger when he walks further into his lair, but what’s more is that he recognizes who this particular scent belongs to… He has memorized her in his loneliness, and every time he catches a whiff of her in the air outside, he can’t help but grow hard.

He barely even notices the absence of his usual mess, that someone has washed all his cups and put his wine pots in order. His den has seen a lot of brooming, and there are fresh flowers placed on his oaken table, thoughtful bouquets hanged from the roots of his oak. But before he gets to inspect those odd little things further – he’s used to trampling flowers out in the wild, he never even thought of using them as decoration, but they do look kind of nice, don’t they? – he hears a soft whimper from the back of the den.

From where he sleeps, and isn’t it peculiar how he can now smell something else, now, too… Something irresistibly heady, something that demands action at once, making his cock stir and swell to the point where it’s almost painful. There’s another soft moan, calling to him like an enchanted flute: his whole den has changed from a dark dungeon into a soft, scented temple, echoing with the sounds of a maiden in heat.

He finds her spread over his thick, musky furs, furs that have seen countless lonely nights, and have to be changed every turn of the moon because they’re so grimy. She doesn’t seem to have any trouble with laying down in his filth, the rough furs that smell of seed and satyr sweat, of old musk and maybe a few tears. Satyrs cannot cry, they say, but that’s only because no one ever sees them do so. He’s spilled more than his fill of salt on that makeshift bed, and not all of it was ropes of hot seed…

“P–please…”

She sees him, sees how surprised he is catching her here, in the place all nymphs always try to evade. She sees how hard he is while watching her bare and panting there, all over his furs, lips swollen from lust. Both up and down, her lips are wet and quivering; she’s completely ready to be taken, and only the tiniest sliver of respect prevents him from fucking her senseless right here and right now.

“Please, I beg of you…”

But when she begs for it like that…?

He doesn’t hesitate a moment longer. He simply cannot.

And why waste time on thinking how she got here (or more importantly, why she got here?) Why mull on the hot question of why isn’t the loveliest creature on earth trying to get away from him?

“No need to beg,” he grunts as he lays himself upon her, cock hot and already leaking as it finds her entrance.

The smell of ambrosia envelops him as he glides inside, the whimper from his nymph a song of paradise. She smiles softly at such immediate lust, or is it the sun that comes out of the clouds, somehow reaching under the branches of this oak?

She welcomes him with open arms, a tear falling down her temple and into her hair as he tries to be gentle with her. But it’s not really his size or his lust that makes her cry. Her hands trail up and down his sides, they try to desperately wrap around his wide torso. She looks into his eyes while he starts to rut her, amazed to have been granted such a blessing at all.

“I’m in love with you,” she sighs into the air between them, her eyes glimmering with worship in the dim, earthy dusk of his den.

He messes up with his thrusts, breathing out his shock while hovering over her. She’s so delicate and frail, and so desperate for a nymph who’s supposed to be frolicking in the open fields… She should be climbing in the tall trees and giggling at centaurs from there, she should be admiring the full moon and the stars, she should be playing in the freshwater with her sisters.

He always thought this one feared him the most, slinking into the shadows beneath the trees whenever she saw him. Casting her eyes down as if she didn’t want him to notice her at all, never mocking or teasing him like the others did. That’s why he left her alone: because he didn’t want to break her. She was far too pure for someone like him.

But now she’s here, with flowers and a hot, wet body, trying to grab him so hopelessly in her fragile embrace…

“You can’t say things like that, little one,” he warns, feeling something akin to fear for the first time in his life.

“Why not…? It’s true,” she chimes there beneath him, a few more tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

His chest is burning, but the only sound that comes out of him is a low growl. A warning and a plea.

“You shouldn’t tease an old faun.”

“And you shouldn’t stop what you only just started...”

He blinks at her answer, at her soft smile.

Then, he shoots down to kiss her neck.

She moans from love when he opens his mouth, careful not to puncture her delicate flesh with his teeth: he only devours his nymph with soft hunger, licking and sucking her soft skin. Her giggles and sighs drive him to the sweetest madness as he starts to make love to her under the earth.

His home has never heard such cries of joy, felt or seen such displays of devotion… He returns her confessions thousandfold, in every way he can. These silly little creatures always fear a satyr’s love is only about lust, and therefore escape such hollow adoration, but he’s not here to just ease the pain in his sacks.

He’s now forever bound to her, whether she knows it or not…

[pippin-katz]

So, you know how Edwin screams for Charles as he’s being dragged back to Hell? Because he’s scared?

I was thinking about why, and it’s obvious. No big brain moment here. Someone you care about, who you know cares about you in return, brings even the smallest amount of comfort in situations where you are scared. They make you feel safe, so when you’re in danger you want them near you.

Edwin screams for him while being dragged away to Hell, and calls to him when he’s strapped into Esther’s device before the torture starts.

Yeah, we already know that, but I noticed something yesterday.

When you’re thinking about the show in general, Charles is the one who does the physical rescuing and protecting. Edwin’s best way of doing that is to make sure nothing goes awry so Charles won’t have to rescue someone. He prevents the danger from happening the best he can, while Charles charges at the danger if he has to. Edwin actually calling to Charles for help more makes sense given how their methods of helping each other differ.

But yesterday, I was working on something, and I like to listen to the show in the background sometimes (gotta boost those numbers for my boys ✌🏻). I can typically finish the whole show in a day cause it’s not long, so I started it at the beginning.

While listening to them tussling with the WWI ghost, obviously Charles yells, “Edwin! Hurry the fuck up!”

It’s an instruction and emphasis of the urgency and the need for speed in this situation. Telling someone to hurry up is used in all sorts of contexts, serious and unserious. You might say it with frustration if you were trying meet a deadline with a partner, or angrily while playing some video game that has timers, or with concern if you were waiting for important updates on the conditions of an injured friend.

Charles is a combination of them because the situation has been getting out of hand and he can’t do anything about it. He needs Edwin to cast the spell to break the curse.

But it’s while Edwin is saying the spell that Charles yells just his name. It had always created a feeling in my chest, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.

Listening to it with headphones (multiple times) and while not being distracted by the visuals allowed my brain to focus on just the voices, and how I felt while listening to them. I’ve listened it so many times over the last month, and I finally managed to fully figure it out!

The roughness in his voice from yelling so loud. The desperation that seeps into it. The way he enunciates his name, stress on and the pitch raising on the second syllable, similar to the way you'd ask a question, when the stress is usually on the first syllable, and the pitch usually goes down.

This is maybe the only time in the entire series where Charles sounds scared (excluding flashbacks). I don’t mean the “worried about someone” type of scared; we get to hear that a couple times, mostly when Edwin is taken back to Hell.

But no, here he is scared for himself.

He’s gotten thrown around. He’s gotten choked. He’s gotten knocked onto the ground on his back, being pinned down by a malevolent ghost of a soldier, who also has a knife and is very much trying to stab him right now.

Charles has done everything he can. Now, he just needs to not get hurt until Edwin breaks the curse. But that’s easier said than done when your opponent has basically every advantage. He’s struggling! He has been struggling! And now he's about to be stabbed!

He yells to Edwin because he’s scared, and he knows Edwin will do everything in his power to protect him in a dangerous situation, just as Charles would for him. It’s cry for help instead of an instruction.

But it's also a reassuring gesture for himself. Edwin is there. He trusts Edwin. Edwin is his safety. He has been since he met him in the attic, and became the first person in a very long time, maybe ever, to show so much care, and protectiveness toward him, after everyone in his life had hurt him or had watched him be hurt and did nothing. Edwin won’t let anything happen to him. Edwin is going to save him. And he believes it despite his fear, and Edwin does!

His means of doing so look very different from Charles’, but it’s through breaking the curse that he’ll save Charles rather than trying to fight the ghost off of him. That won’t work. Edwin can’t physically do that, and it wouldn’t stop the ghost from continuing to attack them. So despite him being several feet away casting a spell instead of running to Charles, he is protecting and saving him. And Charles knows that too.

It creates a weird fuzzy feeling in my chest to know that Edwin is the person Charles thinks of when he's scared. It's obvious that Edwin sees Charles as safety, so it feels rarer to see the opposite on display. They are each other's safety, and that is fucking special.

(ko-fi)

[grapejuicebrat]

“Little dark age”

PAIRING: dark!rafe cameron x reader

SYNOPSIS: just know that if you hide it doesn’t go away.

SUMMARY: from the very beginning your relationship with rafe were perfect. You went on a dates, called each other multiple times just because. After a perfect month everything changed. He called you because he wanted to know where you are. At the end of the day he is worried about you. He stalked you just to know that you are safe. At the end of the day he is worried about you. He beat the shit out of a random guy who just helped you on the street because this guy could be a maniac. At the end of the day rafe was worried about you. You fell into a golden cage but at the end of the day rafe knew better. He is just worried about you.

WARNINGS: rafe cameron, a little bit of smut, angst, toxic and abusive relationship, swearing, kissing, mentions of blood, mentions of death, reader being a mouse and rafe being a cat:)

NOTES: what can i say the effect of rafe cameron and s4 of outer banks. be nice english isn’t my first language. inspiration:

WORD COUNT: 772

I appreciate reblogs and likes, share your ideas and thoughts too!

“Rafey, you don’t mean that, right?” you were about to start crying. Your eyes are full of tears, voice is shaking. He can’t do this. He can’t stop you from meeting your friends. You knew them for more than 10 years. if you don't have them, with whom will you have to share your thoughts and fears? Rafe is too busy for this shit. He needs to earn money, he doesn’t have time for your stupid thoughts.

“Stop with this fucking shit. I already told you you don’t need them anyway. You have me.” Rafe thinks that you are too fucking stupid if you think that you can change his mind. he has already decided that you will be better off without these pogues who are preventing you from making the right decisions. they decided to turn you against him. what kind of shit they are. you can't survive without him, he knows that. you are not adapted to a poor life, you are used to living in gold and money.

“But Rafey, they are my friends. I don’t have anybody except them” you want to say something else but you were interrupted by Rafe. He just slapped you. You feel your cheek burning and tears begin to flow. Yeah, he shouted at you before, but never hit you. Not until today. There was silence in the room. You look at him with wide eyes, not believing what he just did. “You hit me.”

“Cause you don’t fucking understand. God, i can’t remember that you were that fucking stupid when we first started dating. What the fuck, doll. Use your fucking brain. I’m just really worried about you. I want to be sure that you are always safe, you are always with me” he speaks quickly, not allowing you to say anything in response. actively gestures with his hands, showing that he really cares. Rafe takes your face in his hands and squeezes your cheeks tightly with his palms. You wince, one cheek still hurts from the blow, but you remain silent. You want to hear what else he has to say. You want to believe that he cares about you.

“Baby…fuck. I don’t like to hurt you, you know? But i can’t just pretend that you are good when you are acting bad. My word is the last, i’m the man. I am working like a damn dog so you could have a roof over your head and what are your responsibilities? prepare dinner and open your legs when I ask? Is that too hard? If you can’t do this, maybe i should break up with you and find a girlfriend who will respect me.” Rafe sighed, pretending to be disappointed. obviously he wanted you to feel guilty towards him.

It’s your fault that he beat the guy until he bled, you shouldn’t have agreed to his offer of help. It's your fault that that guy died in the hospital. It's your fault that Rafe was sent to prison for a couple of weeks. It's your fault that Rafe is disappointed in you now. after all, you're acting like a bad girlfriend who doesn't respect him.

“Maybe you’re right” you finally said in a quiet voice. Rafe stopped and looked at you carefully.

“What was that?”

“I said maybe you’re right” you repeated looking into his eyes. “maybe you should find a new girl who will respect you and humiliate herself for you?”

“That was the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard” Rafe laughs as he comes closer to you. “You don’t seem to understand. even if I find a new girl, I will also take care of you, keep an eye on you. You will always be mine. Wherever you are, whoever you are with. Always. Mine. In fact, you won't be with anyone. Because it's all mine.” He looks at you like a hungry animal. He runs his fingers along your cheek, down to your neck and lower. He squeezes your breasts tightly with his hand, the other going down to your stomach and to the butt. you stand motionless. you almost can’t breathe because you’re afraid of doing something wrong. You are afraid of Rafe.

“You are so good for me right now. My good girl” he praises you, slowly starting to kiss your neck. He teases you, grinning like a devil. Suddenly he leans away, taking your face in his hands. “I will never let you go, doll. I’m your endgame.”

And he kisses you. Sharp, painful and powerful. so you understand that he is not joking. he will truly never let you go. He is your endgame.

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part One: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Smut will come later, not explicit but sensual I guess? (warning now) strong language, angst, fluff.

Summary: This takes place in modern times. Eddie & reader are in early 30s. Eddie is raising his two year old son, Hunter, alone while coping with the death of his son’s mother who he had a complicated relationship with. He runs into an old friend at the bookstore (the reader) and memories of their time together as teenagers flood his brain to a point where he cannot stop thinking about her and the what if’s. This blossoms into a beautiful rekindled friendship and potentially something more.

Word Count: 5.1K

Thirty-four-year-old Eddie Munson hovers over the crib, his eyes bloodshot, he was so tired, but he always made sure to watch him fall asleep. His sweet son, Hunter. He was turning two years old tomorrow. Two whole years. Eddie couldn’t imagine him not existing, even if it didn’t start out the way he wanted to. Hunter’s mother had died six months after he was born; it was a subject Eddie didn’t talk about with many people. Not even his friends. Olivia was sick, she was tired, she thought the easiest way was to just disappear forever. He was angry at her, but he had loved her. In a way they only knew how to love one another. 

Hunter was the best thing that ever happened to him. He reaches his hand over to his face, gently caressing the spot between his eyes, his brown curly hair lined his face perfectly. His lips puckered while he slept, and he would go into random laughing fits in his sleep. Eddie would tell him that it was grandma making him laugh from Heaven. He sighs, taking the video monitor and putting on the white noise machine. 

He walks downstairs and plops himself onto the couch. 

“You’re doing good, Eds.” The voice comes out of the shadows. 

Oh yeah, he also talks to the dead mother of his child. It was worse after she died, then it went away for awhile. Now, it’s been a daily occurrence. He isn’t sure if it’s his way of coping with her death or if he’s actually talking to her, but he wasn’t in the mood. 

“Go away.” He mutters. 

Olivia’s form reaches his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t turn his head. He couldn’t. The last time he did she didn’t look normal, she looked very dead. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

“You keep saying that and I honestly don’t think you are.” He laughs, feeling tears form at the corners of his eyes, he sniffles them back. “It was your choice to leave us. Leave me alone.” 

“I just want you to be happy, Eddie.” Her voice is fading. 

“Who says I’m not happy?” He grumbles, glancing at the time on his phone. “Go say happy birthday to our son and then stay away.” 

He doesn’t feel her presence in the room, and he’s almost relieved. Their relationship was complicated, even before she got pregnant. They were just friends with benefits, met at the hideout and it became a weekly thing. He loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. She felt the same, but they tried to make it work when she got pregnant. He noticed a change in her after Hunter was born, she stopped going to her postpartum appointments, had denied that she was depressed. She was a wonderful mother, but she didn’t think she was good enough. She said so in her note, and it has taken him over a year to prevent himself from lighting it on fire. 

He was grieving, he knew that. But he was grieving more so for Hunter not having a mother. Like himself. Robin has been a big help. She would show up unannounced, demand him to take a nap or shower and she would take care of Hunter. He didn’t say many words but when he would see her, he would say “Teetee”, Auntie was too hard for him right now. He sighs and texts Robin: 

Been hearing her again. 

His phone immediately rings and he groans, sliding it to answer. “You know I hate talking on the phone.” 

“I don’t care. When did it start up again?” He hears the beeping from inside her car and her door shut.

“Robin, you don’t need to come here, I’m fine.” Eddie groans, falling back on the couch, his long hair falling out of its half bun. 

“When did it start?” 

“I don’t know, two weeks ago maybe.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as soon as hears Robin huff. Demanding in the sweetest way possible why he didn’t tell her sooner, and if he needs her to come over more. “Robin…Robin…slow it down. I’m fine. I promise.” 

“Well, I’m still coming over.” 

Eddie groans. “I was just gonna smoke a joint and go to bed.”

“Okay, smoke a joint, I’ll be there in five.” 

She hangs up and Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He gets up from the couch, taking the video monitor with him and goes into the two-car garage. He turns the light of the garage on, his truck sat idle in one of the spaces and his Sweetheart, drum set, and musical equipment sat in the other spot. 

He lucked out finding this house; it was a fixer upper, and they gave it to him 3,000 dollars below the asking price. He was able to finish the basement; he did it all himself, with the exceptional help of Robin, Steve and Dustin. It was a two-floor cape house; covered in wall-to-wall carpet. Ripping it up was easy, adding new flooring was not. Uncle Wayne had helped with the rest, and Eddie had settled for area rugs and the house came together beautifully. Hunter took his first steps in the hallway; he got his first bump on his head on the kitchen cabinet when he didn’t know how to slow down when he was “running”. 

Eddie chuckles as he rolls the joint, at the time it wasn’t funny, because Hunter was screaming, and Eddie thought he had brain damage. He remembers Robin saying, “don’t react, don’t react…be calm”. And once he calmed down, Hunter calmed down and went about his business, finding his toy bus and playing with it in the living room. 

He lights the joint, inhaling on it deeply and letting it out slowly of his mouth. He hears Robin’s car pull on the driveway and he carefully lifts up the garage door, her lights blinding him. He waves at her to shut them off and she flicks the high beams at him twice just to add some extra annoyance. 

She giggles, coming out of the car, holding two plastic bags of snacks and drinks. He takes them from her, immediately opening the popcorn. 

“You really didn’t have to come here.” He says, chewing on the popcorn and then inhaling on his joint. He passes it to her, and she takes it willingly. 

“I’m on vacation and Vicky is away for the weekend with her sister.” She passes the joint back to him as they walk back into the garage. “Plus, you need a day off.” 

“I’m on vacation too.” He grumbles, and he was, he took two weeks off from the record shop he co-owned just to spend more time with Hunter and potentially start writing music again. 

“Dude, I mean like a day off.” She says, passing him a soda from the bag. “Me and Hunter can have an auntie day, and you can go run errands or go scream in the woods.” 

Eddie chuckles. “Screaming in the woods does sound appealing.”

“Please just take the day for yourself, man.” She tells him kindly, both finishing off the joint and walking back inside. “You need it.” She peels off her jacket, it was springtime, but the nighttime air was still a bit chilly. 

“I don’t want to put a burden on you, Rob. He can be a handful, and it’s his birthday.” He tells her, moving his way to the living room to check the monitor. 

“He’s obsessed with me. He saves the tantrums for you. I’m not saying go out for the whole day, just go do something for you for a couple hours, and then we can have cake when you get back.” She pats his shoulder, and he laughs. They both sit on the couch; Eddie puts on a music documentary for background noise. 

He feels her eyes on him, and he turns his head to look at her. “Go ahead, ask the question.” 

“Are you really okay?” She asks him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “Okay in what sense?” 

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m okay when I’m with Hunter. When he giggles at something he finds funny, when he grabs my face just press his forehead against mine, when he hugs me. Nighttime lately has been…lonely, I guess.” He groans, hating that he was opening up like this, but Robin could unfortunately read him like a book. 

“Do you miss her?” 

“Of course I do.” He says, sighing loudly after he hesitates. “I miss having a partner, she was so good. And Hunter loved her…” His throat clenches, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m pissed at her for robbing him of a mother. I’m fucking angry, Robin. She had the help in front of her, I don’t understand.” 

Robin is silent for a moment. “Sometimes it’s hard for some people to get out of that darkness. Being in constant pain everyday and just trekking along. It wasn’t your job to save her, Eddie.” 

“I could never leave him like that.” His voice trembles. “He’s everything to me.” 

“And he was everything to her.” Robin says, leaning over to grab his hand. “But sometimes, that isn’t enough.” 

“Well, it should’ve been.” He wipes his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore, the more I talk about her the angrier I get.”

“Has Hunter talked about her?” 

And…we’re still talking about her. 

“Not really, he will stare at her picture and smile. His eyes twinkle like hers, that bright blue mixed with green. It’s beautiful.” He tries to smile. “I just feel like his life is already gonna be fucked up because of this and because I’m his dad.” 

“You’re a great father, Eddie.” 

He’s quiet. 

“I question it sometimes.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t. That little boy loves you.” She squeezes his hand. “I don’t know a thing about being a parent, but I know my parents, and they sucked. It’s not easy, but you’re doing your best.” 

He rolls his eyes, groaning, laying his head against her shoulder. “Can’t you just let me be self deprecating for once? I hate that you’re a nice person sometimes.” 

“I hate that you’re mean to yourself. You’re my best friend, and I wish you would just see what I see.” 

“I need to write again.” He sighs. 

“So, write. Go somewhere tomorrow and do that.” She rests her head against his. He pats her knee, sighing. 

“Fine. I will do that…after I express some more self-deprecating behavior.” 

“You’re so annoying, dude.” She laughs, shoving him away. 

“It’s your fault for wanting to be my friend.” 

***

Hunter had woken later than usual; he was happy and giggling and as soon as he saw Robin’s face, he squealed with delight. Eddie had put on one of Hunter’s favorite songs, Let’s Dance by David Bowie and the two of them danced and sang the song to him with goofy faces which made him have full belly laughs. It took Eddie a few pushes from Robin before she could get him out of the house. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, but as he drove, he realizes he hasn’t been to the bookstore in a while. He had bought a lot of his music books back in the day from there, along with anything that had to do with the Lord of the Rings. He pulls into the parking lot and steps out, adjusting his jeans and his Knocked Loose t-shirt. As soon as he steps in the doorway, he is hit with a familiar aroma of books. He forgot how soothing it was to just stand there and take it all in. 

He wasn’t sure where to go first; they had done a lot of rearranging of the place. He settled with heading to the children’s section first. He felt like a little kid himself, remembering how it felt to open a new book and see the pictures pop out from the pages. He had a pile in his arms, one of the workers had to give him a basket so his arm wouldn’t fall off. He found children’s board books called Baby Bowie, Baby Janis and Baby Elvis. He found a children’s book rendition of the Goonies and Back to the Future, as well as a cute store about a pack of baby wolves in the woods. He exits the area, completely distracted by his next his adventure into the horror section when he accidentally collides with a woman in the aisle. He drops his basket, as well as causing her to drop her pile of books. 

“Oh shit, I am so sorry.” He tells her, squatting down to help her pick up up the books. 

“No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

That voice.

Eddie looks up. 

Your voice. 

The two of you lock eyes; Eddie almost topples over. 

“Oh my god…Eddie?!” You squeal with delight, getting to your feet and Eddie follows, lifting you off your feet as he hugs your waist tightly. He was almost shaking; it had been close to twenty years since he last laid his eyes on you. 

He pulls away to look at you and he smiles. “You haven’t changed.” 

You blush. “Neither have you.” You curl a piece of his hair in your finger. He stares at you and is having a hard time trying to find words as he hands your books to you. 

“How-how long are you in town for?” He asks you quietly, still smiling. 

“Oh, uh…permanently.” You say with a small laugh. “I moved into my parents house…my mom died a few years ago and my dad had to go to nursing home.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He says sadly, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t know.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to come, Eddie. You got your hands full. How’s your son?” You smile sweetly at him, and his heart does a pitter patter. 

“He’s awesome. He’s two today. He’s at my house hanging out with Robin.” 

“Robin Buckley? How is she?” 

“She’s great, getting married next year to Vicky.” 

Eddie had heard that you were married a few years ago, but he didn’t want to pry when he didn’t see a ring on your finger and the admission that you were living with your parents. You smile, shaking your head and taking out your phone. “You probably should be getting back to Hunter. I would love to catch up though.” You ask him for his number which he gives willingly, and you send Eddie a melting face emoji and he giggles. 

“Got it.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. You sigh, going up on your toes to hug his shoulders. “It was so good to see you.” 

Eddie squeezes your waist, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. It has been a long time since another man held you like this. You pull away and say your goodbyes, going your separate ways. 

Eddie is still dumbfounded when he gets home, he couldn’t believe he ran into you. Robin notices the look on his face, and he tells her everything. 

“Whoa dude, the one who got away.” 

“I mean, not really.” He says, moving Hunter’s curly hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead. “The only thing that happened was we kissed, and that was short lived because the cops came to break up the party in the woods.” 

“Kissed key word. Steve and I had been rooting for the two of you that whole summer.” 

Eddie laughs. “We were just friends at that point.” He pulls Hunter in his arms, rocking him gently and he lays his head against Eddie’s chest, ready to fall asleep for his afternoon nap. Eddie stares at Hunter, taking him all in as he sometimes does. His beautiful round cheeks, his full lips. The dimples he got from Eddie, so much more prominent. His bright blue eyes stare into his, and his little hand goes up to cup his cheek and Eddie kisses his palm. Robin was watching her best friend from the background, knowing that his little moment he was sharing with Hunter was a moment just for them. Eddie begins singing a soft melody to him, and by the time he’s finished, Hunter is sound asleep in his arms. 

Eddie had placed him in his pack and play in the living room, covering him with his favorite blanket. 

“Go write some music.” Robin says gently. “I’ll hang in here with him.” 

Eddie nods, gently squeezing her hand. “Thank you.” 

Eddie walks in the garage, sighing as he takes a pack of cigarettes he had hidden in the cabinet. He barely smokes anymore, but when he needs to write something, a buzz from nicotine will usually do the trick. He sits down on the stool behind the drum set, laying his composition notebook on the snare drum, opening it to a blank page. He lights up the cigarette, letting the fire burn his lungs. He closes his eyes, slowly letting out the smoke. He takes the cap off his pen with his teeth and hovers it over the blank page. 

A sound of a beer can opening…

A cute laugh…

He stares off for a moment, remembering…

A long time ago…

Eddie sits on a broken tree limb, smoking a cigarette and sipping his beer, staring at the bon fire. He was seventeen, sitting by himself while watching his friends socialize. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize tonight; he was already in a bad mood, but Robin and Steve really wanted him at the party. His dad had called from prison, asking Eddie to wire him some money for his canteen. Eddie told him to fuck himself, and his father ended the call to tell him it was the anniversary of his mother Elizabeth’s death. Which he had forgotten about. And he was oddly overcome with so much sadness and grief he didn’t know how else to process it besides sulking. Eddie feels a presence next to him, and turns to see you, gripping an empty beer bottle. 

“Walk with me.” You mutter quietly. 

“What?” Eddie asks you, confusion setting in but also concern on why your hands are trembling. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You whisper. “I’m pretty sure one of the dudes over there drugged me…please just walk with me.” 

A burning rage fills up Eddie’s lungs as he looks over at the crowd of football players, passing small glances over at the two of you. Eddie couldn’t fathom why someone would do that…especially to someone like you. Eddie stands up, about to walk over there but you grab his denim jacket in a tight fist. 

“No, Eddie. Walk with me.” You tell him, desperation in your tone and Eddie lets out a sigh and nods. You drop the beer bottle when he takes your hand and the two of you walk down a dark path towards where the moon overlooks the lake. 

You lean against a tree; Eddie watches you as you take in a few deep breaths. He walks towards you, gently taking your hand. 

“Walk me through it, are you feeling it?” He asks you carefully. 

“I don’t know…maybe? My legs feel weird. I know I’m drunk, but my heart won’t stop racing. I feel like I’m gonna get sick.” 

“If you puke it will dial down the effects of the drugs.” Eddie tells you gently, the rage still burning. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, hiccuping and then holding your stomach. “Some douche bag.” 

“I need a name.” 

“No, you don’t, what you need is to hold my hair back because if you keep talking, I’m gonna throw up on your shoes.” You awkwardly stumble into him as you clench your stomach with your arm, and you feel the bile rise to your throat and the vomit come out like a faucet. Eddie’s holding your hair and gently rubbing your back as you violently puke behind the tree. When you feel like you have nothing left from your insides, you groan, leaning back against the tree. You didn’t feel like you were going to black out anymore, but the slight high was still there. 

“There’s…water…in my bag…” you tell him quietly. “Can you get it for me, please?” 

Eddie nods, going through your bag and handing you a steel water bottle. You chug it; Eddie tells you to slow down so you don’t puke again but you wave him off. You slide down to your bottom on the cool ground, your legs covered in dirt. “Thank you.”

“Now will you tell me who it was?” 

You giggle. “No. It’s over with. I’m the idiot who took a drink from a stranger at a party in the woods.” 

“Don’t victim blame.” Eddie tells you with a smirk. 

“I’m not a victim. You, Eddie Munson were my knight and shining armor who rescued me.” You giggle at how ridiculous you sound. “Sorry, I’m still drunk and I’m trying to keep it together.” 

Eddie laughs, sitting next to you. His heart doing a pitter patter as he stares at you. Steve and Robin had introduced you to him two summers ago. You had hung out together but never alone like this, he couldn’t get over your beauty. Even in the moonlight, your features were breathtaking. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him quietly. “You’ve seemed a little off all night.” 

Eddie is caught off guard by your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiles at you, taking out his cigarettes. 

“Those are bad for you.” You smirk at him. “Haven’t you seen those commercials?” 

“Yup.” He laughs, twirling the lighter in his hands. “I won’t smoke if it bothers you.” 

“No, it’s fine, cause I’m probably gonna ask you for one.” You laugh. 

“But these are bad for you.” Eddie teases and you gently nudge him with your foot. 

“Give me one.” 

Eddie laughs, taking two from his pack, and handing you one. He lights yours first, the flame illuminating your face as you inhale deeply, you only cough a little and you lean your head back against the tree. The two of you sit in silence, your anxiety was subsiding. His presence alone was making you feel safe, comfortable. 

“I was thinking about my mom.” Eddie tells you after a moment and you glance over at him, he’s not sure why he told you, he guesses he just needed to say it out loud. “Today is her anniversary…and I forgot. So, I feel like a shitty son.” 

You lean closer to him. “I’m sorry.” 

Eddie shrugs. “It’s just a lifelong thing I have to deal with I guess.” 

You inhale on the cigarette, letting it billow from your nostrils. “My dad lost both of his brothers during Vietnam. His older brother got killed over there and his other brother came home but never left until he took his life. I remember being young and asking him how it feels to grow up without them, how they stay the same age, and he gets older, approaching their ages year after year. I think I caught him off guard because it took him awhile to say what he said. But he said, ‘it feels like being trapped in a current, one side of the water is pulling you towards where you don’t want to go, and the other side is fighting against you. You can either swim with all your might to avoid it until you’re exhausted, or you can let the current slowly carry you. That’s what grief is, it’s never ending, sometimes it’s okay to fight against it, but sometimes it’s not. It’s just empty love’.” 

Eddie stares in awe at you, feeling tears creep up into the corners of his eyes. “Wow. I never thought of it like that.” 

“Me either, but I’ve also never lost anyone.” You sigh, glancing at his solemn face. “She must’ve been an amazing woman.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie hesitates. “From what I remember. She’s why I love music, so I guess when I play music or write songs, I take her with me.” 

You smile, and gently rest your head against his shoulder. He tenses a little but relaxes, resting his cheek against the top of your head. This felt natural to you, and it surprisingly felt natural to Eddie. You didn’t even know what time it was, and in that moment you didn’t care. You could stay curled next to him forever. 

“Will I feel like this tomorrow?” You whisper. 

His curly hair tickles your forehead. “You’re probably gonna have a headache in the morning. Drink a lot of water.” 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there…or if my first instinct wasn’t to come find you.” You lean your head up to look at his face and he meets your eyes, his heart racing over how close your faces were. “Thank you.” 

Eddie smiles, gently squeezing your hand. “Don’t need to thank me. You could give me a name though.” 

“Nope.” You laugh and he sighs, shaking his head. 

“I’m gonna find out eventually.” He says, snuffing the cigarette out on a rock. 

“And you’re going to do nothing because I told you to do nothing.” You say, meeting his brown eyes, staring at them and he stares back at you. “Did you know that your eyes have a bit of gold in them? They’re beautiful.” 

Eddie blushes and giggles. “You’re just drunk.” He bumps you with his shoulder. 

“No, well, yes but…I never noticed them before.” You move your hand up to cup his face and he almost flinches. “There’s a lot I didn’t notice before.” 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, carefully turning towards you so your knees are touching. He lifts his hand to curl a piece of hair behind your ear and you tremble. You lean towards his lips, and he pulls back a little, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure? You’re still drunk, I don’t want you to—"

“Just kiss me, you dork.” You laugh and he smiles shyly. He leans carefully towards you, slightly trembling as his soft lips press against yours. A thousand volts goes through your entire core as you kiss him, and he wonders why he never got the guts to kiss you before now. The kiss deepens, and you push your body closer to his as he cups the back of your head. His other hand grips your waist, and you sigh, sitting on his lap. 

“COPS!” 

Someone yells as they run past you two, and your lips pull away quickly. You could hear the sirens by the fire and the sound of walkie talkies. The two of you scramble to your feet, you grab your bag, and he takes your hand, both going into a sprint through the woods. You couldn’t stop laughing, the excitement of kissing him as well as the adrenaline from escaping the cops was making you feel all kinds of giddy. When the two of you felt comfortable enough to slow down, you both end up on a quiet road, which was near your house, the silence was calming, and you had to catch your breath from the laughing. 

“That was insane.” You laugh. “I’ve never run from the cops before.” 

“It’s a cake walk for me now.” Eddie laughs, taking your hand as you two walk silently towards your street. Thunder booms over head, rain begins to pelt you both. You laugh loudly as the rain becomes torrential and you’re running again to the sidewalk in front of your house. He walks you to the front door, the awning shielding you both from the rain and you giggle, moving your wet hair from your face. 

Eddie laughs, picking a piece of a leaf that landed in your hair. You smile at him, clearing your throat. 

“I had a lot of fun.” You tell him and he smiles. 

“Yeah, me too.” He grins. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll message you if I need you to pull me out of a black out.” You joke. 

“Don’t scare me because I will sleep outside your window.” 

You smile at him, gently patting his face. “Thank you for everything, Eddie.” 

Eddie gently cups your chin, smiling. “Don’t need to thank me.” 

You laugh, shaking your head, opening your screen door quietly. You stop at the door, looking up at him. You lean up on your toes, kissing him softly on the lips and open your front door. You wave to him from your foyer, telling him to text you when he got home safely. 

Eddie walked through the rain that night with a smile on his face, still feeling the tingle of your lips against his. 

It was a feeling he hasn’t felt before, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to lose it yet. 

Eddie groans, closing his notebook. He didn’t write anything, he was in a daze, thinking of you, remembering that kiss. The kiss that sealed the deal that you were the girl of his dreams, but then life happened, you never really saw each other again. But he always thought about you, always wondered what if, even when he was with Olivia. He sighs, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolling to the text message you had sent him earlier. 

He didn’t know what to say, or what to ask. He didn’t know if it was too soon to reach out to you or if you were waiting for him. Coffee was innocent enough, right? He needed to find a babysitter first, only for a few hours. He couldn’t ask Robin again, he felt too bad, but he knew she would say yes. He felt extremely guilty suddenly; he shouldn’t be leaving him with babysitters. 

“Text her.” Olivia’s voice comes out of the shadows and Eddie gasps loudly, falling off the drum stool. 

“Fuck.” Eddie says, catching his breath. “Go away.” 

“Not until you text her.” He could feel her presence, and his hands tremble as he keeps his eyes fixed on the high hat. He knew she was right behind him, but he wouldn’t look. 

“You’re an actual nightmare.” He mutters, reaching for his phone. 

“Take Hunter with you if you have to.”

“No, I don’t want to confuse him.” 

“How would you confuse him?”

“She’s not you.” Eddie says, his heart slowly breaking.

“No, she’s not. But, Eddie…this will be good for you, for both of you.”

Eddie stares at the blinking cursor on the text thread, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He doesn’t feel Olivia’s presence anymore and quickly types up a message, hitting send.

Hi, I’m not sure if you have plans or not tomorrow, but would you like to meet for coffee in the morning? There’s a café near my house where they have cake pops that Hunter loves. I hope you don’t mind that he tags along.

She responds immediately: Why would I mind? He’s your son. Of course I would love to meet for coffee. 8am okay?

Eddie smiles. That sounds perfect. 

[synthetickitsune]

Oh, Death ✧ y.jh

Pairing: grim reaper!Yoon Jeonghan x reader (gn) Genre: angst without plot Summary: You've always thought death was beautiful and then you’re proven right just before your very own death when he comes to take you away. Word count: 1.3k Warnings: reader dies, implied suicidal thoughts and body image issues (very brief mentions for both) A/N: based on three banger lines (in bold in the fic) that @hanniedream dropped into my dms and then wrote her own amazing fic (with plot!!) that's much better than whatever this is so go read that (i'm just freeloading on bibi's big brain here)

You've always thought death was beautiful and then you’re proven right just before your very own death when he comes to take you away.

He stands there like an apparition of moonlight on a cold and rainy night, a single beam that would break the stormy skies and bring silence upon the world.

As if covered by a heavy blanket of snow, as if the time has stopped, all sound disappears from the world, from the street, from your room. You take a breath and you’re so startled you gasp again, self-conscious of the loud noise in the perfect silence.

His breathing is quiet and slow, methodical, as if he’s counting the beats of your heart before he breathes each time. It’s slow, you find, your heartbeat. Almost artificial in its steady tempo.

Somehow you feel like it’s stopped beating a long time ago, now only a memory meant to soothe you. Your body trying to save your life one last time, the memories of your cells working all together to keep you alive keep going even after their purpose was fulfilled until the last second. You look behind you - mean to look.

You can’t.

Not with the cold but gentle fingertips softly touching your jaw just as you’re about to turn back to take a look.

You’re startled again when your gaze turns towards what’s in front of you. He moved without a sound, crossing the expanse of space between you in just one second. Where are you? It feels like a dream. The split second of time between sleep and waking up, the short infinity when a lightning flashes in perfect silence and wakes you up from your sleep. You think you see stars, but they lose their shine against his eyes.

They’re the color of ice but hold the gentleness of melting snow, the water freed from its icy prison and searching for someone to embrace and mold itself against their shape. His touch is just like that snow, stealing your warmth slowly. You don’t mind it being drained as long as he keeps his fingers on your skin. He never warms up. His touch remains freezing and he looks apologetic for that. Yet there’s no reason. His cold is one of a breeze on summer’s day, a cold towel on your forehead when you’re tormented by fever.

You think you love him, death.

You understand that’s what he is. That there’s nothing that can be done about it, or about your demise. It’s not his place to decide about it, only to carry it out. He’s gentle. Quiet. As cold as his touch is, it doesn’t hurt you. You don’t remember any pain. You feel light, something akin to happiness buzzing under your skin. Elated. That’s how you feel. A reverent sort of happiness that you suppose comes after the hardship is over.

Is it an act of mercy that he won’t let you see the body that kept you alive? Or is it a rule he has to follow? You wish to see it. For all the complicated feelings you might’ve had towards it through your life, it was yours. It treated you as best as it could.

You lower your eyes like a child being scolded when his fingers stroke your cheek gently, preventing you from turning back for the second time. He’s patient. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, but you’re sure it’s not lingering on the border between life and death, between the then and the to-be. Yet you do. It’s strange. You craved death so dearly, like a sweet candy after a bitter medicine, yet now that you’re parting with life you’re hesitant. Like wondering if you forgot to take your keys with you the moment the door is closed. Only this time, there’s no one to help you. Shedding your skin, like shedding your life in the world of living, is perhaps truly an act of mercy.

Of course you weren’t prepared for death, and for what comes after. No matter how much you longed for it and wished for it at times. It feels awkward. You’re glad someone is here waiting for you, guiding you. You’re sure he’s meant to guide you. It feels familiar. Did a similar scene happen before? Your memories are so hazy, your entire life flashing through your mind on a loop. Perhaps he’s there too somewhere, waiting like he’s waiting now for you to notice him.

You raise your gaze again and meet his eyes.

You always knew there was a reason you thought about and loved death as much as you did and now that you're face to face with him, everything made sense. death was beautiful. Death is beautiful.

You wonder if someone told him before.

Slowly he lets his hand fall, tracing your skin down your neck and towards your collarbones. Then lower. He caresses your sternum until his fingers stop just below it. You shiver. Like a deer staring into the scope of a rifle, you hold his gaze. They’re kind, his eyes. He’s kind. You feel no pain.

His soft eyes reassure you and comfort you. You start crying, and you see tears pooling in his eyes too until a single one overflows. You feel cold. The cold of staying in the pool for too long. The cold of sitting in the shower after the water stopped running, the droplets cooling on your skin, barely any heat remaining trapped in the fold of your curled body. 

His lips part only slightly. You want to hear his voice but he doesn’t say anything. Your breathing is erratic and too loud, you can’t even hear him breathing. Another tear spills. His other hand comes to hold your face like he did before. Gently, a barely-there touch. His hands are always gentle. Careful not to cause pain. Something is being ripped from you with his icy touch, but it doesn’t hurt. Does it hurt him? Is he taking your pain away? If so, you wish he didn’t. Seeing him cry is like watching an angel weep. It should never happen. No matter if he’s the opposite of an angel.

It feels like an ice shard is being pulled from your body, so slowly that the sharp edges don't cut you. Something heavy is being taken from you. Something that kept the blood, the hurt, inside you. What are you going to do without it? His fingers move smoothly to hold your chin up, so you don’t see what it is that he took from you. There’s a void in your chest left behind. A black hole swallowing everything, starving to fill the emptiness. It’s not hard to guess what it was that he took from you.

One more tear falls. You want to tell him it’s okay. Instead he leans closer. His soft breath caresses your skin. You close your eyes when he’s so close you can see the web of galaxies in his irises. His lips are like petals of a frozen flower against the skin of your cheek. When you open your eyes again, he’s crying. Silently.

He extends a hand towards you, stained ruby. You take it. It’s sticky and cold. It binds you together. 

If the stain remains, if it’s never washed away, will the blood spin itself into a string that would guide you back to him?

Without an answer, you follow him. For now, you only need to hold his hand. You don’t need to look for him if he found you.

And for now, that’s enough. 

For now, you feel him. 

Later you’ll look for ways to find him too.

[hannie-dul-set]

PATIENCE, PATIENCE.

p — SIM JAEYUN x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, making out, secondhand embarrassment aka the hannie-dul-set fic triumvirate + a good amount of public indecency. 1.5k words.

requested by — anon: cocky jock (who loses that cockiness around you) x reserved student librarian (who loses that cool because of him).

note — loosely inspired by a moment from the manhwa "unstoppable hayoung" ifykyk. in a prev fic i alluded beomgyu to a mosquito, in this one jake to a pest. i think i'm seeing a pattern here.

a pest has been following you for quite some time now.

“sim jaeyun.”

his name falls icy off your tongue, prefacing it with a sharp inhale yet the man in question is unfazed. he’s trespassing the barrier that’s preventing you from socking him in the face: the front desk of the library where he’s decided to prop his arms over, leaning into the surface, smiling oh-so-handsomely at you as if you aren’t politely telling him to fuck off with your eyes alone.

then again. you don’t really expect him to understand social cues.

“for the dozenth time, please leave me alone.”

so you verbalize your intent instead.

“i can’t do that, baby,” he replies. “not until you agree to go out with me.”

you suck in a deep huff of air, close your eyes, and dig your fingers into your thighs to ward away the distress.

“just one date. please?” he prods, nudging himself closer over the desk as if the scrawls of paper you’re trying to organize aren’t as important as his incessant badgering. “are you really going to keep saying no to this face?” the face in mention looks particularly punch-able right now. you’ve always taken pride in yourself for being a very patient, patient individual. jake sim from philosophy 102 is testing that patience.

“the library is for reading,” you say through gritted teeth. patience, patience, patience. you’re a daffodil on a breezy field, a piece of driftwood on a steady river. you will not fight a man in your workplace. you will keep your job and maintain inner peace.

“i am reading,” he argues. “i’m trying to read your mind because i don’t get why you don’t want to go out with me.”

holy crap. he’s insufferable.

“i’ve already told you dozens of times, jake.” now, you don’t know a thing or two about the ball sport he does, but that pink varsity jacket is starting to look abhorrent. it’s being shoved into your face the more he tries to throw himself over your desk. a bright jarring color, unsafe for the eyes. “i don’t want to go out with you. also, i’d appreciate if you stop ruining my work.”

one of the documents got wrinkled under his elbow. his mouth opens, “oh, sorry!” and he quickly backs off, ironing the sheet with his palms. “but at least tell me why you don’t want to go out with me. you keep rejecting me with a blank face but i don’t know why.”

your upper lip twitches. 

because this is all because of a dare, that’s fucking why.

no, even that aside, the way he keeps arrogantly trying to hit on you, expecting you to just accept it and go is grinding your gears. you’re calm. you’re usually calm. but something about this guy just pushes all your buttons in one go, makes you spew out bullshit you’d never dare yourself to say to anyone else.

“hey,” your rouse. “can you kiss me right now?”

two can play at that game, bitch.

it works. it works really well because jake is suddenly as pink as his jacket. well, you don’t blame him. the library isn’t safe from gross, hormonal activities, but those are usually done in between the shelves— not at the front desk near the entrance. 

you’re mimicking his stance, leaned forward, arms crossed over the desk and all. “like— like a peck on the cheek?” he stutters.

“no. like tongue in mouth kissing me like a starved man and it’s your last meal on death row,” you clarify. it’s funny how you can see his brain circuits crashing in real time. serves him right. you let out a breath and stand up, seeing the clock tick closer to your break. you quickly gather your things and circle out from behind the desk, now in cross-armed disappointment next to your persistent pest. “this is why i don’t want to go out with you, jake. you don’t even have feelings for me. you’re doing this because your friends told you to, and i don’t—”

suddenly, you feel something soft on your lips.

suddenly, your knees are weak, your mind is fuzzy, and you’re exchanging spit with jake sim in the library lobby.

wait, you gasp into his mouth and he responds with a grunt. wait, your eyelids flutter, air knocked out of your chest that’s somehow now pressed against his because wait— this wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

how dare he actually do what you told him to? how dare he give you the best damn kiss you’ll ever have in your life? 

“what the fuck?” you breathe out in intermittent huffs, hands on his chest as you pull yourself back. jake’s hazy eyes are looking at you in a way that makes your brain jump in circles, coupled by the arm that he has looped around your lower back. he’s crazy. he’s fucking crazy. “why— why would you do that?!”

“you told me to kiss you!”

“and you did?!”

your eyes widen at the volume of your own voice, quickly slapping a hand over your swollen lips, but making noise is at the bottom of your library sins today. you see your supervisor’s attention on you from the corner of your eye, and your face flushes. “why would you go this far for a dare?” you say in a quieter voice, still manic, still frantic, and jake flinches hard when you jab a finger to his chest. “you’re nuts, you’re actually nuts, oh my god—”

“wait, what do you mean dare?” your finger seems to be hurting him because he grabs your wrist and brings your hand down. “a dare? a dare to do what?”

you seethe. “don’t play dumb with me, jake. overheard you and your little soccer friends last time—”

“it’s football—”

“i don’t care.” your voice is getting louder again. jake flinches once more. “the problem here is you keep asking me out to date you because your soccer friends are betting on who can bed the quiet library assistant first and— and i’m not going to play dumb just because you’re a good kisser. i’m angry and disgusted and—”

“do you mind continuing your argument outside?”

your mouth is hanging open, paused mid-speech. when you peer to your left, you see that your supervisor has teleported right next to you. oh, god. there goes your job. jake apologizes for the both of you and skews your frozen figure out the door. you’re screwed. your patience could handle six months at starbucks and three months babysitting three toddlers, but i cannot handle one sim jaeyun.

“so,” the perpetrator’s voice snaps you back to reality. you’re both now outside the library, and he’s looking at you with a smugness that begs a kick to the balls. “you think i kiss good.”

your face bitters. “is that your only takeaway from all that?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i also got that you’re rightfully mad at me for something i have to clear up.”

here we go. you’re curious to see what excuses he’ll make, how many sorry’s he’ll impart, and if he’ll get down on his knees. jake. but his starting words aren’t what you’re hoping for. “there isn’t a bet,” he starts. “my teammates were just trying to tease me because i didn’t have the balls to ask you out. dumb, i know, but they were dumber because they were all like, ‘if you don’t make a move soon, we will, blah, blah, blah’ to provoke me so—”

jake is matching his varsity jacket again.

“long story short, i made them run fifteen laps and decided to get it over with by asking you out on a date.”

you’re brought back to the first instance jake had asked you out— it was in the lecture hall, right after class, and he was wearing the same pink jacket that at this point seems like his second skin. the color isn’t as jarring as you initially thought.

“but rejection didn’t feel nice. so i thought i’d try again.”

you narrow your eyes. “again, as in like, eight times?”

“you counted?” he muses. you are unamused. he clears his throat and continues. “you’re always so calm and collected, but your eyebrows would furrow and your face would scrunch up whenever i threw you the question. it’s cute. i got addicted. you can’t pin all the blame on me.”

you let his words simmer, and with each passing second of silence jake grows more nervous, fidgeting in wait. you decide to spare him the agony, letting out a deep and heavy sigh. “okay. you’re forgiven.”

it’s instantaneous how his face lights up. now, you’re the one flinching.

“nice! does that mean we’re dating now? can i kiss you again?”

“now hold on,” you stop him, mildly appalled, mostly flustered. “i said i forgive you. i never said we can start making out in a public area again.”

he bats his eyes at you. “in private then?” 

you want to hit him. you want to hit him so bad. sim jaeyun is the pest that has been following you for quite some time now. you fear that at this point, there’s no getting rid of him now.

PATIENCE, PATIENCE. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[sminiac]

hey! It's 🪱

How vocal are p1h in bed??:)

Warnings — Smut focused, MDNI.

Hi honey! Since Keeho’s noisy in general (lol) he keeps a steady pour of expletives between his moans and sharp intakes of air that prevent any lack of oxygen getting to his brain that might happen if he didn’t make the conscious effort to do so. Defaults to a series of “Fuck you feel so good baby.” And “G’na fuck you full.” When his brain starts to fail him on assembling any significant or weighty thing to say.

He’s more of a moaner, has a pitchy voice so it’s only natural he falls under a more whinier category opposed to rough grunts and growls, if you like someone who unintentionally makes slutty whimper sounds he’s your guy! A lot of the time he does it because he eventually picks up on the affect it has on you, doesn’t necessarily realize what letting out a dramatic sultry sound when you’re barely ghosting at his cock really does though, until you’re making the sounds authentic.

⋆ C. Taeyang

Also one that’s loud outside of bed = loud in bed, but! He makes you really work for it. Theo doesn’t let himself meltdown under your touch so easily, surprisingly he has really good self discipline, so a good duration of time spent is with you coaxing him into finding his voice, reminding him that it’s okay while he’s rapidly shaking his head, teeth sunken tightly into his lip to withhold the ample collection of indirect praise and expressions of his pleasure from your ears.

Controversial opinion, but he’s a sobber. Sobbing, tears, it’s always a mix- like rain and snow, except it can never just be one or the other. Even if it’s not a punishment, in your most genuine of actions that you want to give him a handjob, sensitive thing, he just can’t handle it! Constantly begging, pawing at your sleeves with big glossy clumps of tears in his eyes and down his skin while your slick hand works his cock, what he’s asking you for? You have no idea, and you’re starting to think he never will either. He’s just always wanting something, even as simple as your eyes on his face, he just weeps and cries about how impossibly good you make him feel, and it’s a frequent problem because he’s a little too loud for his own good.

⋆ C. Jiung

He’s arguably the quietest amongst the 4 so it’s such a treat when he’s nuzzling himself close to your ear, allowing you to hear the faint whimpers and soft groans in the back of his throat, they aren’t over excessive, or exaggerated for the sake of your pleasure, he merely allows himself to relax significantly more and to get lost in the feeling of your cunt welcoming him in so warmly. He’s quite literally only for you to hear, won’t even allow himself to reach a volume where he’s at risk of being heard by anyone else, lets you know you’re the first and probably the last to ever hear him like this. He’s just so lovey, gate-keeps himself for you :b

Jiung’s more of a talker, but even then small in scale of noise level. He’s incredibly good with breathing control so a moan or two doesn’t really have time to mistakingly slip through, if he’s not making subconscious sounds then he’s telling you, and his explanations can get very descriptive sometimes, to a point where you think you’d rather hear him talk for the rest of your life about how good you feel, how pretty you are instead of a loud obnoxious cry and whatnot. Once you hear him huffing out a breathy “Fuck.” You know he’s close to sinking away from the physical hold of his skin and to a blissful level that he’s never even caught a glimpse of without you, the way his hips piston forward with a new profound energy that lacks direction speaks to you that he’s so hellbent on catching a lick of his orgasm. Stupid and so pretty, almost drooling out a weak chant of “Good, good! s’fucking good sweetheart.” He just babbles and babbles.

⋆ H. Intak

The hardest to place into a category and keep him there. A complete wildcard, one day you’re getting more deep chest produced sounds that are coupled with mean words and a rough hand, the next he’s moaning with a slight rasp to his tone, so gentle and keen on taking care of you- or a thorough mix of both. He’s very multifaceted when in bed, I think this pertains to more than just how loud he can be, always suggesting new things to try, which bleeds into his dialogue and arsenal of established noises. Unlike Jiung, he isn’t very deliberate about his delivery in letting you hear his voice, he just lets whatever it is go that he feels barreling its way through the back of his throat.

He’s a healthy mix of quiet and loud, always has a good few surprises for you whenever he’s fucking into you or allowing you to use him without any rules or restrictions. When you’re using him for your own needs he’s very softly spoken whilst praising you, telling you how good you’re doing, that he wants to watch you fuck yourself into cumming all over him. When he’s the one who has the ‘upper hand’ only very few words are said besides degrading and insulting you for letting him fuck you like this, letting him move you in whichever position he wants, obeying his every request, then he’s more of a groaner, even laughs at you.

ᰔ sminiac’s P1Harmony M.list

[connabeth]

rick really woke up and said "what if i give the people what they want for once" and gave us grumpy black cat introvert percy and sunshine golden retriever extrovert annabeth we never knew we needed

also no one's talking about how percy made friends with annabeth's college's security guard (Florence or smthn?) so he's the only one allowed to walk in her campus anytime?

also I found a typo in the third chapter where dave was accidentally called paul which I found really funny

1) i’m glad this series is doing justice to annabeth’s personality because she spent so much of pjo & hoo caught in an inner turmoil of hurt and uncertainty and self-loathing and insecurity and fear given the circumstances of luke’s betrayal and percy’s imminent death. in spite of it all, she was still a bastion of hope and light throughout those books, but she deserves to be silly and unburdened by the weight of the world now that she has percy back and there’s no big prophecy (unresolved trauma aside). i think, in her mind, even though new, crazy things keep being thrown at them and she most certainly deals with a latent fear of losing percy at any moment, she’s resolute and confident that they can overcome anything that gets in their way of their dream of going to college and finding peace together because she feels that invigorated and wants it that bad. even if greco-egyptian gods or a triple goddess or a mortal apollo pop up throughout their senior year. i feel like she’s giving herself the freedom to just let go, breathe, be sure everything will be okay in the end, and just be excited about things without drowning in worry for once, which i love. she deserves to feel that childlike enthusiasm she was deprived of for so long. her confidence that they’ll be okay extends to percy being able to complete all his classwork and applications, which in turn reinforces his determination.

2) as for percy, he’s definitely the more outwardly insecure out of the two, mainly because of how his academic prowess pales in comparison to hers and the fact that he feels he doesn’t deserve her and she’s way better than him. percy thinking her SODNYC friends perceive him in the same critical light obviously isn’t helping. it’s evident in the way he’s amazed when he looks at her, disbelieving for a second that she’s his girlfriend, and how he observes her interaction with others more similar to her, feeling like an outsider who can’t understand that part of her brain the way her friends can. it’s even more abundantly clear when he believes “She would always succeed whether I was around or not,” which in theory is a sweet sentiment to have about your very capable girlfriend, but academic and social success aside, she needs him as much as he needs her and she’d see no point in being in california without him. but his insecurities and easy jealousy prevent him from fully understanding this even if he innately knows it’s a universal truth that they’re meant to be together. however, all this being said, percy’s characterization in wottg so far is a little…weird. in order for you to literally pee your pants, something must scare you or catch you off guard really, really bad. so while it makes sense for him to fear a powerful goddess, wetting his boxers seems like an extreme reaction. i know rick was probably just trying to insert immature humor, but the implications are not what he was going for considering this is the boy who didn’t have that reaction staring down titans and giants and nyx and tartarus himself. so forgive me if i think it’s a little insane that percy having such a visceral reaction to a goddess 13 year old hazel fared well against is out of character, even after taking into consideration his fear of not receiving and completing the remaining quests on time. it makes sense for him to be nervous and on edge, given the quiet of the past month, but that amount of fear towards a deity who’s not the most scary thing he’s faced down is an interesting choice since rick isn’t known for realistic depictions of PTSD and that likely isn’t the intention here. it’s also curious how it’s implied even a goddess as primordial as aphrodite caves in to hecate…

3) florence is the goat and i love percy making random friends to help his cause. he doesn’t go out of his way to befriend others in the mortal world unless they approach him first or there’s an opportunity there. and the fact that annabeth can a casually ask her friend to cover for her being gone from her dorm for several days makes me think this is far from the first time she’s snuck out for prolonged periods of time👀

4) this is an INSANE typo to have in a book because clearly not a single person proofread it and it doesn’t surprise me that it got past rick, but becky and several rounds of editors and everyone else in his circle who’s read the book not picking up on it prior to publication is wild. rick is too eager to have his self-insert be everywhere and it shows💀

[yuri-is-online]

...so you just threw this beautiful idea of Fyuuture kid, and left me with a brainrot? Especially after you answered one ask with i quote "he loves his parent so much and was really fighting it to keep it together when he saw them alive again" end of the quote. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN? WHAT? HOW?

ask 1 and ask 2

Oh 👉👈? I wasn't expecting to get an ask about this au ever again actually, but I am so glad you did, I like it a lot. I mentioned Fire Emblem Awakening in the first ask I got about it but for those of you who haven't played the game, the plot features the children of your army traveling back in time to try and prevent the end of the world. That's more or less what happened in the fyuuture kid au, at least in my first draft... I always end up associating the "future kid meets their parents" trope with either FE: Awakening or I guess Golden Sun? Which I think is the name of the jrpg where something similar happens idk I just like there being a reason for the kid to need to meet their parents.

In my original draft of the au, Yuu was told by Crowley there was no way home for them, so they settled down with Yutu's father and started building a life together. This turned out to not be true, as the Magical Marshall's office began investigating the overblots that happened while Yuu was in school and came to the conclusion Yuu had something to do with them; so they were secretly arrested, cursed to forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, and sent home. The curse was meant to trigger every time Yuu vaguely remembered their time in the otherworld, with the idea their brain would prevent them from thinking about it after a while. They would have justified it, if anyone had been there to ask, by saying Yuu wouldn't know they were missing anything and would be able to live a happy life. When Yutu was born that made that outcome impossible, but the Marshal's office didn't think to check if Yuu was pregnant...

Shortly after they did that though strange things started happening. Monster attacks got more frequent, blot levels started rising, not to extremes immediately but still enough to be concerning. Reports of a strange, abyssal magic using beast, started pouring in to S.T.Y.X. suspiciously close to Grim's description. While Yuu was busy trying to put their life back together in their world, Twisted Wonderland slowly began to fall apart drowning under an ink colored sky. The overblot phantoms they fought come back and begin hunting in their respective homelands, and rumor has it they can turn certain mages into their thralls...

The curse slowly eats away at Yuu's brain, every time they see something that reminds them of their friends, their time at NRC, every time Yutu does something that would make them think about how much he takes after his dad, they feel a great deal of physical pain and temporarily lose the ability to function. It's killing them, and no doctor or specialist can figure out the cause, so Yutu just has to sit there and watch his parent slowly die and not be able to do anything about it. I was uncertain of where exactly I wanted Yuu to die in the story, but it always was around when Yutu gets isekaid to NRC, either before and he had to leave them behind or after when they both get to go home finally! But Yuu doesn't completely make it, they're able to have one moment of peace with their son and Professor Crewel before passing on.

Yutu's dad changes depending on who you want it to be of course, as does whether they met before he and his friends decided to go back in time to prevent this version of the future from ever happening, but his feelings about Yuu never changes. Yutu really admires his parent, he did even before he learned about them facing down overblots! They were really close and the more he learned about their curse, the more responsible he felt for their death. He's very determined to keep Yuu alive and safe in Twisted Wonderland in this timeline, even if it costs him his life.

His opinion on his dad really changes depending on who it is and what he learns about them. Like can you imagine learning your dad was known for being obsessed with teeth and no he had no intention of being a dentist? Clown behavior 💀💀💀 His friends were all ocs I made but never really developed... I do remember that one was a younger sibling of Kalim's (who could be his aunt if you like Kalim and absolutely embraces that role), her retainer, Crewel's son who also sees himself as Yutu's uncle (the feeling isn't mutual) because he is old enough to sort of remember Yuu and thinks of them as a sibling, and a random oc I based off of the kid from Up for no reason other than I like the movie. They also came back in time, but only Yutu ended up in the right place, just like fire emblem awakening.

idk I should probably do something with it. like writing the reactions for the other dorms...

[jennifer-jeong]

hii could i request like a little drabble or headcanons for racer L&DS characters? the idea been eating away in my mind for soooo long😭😭

HELLO ANON THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASK, I SHALL END THE EATING OF YOUR BRAIN (that sounded weird but you get me). I don’t know too much about F1 (my information source is instagram reels where the racers are shitposting) but I’ll try my best to get the memes and thirst correct hehe.

Fluff + Crack | Racer!LADS x Reader Racer Boyfriend

CONTENT Fluff, crack, gender neutral reader, the boys are F1 racers in cunty jumpsuits, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

RAFAYEL is your typical babygirl racer man. I swear this is an entire sub population of F1 racers and I love them. He’s ALWAYS winking or kissing at the cameras and looks so zesty when he poses with his hands on his hips (especially because he’s in that tiny jumpsuit). He drives his fans crazy and they make so many edits of him LOL *cue velocity edit of him taking his helmet off. He gets very serious during races though, he’s a top racer, and can get pretty riled up when things go wrong. If you were dating the man, expect to get spoiled and shown off A LOT. He’d protect you from paparazzi and crazy fans but will never stop flexing how pretty you are on his socials. Of course you reciprocate and he thinks its so cute when you make little photo edits of you two with hearts all over them.

ZAYNE is actually kind of a mystery man. He bursts onto the scene with immediate top 3 finishes in all the big races but never takes off his helmet. He’s always calm and only ever really gives a small thumbs up to cameras and nothing more. The mask kink crazies (me) are going feral over this man. His jumpsuit shows off his muscle and his voice is absurdly deep, bro has it all. When he does finally take off his helmet, it’s due to a crash and cracked helmet. The medical team needs to check his head so he has to remove it. He starts trending on twitter after that day. No wonder he hid his face this whole time. If you’re his partner he’d definitely tell you that he only wanted you to see him without the mask. He treats you like a princess, publicly escorting you places and always holding your hand. You cheer him on from the VIP suite at every single race.

XAVIER has been the longest standing champion despite all the hate. Of course he has a lot of fans as well but being in the spotlight so much naturally brings negativity. He purposely acts aloof and stupid to piss off his haters more when he inevitably wins the world cup. Those who really know him though are fully aware that he’s just acting. He’s unbelievably good at the sport and he does it all without breaking a sweat (not literally, like he actually sweats a lot LOL). There's definitely compilations of him breaking character during interviews where he actually says something intelligent or when he accidentally rizzes up his interviewer. If you two were dating it would probably just be a really sweet relationship that all his fans adore. Even the haters would probably think you’re pretty or be jealous. He tried to shield you from bad press and you think it's so cute he cares about you instead of himself in these situations. You of course do all you can to prevent paparazzi from getting to him too but he'll still kiss you in front of them.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[mrkis]

sensitive. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: fluff, smut WORD COUNT: 1.9k

SYNOPSIS: mark gets a boner from a simple kiss and you decide to help him out

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, oral (giving), blowjob, slight hair tugging, small mention of spit, big cock mark always, exhibitionism maybe?

A.N: this has been requested. i'm not taking requests at the moment so please refrain from sending anything in. i wrote this because i am currently in mark brain and had ideas. also this took me like eight hours because @markiedub accidentally kept deleting it when she was reading lmao

You sigh softly as you check your appearance in the sun visor mirror of your car, fingertips brushing the corner of your lips to get rid of any excess lipstick that might’ve smeared during the journey and that your mascara hasn’t smudge across your eyelids. 

You had rushed your makeup when Mark had asked you out on a last minute date out of the blue and you were desperate to go out and see him, rushing around your bedroom to find the most suitable and clean clothing, and applying your makeup at the uttermost speed. You were so eager to see him that you really didn’t think twice about your appearance, not until you were parked outside the restaurant in the parking lot with only a few minutes left to spare before you had to make it inside for your dinner reservation. 

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure I look okay” You tell him, framing the hairs around your face and your shoulders slump in defeat. “I don’t feel okay”

Mark’s lips curl into a frown, “Why?”

“I rushed getting ready before picking you up, so my makeup is all messy and my outfit looks stupid, and—”

“No it doesn’t” Mark interrupts your rambling, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he admires you from the passenger seat. “I think you look pretty, really pretty” You side eye him and Mark immediately laughs, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he smiles wider. “Yo, I’m serious… you look gorgeous”

Your head slowly turns to him as your heart swells at his compliment, the adoration and affection pooling in Mark’s eyes is enough to have you throw yourself over the console and grab at his face to plant your lips on his. Mark’s exclamation of surprise is muffled against your lips, not expecting you to kiss him so suddenly before he lets himself melt into your touch, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, craning his neck to kiss you deeper, with more meaning and love, with urgency. 

Every kiss you share with Mark is like the first, slow and tender. His lips make you feel dizzy, like you’re intoxicated and you yearn for so much more yet it never escalates further than a steamy make-out session with wandering hands that fail to go beneath the clothes. You don’t mind, to be honest, you didn’t want to force or rush into something that might make Mark stray away from you. The relationship between you two is new to you both, only having been official for a few weeks, so there wasn’t really any need to rush into anything… although, there were moments where you wanted him. Badly. 

As always, you’re the first to move away from the kiss and you snicker when Mark follows your lips, his own still puckered and waiting for you to return. You give him one quick peck before announcing you two should probably wait inside, making sure the engine is off and unbuckling your seatbelt to leave.

“Wait!!” The raised tone of Mark’s voice startles you and you jump when he reaches over to latch onto your wrist to prevent you from opening the car door. You freeze your movements, staring over at Mark with concern swimming in your eyes, wondering what’s going on and what was wrong for him to react in such a certain way.

You take note of the way his cheeks are tinted pink and how his neck is flushed, his chest raising and dropping frantically with each heavy breath he takes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish and the sight would’ve been laughable if you wasn’t too worried about his sudden outburst.

You watch as Mark struggles to form a sentence, the grip his fingers has on your wrist tightens as his head ducks down to his lap and your eyes follow slowly, widening as they see the obvious tent in his pants.

Your hand rips out of Mark’s grip as you slap it over your mouth to conceal your laughter which makes Mark grow even more red.

“Wait—I just—It’s like—I can’t control it!! It just happened!!” Mark panics, his hands waving in the air frantically before he grips the hem of his shirt, pulling it down to cover the bulge as he refuses to look you in the eyes. “I swear, I have no control over it, it just—”

“Mark, it’s okay” You reassure him as you remove your hand from your mouth, unable to hide the smile on your lips. Truthfully, you’re a little flattered that a simple kiss can make Mark react in such a certain way. It boosts your ego immensely and the thoughts that run through your mind are wild. 

He continues to act bashful, tugging his shirt down further but the friction of his shirt rubbing against the material of his jeans makes him still, his eyes widening as a stifled grunt seeps from his lips. 

“Mark…” You call his name softly and his head turns to look at you. You feel a little confident, maybe too confident as you say your next words, “Do you want me to help you?”

He blinks at you, “Wh—wait, what? What do you me—wait, no, oh my god, you don’t have to do that!! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be—jesus christ!”

Mark curses loudly when you decide to bravely place your hand on his thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath your fingers as you lean closer to him. His eyes dart between your hand and you nearing towards him, unsure of where to look until your nose is barely brushing against his own.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?”

Mark swallows thickly and blinks, seeming not to trust his own voice as his head slowly bobs in a short nod, letting go of his shirt and dropping his hands to the side limply, watching as you work at the button of his jeans, popping it open and carefully dipping your hand beneath the waistband, cupping him through his boxers.

He exhales deeply, relaxing into the seat as he watches your ministrations with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth with his fists clenched at his side. You’re giddy as you free his hard cock from the restraints of his boxers, the size of him sending a buzz to your core and you meet his eyes with a surprised grin.

“What?” He questions with a quiet voice.

“Nothing. You just got a pretty cock to look at” 

Mark sheepishly smiles, unable to look you in the eyes as his chin tucks into his chest, cheeks dusting a slight pink once again but his mouth pops open with a short gasp as you slowly begin to pump his cock, hovering your lips above his cock and letting a wad of spit sit at the tip, using your thumb to smear it over the slit and head of his cock.

The sound of him whispering curse words through airy gasps is enough to urge you downwards, taking his tip into your mouth for a hesitant taste before pushing your head further down, taking his cock down your throat and swallowing around him as best as you can, wrapping your fist around the base.

“Oh my—fuck, oh my god” Mark whimpers out loud, pressing his fists to his mouth and biting down on his skin. You struggle not to smile at the effect you have on him as you bob your head, exaggeratingly moaning to send vibrations down his cock and his hips jerk upwards, a guttural sound coming from your throat as he accidentally chokes you with his movements.

He babbles out apologies after apologies, his hand coming down to affectionately smooth the back of your head, his fingers getting tangled in your hair and he tugs without realising when you hollow your cheeks around him, the burn on your scalp sending a shiver down your spine.

“Feel good?” You ask him once you let up for a moment to breath, using your hand to jerk him off as you look up at Mark who’s eyes struggle to stay open and he nods, untangling his fingers out of your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip and you lay a gentle kiss on the pad of his thumb. He smiles at that, head lolling to the side and resting against the foggy window.

You completely forget that you’re currently giving Mark head in a public parking lot and usually, under any different circumstance, you’d stop everything and probably drive away out of pure embarrassment from possibly getting caught. But seeing the euphoric look on Mark’s face and how strangely nice it feels to have him in your throat, you don’t care. You almost wouldn’t mind anyone walking by and catching the two of you in this position. 

“I think I’m gonna cum soon” Mark breathes out shakily. “Shit—no I’m definitely gonna cum soon”

“That’s okay” You coo, sending him a sweet smile before you swallow around him once again, tightening your throat around his cock and he whimpers loudly, his hand coming up to rest on the top of your head again.

“Where—fuck—where do you want me to, like, cum?” He asks you, and you hope he gets the hint when you bob your head faster, his cock fucking your throat raw. Mark calls out your name softly, tugging your hair slightly to pull you off of him but you resist, shoving your head further down, your nose brushing against his stomach and he moans. “Wait, wait, wait… you want me to… you want me to cum down your throat?”

You hum around him for confirmation.

“Fuck… fuck that’s so hot” Mark whines under his breath. He allows you to do as you please as his hand falls from the back of your head to find your free hand that's resting on his knee, his fingers intertwining tightly with yours, his thumb dragging over your knuckles in small circles and the second you squeeze his hand back, to tell him that you’ve got him, he cums in thick spurts down your throat with a moan.

He’s shivering and trembling beneath you but you take no notice when you’re too busy making sure you’ve swallowed every drop he’s giving you, sucking him dry until he physically can’t give you anymore and is begging for you to release him. 

His cock falls from your mouth with a plop and you sit up in your seat, glancing at the sun visor mirror like you did earlier before, stifling a laugh as you realise how badly you’ve definitely ruined your makeup this time, grabbing a few cleansing wipes that you had in your glove compartment, trying to clean yourself up as best as you possibly can even though there was no use.

Mark’s panting heavily beside you, his body jerking as he comes down from his high and he tucks himself back into his boxers. He buttons up his jeans as he turns to look at you and you meet his eyes when you finish wiping your makeup completely off.

“I think we missed our dinner reservation” You chuckle as you check the time. “Sorry”

“That’s a shame” Mark says. “I’m still hungry”

“We can go get takeout—”

“No. Not for that” Mark shakes his head quickly. “For something else. Something better”

“Better?” You repeat, raising your eyebrow suggestively as you lean back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what would that be?”

“You”

©mrkis

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Eleven - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, and Chapter Ten! Masterlist :)

Chapter Eleven - What Every Guy Says

While Tyler blew the end of a hot dog on fire, you grabbed two more beers out of the cooler. Even though the shack was small, you enjoyed the simplicity of it; not having any neighbors for miles and miles on end. Granted, being 30 minutes from the closest small town wasn’t the best if you needed something from the grocery store. 

As much as you were excited for Tyler to meet your parents, what if they didn’t like him? Or what if it didn’t work and he just ended up hurting you, even if he did reassure you he wasn’t going to? No amount of comforting words or physical actions could prevent your brain from the negative waves hitting you. Years of trauma and empty promises kept your heart under lock and key. Where did that key go? You had no idea, for all you knew it was taken away in a tornado for Mother Nature to hold onto. 

You were still timid, you knew there was something special to be had with Tyler. Even though you were scared, you were that much more excited. 

“What is that pretty mind thinking about now?” He asked, sitting next to you and handing you a plate with two semi-burnt hot dogs. 

“Oh you know, all my trauma,” you said, taking a sip of your beer. 

“When you’re comfortable, you can share it with me,” he said, stabbing his hot dog with a plastic fork and biting the end off. 

“We’ll see about that,” you sighed, gently pressing the fork into your dog. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him everything you had gone through in your short lifespan. Most of the things had been shoved so far back in your memory archives that they only were brought out when you were in a very dark place.

“Someday, darlin’,” he said, taking a drink of his beer and looking over at you with a goofy grin. 

“What’s your middle name?” You asked, trying to change the topic to anything but you.

“James, you?” He said, taking a bite of his hot dog. 

“(Y/m/n),” you said, finishing your first. 

“(Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/l/n),” he said to himself softly, “I like it, but it would sound better with Owens.” 

“That’s what every guy has said,” you said, poking your fork through the last dog and tossing your paper plate into the fire. 

“Ouch,” he said softly, “I thought we established that I’m not like every guy.” 

“Again, what every guy says,” you said, looking over at him with a slight smirk. 

“I’m not winning this, am I?” He asked, hanging his head and then looking over at you. 

“Nope,” you said, leaning back in your chair and sipping on your beer. 

“Gotcha,” he said, finishing off his beer and tossing it into the fire. 

“What would you want to do if you couldn’t chase anymore?” You asked while looking into the fire. 

This brought a silence over him, he had never really thought about what he would do. He only ever thought about what his life would be like after. 

“I guess maybe a rancher or a trainer for people who want to ride bulls,” he said, leaning back in his seat, “What about you?” 

You smiled slightly as you had thought about it more often than you’d like to admit. Throughout your life, you’ve always had a backup plan for anything you strived to achieve fell out from beneath you. 

“I’d take over my parents' cattle farm,” you said, leaning your head back and then looking up at the horizon which was painted various shades of red, orange, yellow, and some blue, “Be able to start a family with whoever I end up with, have them grow up on the farm I was raised on and doing the same stinky chores I had to do.” 

He laughed softly, “That sounds like quite the plan, princess.” 

“I’ve given it some thought,” you said, taking your phone out of your back pocket and getting up. 

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” He asked, tossing his plate into the fire. 

“To capture the sunset, even if it won’t do it justice,” you said, walking over beside the shack to get the trees out of your way and raising your phone. 

While you were preoccupied with getting the perfect picture of the sunset, Tyler was getting one of you. He smiled at his phone screen. It was his perfect picture. You, Ol’ Red, and the shack that was his second home all in one picture. He made it his lock screen and made the one of you asleep on the couch his home screen. 

“You got any pets back home?” He asked, 

“Yeah, two golden retrievers,” you said, walking back to him and scooting your chair a little closer to his. 

“Names or do I have to wait to meet them?” He laughed, setting his phone down and grabbing another beer. 

“Willie and Waylon,” you said, finishing your beer and leaning into your seat. 

“Like Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings?” He asked, handing you a bottle. 

“Yeah,” you said, twisting the top off. 

“That’s cute,” he said, “I have a Saint Bernard at home with my aunt.” 

“Name?” You asked slightly mocking Tyler, “Or do I have to wait to meet them?” 

He laughed, “Cash.” 

“Like Johnny?” You asked, playing with the label on the beer.

“Exactly,” he said, stretching his legs out and grabbing your hand that was playing with the label. 

“Should get a female and name her June,” you said, “Like Johnny and June.” 

“Maybe someday,” he said, “He’s still pretty young, like two years old.” 

“Ah, Willie and Waylon are brothers. From different litters, but only two years apart,” you said, “Willie is five and Waylon is three.” 

“Sounds like we’ll have a good mix,” he said, “Cash was a rescue after a tornado went through… He wasn’t chipped and had no collar. The team and I asked around for what felt like weeks with no answers. So he became my little buddy, but he became so terrified of storms I decided to keep him with my aunt.” 

“Poor thing,” you said softly, “I’m glad you found him and gave him a good home though.” 

“Oh yeah, he gets spoiled rotten,” he laughed, “It gives me peace of mind with my aunt being home alone.” 

“You and your aunt seem pretty close,” you said, looking over at him. 

“Yeah, she’s a second mother to me,” he said softly, “After my parents passed she was all I had.” 

“I’m sorry, Ty,” you sighed softly, squeezing his hand. 

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago. I’ve come to terms with it,” he said, squeezing your hand back. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that it happened and it’s a horrible thing for a person to go through, especially at such a young age,” you said, looking over at him while he stared into the flames. 

“I know it doesn’t, and as much as it may still hurt, I know I can’t do anything to bring them back besides to join them,” he said, “But I have too much blue sky ahead of me to do that.” 

You couldn’t help but tear up at the man who you were starting to view as indestructible with tears welling in his eyes. You leaned over and placed your lips to his cheek softly, putting your hand on his other cheek. You knew someday you would experience the pain of losing your parents, but it was a pain you didn’t want to face just yet in life. 

“I’m so sorry, Ty,” you whispered against his cheek, not knowing what else to say.

“Baby, don’t be,” he said, wiping his eyes, “Besides, I have the Wranglers, my aunt, Cash, and now you to live for.”

Want more? Here's Chapter Twelve!

Tag List: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg

[tcustodisart]

How do you think Connie and shadow heart reacted to each others first deaths? And what encounter did each of them first need a res from?

Thank you Satan for this ask/j

I'll start with Shadowheart because I don't remember her dying in my game so there's no specific encounter (I always made her kinda tanky + mostly fighting in ranged + I always send the bird companion to help her). But hypothetically Connie would rush to her as quickly as he can. He knows he can revive her, he has the scroll on him, but he's still very nervous, his hands and voice shaking making it almost impossible to use the scroll.

Connie, oh baby, I actually thought about it and it was inspired by something that happened in my first playthrough. It was the fight against Mystic Carrion, Connie somehow had stacked Bone Chill on him (prevent target from healing), he was already unconscious. So the fight was over, and I still had like 2137 turns of bone chill left, I was unable to heal him and he just died. Now, imagine Shadowheart trying desperately to heal him, seeing that nothing works as the life fades from his eyes :) (it was also right after the long rest where she tells you about her plans for after defeating the brain, so oof).