#will try and do some other fuck around and find out bullshit tomorrow but i need to take a fuckin nap

[jekyllnahyena]

have some more self insert nonsense for my funsies specifically n fucking about with brushes <3

[ynsvnte]

Everyone adores you (at least I do) — Park Jongseong

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, wc: 868 warnings: swearing, pet names, kissing, arguing, pairing: bff!Jay x fem!reader

Synopsis: Your were always well liked growing up even by Jay. Having a huge crush on you and trying to show signals. until that’s when he had enough.

Sing along at Lispenard St. (Series Masterlist)

Jay smiled hearing your giggles. Oh how downright bad this boy was for you. Little backstory, You and Jay grow up being neighbors and your parents thought about inviting their new neighbors over to welcome them. When you both first met, you both clicked instantly. Having a friend around during the weekends was great. As you and Jay were insuperable, growing up everyone knew how much Jay liked you. Everyone expect, you. You did like Jay at one point but just gave up as one of your friends also liked him too and you thought she deserved him more (she got rejected) Now in university you both are going to the same university. Still insuperable.

“Hey Jay look..” you show Jay your phone, a video of a puppy that you thought was adorable. Jay gets closer and watches the video. Laughing at the cute puppy. “Hmm, very cute..” He said. You turn off your phone and sit up. “So are you doing anything..this weekend..?” You asked Jay, curious what he's been up to. “Nothing really, just might just stay indoors all day maybe..” your mouth widens. “Staying indoors..? Jay you got to be kidding me. You should go out with your friends and find yourself a girlfriend..” your words seemed pathetic to him. Girlfriend? Who is he to find one when he has you..that’s if the feeling is mutual of course. “Yn look I’m not looking for someone right now..” all lies he wants you. “Whatever” you roll your eyes at him. Jay could only hope that one day you could realize his feelings for you..

2 days later..

You and Jay are now in his dorm room. Working on assignments that are due tomorrow. “Some professors should fucking rot in hell.” You muttered, making Jay laugh. “Yeah..but watch that pretty mouth of yours..” he warns. He glances over to you. Noticing you didn’t react to his words. He only signs before going back to work. Trying to ignore the feeling of annoyance.

1 week later

Jay visits you unexpectedly.

“Hey..” he said awkwardly. You wave at him allowing him inside. “So what brings you here?” You asked him. “Nothing just bored sweetheart.” Sweetheart..this made you blush a bit but you ignore the feeling. Jay settles down onto your sofa getting comfortable.

“Hey now you’re the guest..” you say giving him a glare.. “yeah but this is like my second home.” You shake your head in disappointment before sitting down next to Jay. Turning on the tv.

“You know I had one girl ask me if we’re dating..” you spoke up. It wasn’t new for others to think you both were dating. Everyone was convinced you were together. Just by the way you both interact with each other. “Oh..” Jay said.. He wishes it was real..

“It would be weird if we dated..” okay ouch..Jay wished deeply how you see his feelings and his thoughts about you. To him you were the most perfect person in the world. Jay goes silent. Making you worried.

“You alright..?” You asked him.. jay nodded a bit before speaking up.

“Are you sure it would be weird if we dated..” Jay's tone was stern, making you shiver a bit. “Y-yeah..”

“And how would it be weird?” He asked, that question caught you off guard. “Well to be truthfully honest. I don’t know.. I mean you don’t like me-“

“Says who..?” Huh..? What does he mean by that.. “what..?” Okay now you’re very confused. “How do you know I don’t like you..” Well you don’t have any good reason at all you just assume because you thought Jay would never like you. Especially considering a lot of girls like him. “W-well i-i don’t know..” Jay only sighs in frustration.

“Yn..this is all bullshit..Yn I want to say this..I like you. More than a friend..I keep giving you hints hoping you would notice one day. But no you never do. I liked you for years. And yet you want to say it would be weird? Yn we’ve known each other for so long..” what.. his words shocked you. You face him with your eyes wides

“Huh-..” you’re only shocked. Not knowing your crush likes you back. Yeah after all you couldn’t move on. “You like me..?” You asked him. “Yes..” Jay says, looking straight at you. You only looked down at your lap. Before you feel a hand touch your face, grazing your cheek. You move your head slightly before seeing Jay's face close to yours. You and Jay both make eye contact. Not breaking it.

“C-can I..?” Jay asked. You only nodded your head. You feel his lips meet yours. His lips felt so nice. You move your arms and wrap it around his neck. And you feel him move, making you sit on his lap. You feel him wrap his arms around your waist. Pulling you closer. You both kiss for a few more minutes before pulling away. Both gasping for air. Jay pulls you into a hug..

“I love you…” he says softly into your ear.. you sink into his hug and kiss his cheek

“I love you too..” ahh young love.

Author’s note: went overboard with Jay sorry but 800+ without me not losing motivation something is wrong.. 🦧 or it’s bc my drafts is filled and it’s annoying me so much

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[ax-y10]

irritating interests

in which; a rivalry becomes a romance

requested by @phxntomsdusk; wilbur x reader, enemies to lovers, highschool tropes. wilbur slowly falling for reader and becoming worried when they don’t show up to school until he finally confesses?? (not the full request)

about; explicit language, silent pining, rivalry, enemies to lovers, nervousness, a few kisses, rude behaviour, competitiveness, yelling, purposefully lowercase, use of y/n

word count; i wrote this on mobile and don't wanna try to find the word count. probably 1k, around there

celebrate here;

all you wanted to do was get through this last lesson of the day and go home, and try at a somewhat peaceful day, but wilbur clearly didn't know 'leaving someone alone' meant. he was watching your every move with caution, more or less, adoration.

"wilbur! please! i've had enough of your bullshit!" you yelled in the hallway, attracting the attention of other students. he'd walked out of class a few minutes after you and approached you, waving his test paper in your face, a clear '100%' written in red pen in the corner.

he knew something was finally wrong when a tear slipped down your face after your exclamation, and he chased after you down the hallway, tripping over his shoelaces.

"y/n! y/n, wait! listen to me!" his voice was desperate now. you had never heard that tone in his voice, and you felt bad. you really did. but you'd rather not give him an ounce more of your attention. your last class wasn't with him, thankfully, but he wasn't letting down the fact that he's made you upset.

you get to the bathrooms and lock yourself in a stall, hoping that he'll give up and leave you alone. you heard footsteps approaching the bathroom, but you never heard footsteps leaving.

'but he can't skip geography. he loves geography.'

and you can't skip your class. your parents will kill you if they find out.

opting to leave the bathrooms, you speed walk to your class, dodging anything wilbur had to say with a "wilbur, i'm gonna be late!" or a "shut up!". reaching your classroom, you place your bag on the floor and rest your face in your hands.

class came and went like a breeze, and you were now sitting in your bedroom, scanning through piles of homework and eating a snack. your last class had sent you home with a fuck-ton of homework, all due by halfway through the next week.

11pm rolled around, and you were utterly exhausted, and having a shower in the morning sounded way easier than now. wrapped up in your blankets, you drifted into a comfortable sleep.

---

you woke up needing to vomit, but not from sickness, but more so nervousness. wilbur's episode yesterday had shaken you around a little bit, and you did not like the thought of dealing with him on a friday.

you open your phone, remembering you had wilbur's number, for some reason. you were about to open his contact and tell him to leave you alone but you were interrupted by a text from him.

'hey y/n. i'm sorry for yesterday. meet me after school at the park down the road, if you can. again, sorry.'

'wilbur. can we do it tomorrow. i don't want to deal with anything today'

he read your message and you assumed he left for school.

---

he stood around all day, hoping to see your face pop up at least once but it never did. he had resorted to constantly checking his phone and ripping pieces of paper from his books, scribbling little messages on them, and shoving them in his pants pocket.

he was a mess, to say the least.

he was worried about someone he knew didn't care about him when they didn't show up to school. how pathetic can he get? he was never worried when you stayed home sick or when you went on a holiday, but this. this was different.

this was now. this is when he has finally gained feelings. this was the present time.

---

you ran down to the park, having completely forgotten that wilbur had messaged you yesterday after school saying he was happy to meet up today. you were struggling against the wind, your hair in your face and your loose band tee stuck to your body.

wilbur wasn't much better than you. he was picking at his fingernails, chewing on his fingers and flipping his phone around on his hands. he was a mess, yet again.

you spotted him sitting on a bench under a tree. he looked just as bad as you. well, a little bit better. he had actually put thought into his appearance. you showed up expecting to be able to leave within five minutes.

however, you couldn't have been further from the truth. two hours have passed since you sat down next to him, and majority of that time was spent with wilbur muttering short, breathless apologies to you. you'd said a few things, but now you were stuck with a prominent blush staining your face.

it fell silent over the both of you, staring out into the small pond, smiling at the ducks chewing at a few bread crumbs.

before he spoke up.

"i like you." he avoided your gaze.

"wilbur, what?"

"i like you. maybe that's why I find it hard to talk to you in any other way than pointless jokes. i didn't realise i was hurting you because i was so worried that my feelings would somehow get out to you." he admitted, an identical blush coating his face, making you lightly laugh at him.

"you pissed me off a lot though. and you thought i was stupid. and that i wasn't as smart as you. did you mean any of that?" you were worrying now.

"no, no no, no. i never meant that. again, i was too worried about my feelings for you that i completely disregarded how you felt." he quickly said, shutting his mouth as fast as he could.

this time, however. you didn't laugh. you didn't snicker. you didn't tease him.

you learnt over and rested on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. you press the same kiss to his nose, and then finally to his lips. he looked funny, lipgloss slightly smudged on his face, but at least he wasn't an ass about it.

he pressed more kisses to your lips, and sealing your fates with a long, warm kiss.

he wouldn't be teasing you anytime soon.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

READER WORSHIPPING DILF JAKE DAD BOD PUUURRRRRRRR 🤭🤭

he might feel rentless, tense, stressed, a bit insecure with his body changes and reader is here to remind him how attractive her mate 😋

maybe leaving marks all over jake's body, then riding the fuck out of him until he kept letting out moans and cumming inside reader uncontrollably!! ♡♡

😩😩😩😩 the way this has me all feral 🤭🤭🤭

“Baby,” Jake starts, hesitant, as your hand wanders down his torso. “Girl—”

You shush him with a kiss to the mouth, your lips soft against his as your hand moves down to his loincloth. Jake can't help but groan as you rub over his cock, blood rushing south, causing him to grow hard.

You kiss his jaw, his neck, before placing soft kisses on his chest.

“Baby,” he tries again, ears folding back as your lips trail lower, to his abdomen. You kneel in front of him, your eyes staring up at him. You two have known each other for years. You have kids. Life has made him soft where he used to have stiff muscles all over. And it makes him insecure.

But for the life of you, you cannot understand why.

You kiss his stomach, licking his warm skin, and he shudders softly. “Kid, come on—”

“Will you just let me love you?” you say softly, gently biting his lower stomach, the soft fat that's gathered there makes your heart flutter with butterflies.

Jake chuckles, a little embarrassed before telling you, “We're not kids 'nymore, baby. I-I used to be prettier when I was younger. You know that.”

“I know that's a bunch of bullshit,” you return, licking over his hipbone. “You've never looked better than you do now, baby. You got me watching you all day, having to touch myself until you get home to fuck me.”

Jake groans lowly. “Come on, kid, you don't have to—”

You bite down on the skin of his lower abdomen, right above the string of his loincloth, making him gasp. You smile up at him. “Every time you try to stop me from loving you, I'll bite you,” you half-joke, and Jake chuckles.

You undo his loincloth, allowing it to fall to the floor, and Jake's cock springs to attention. You lick your lips before wrapping a hand around his girth and pressing a soft kiss to the tip. You then leave wet, openmouthed kisses down his underside until you reach his balls. You lick over them, making Jake shudder, and then you kiss his thighs. You pay them some love, licking them, tasting them, occasionally biting on them with the intention of leaving hickeys all over.

Jake can't do anything but watch you. The way you love his body, the way you're so kind to him, the way you make his cock hard and his heart soft for you—you are one in a hundred thousand billion. The only one he will ever want and ever need.

You kiss your way back up, kissing his stomach again, sucking on the skin and biting on it. You lick over each mark you leave, every hickey sending delight purring through you at the sight. You can't wait for him to walk out of the tent tomorrow morning, the marks low enough on his torso to evidence that you two had a spicy night, but not low enough for his loincloth to cover them.

You lean back to admire your work, the sight of Jake's body covered in your little bite marks and hickeys makes you smile proudly. You grab one of Jake's hands in your own and pull him to you, bringing him to the ground so he kneels in front of you.

You push him on his back, forcing him to lie on the ground as you straddle his hips. “I love you so much,” you tell Jake as you remove your loincloth. “I love everything about you, and that won't ever change, baby,” you say. Your grind your hips down on his, your pussy rubbing on his cock, and he groans softly, his eyes fluttering shut.

He drags his canines over his lower lip, grabbing onto your hips and guiding your movements. You smile slightly before lifting your hips, grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance before lowering yourself onto him.

Jake fills you to the brim, the thick head of his cock finding your cervix as your gummy walls stretch to fit him. You moan softly, the feeling of fulness overwhelming.

Jake groans, his cock jerking inside of you. “Goddamn,” he grunts. “So fuckin' tight.”

“Mhmm,” you mewl, resting your hands on his chest for balance and support. You lift your hips up and bring them back down, his cock slipping in and out. You gasp, nails digging into his skin, and Jake moans softly.

“Fuck,” he growls, biting his lower lip. You're so warm around him, plush walls sucking him in. “Fucking amazing.”

You moan, his cock dragging against that spongy spot that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Jake,” you gasp softly. “Ah!”

“I know,” Jake chuckles. “It's good, ain't it?”

“Mhmm!” you cry. “You-you see what you do to me?” You lean down, kissing his jaw. “You see how crazy you make me?”

You're tight around him, your pleasure filling your body, your veins. Your heart races in your ears, your body is trembling, and you're seeing stars from the intensity of the ecstasy.

“Fuck, baby,” Jake groans. “It's never going to cease to surprise me how much you love me.”

You whimper softly. “It shouldn't-shouldn't surprise you,” you tell him. “'s impossible not to love you.”

Jake's fingers dig into your hips. “You're fucking amazing, darlin'.”

You whine, your body tensing as the pleasure coils in your womb, a warm pool of liquid fire that simmers, ready to boil.

As you become lost to the bliss, you beg, “Fill me up, Jake! Fill me up! I want another baby 'f yours! Please!”

Jake shivers. “Another one?” he asks, chuckling, the idea of filling you again making his cock twitch.

“Yes!” you beg. “Another baby! Please, I wanna give you another one!”

Jake bucks his hips up, meeting yours, pounding into you. “Anything you want, love,” he replies. “Anything for you, girl.”

You nod, whining and gasping. “Please,” you cry. “Please, please!”

The bulbous head of his cock bruises your cervix, making you gasp, the pleasure shooting up your body. “'s so good!” you whimper. “Please, make me come! Please!”

“You know I'll make you come, baby,” he tells you. “You don't have to ask for that, it's a given, angel.”

You tremble, nodding, gasping, “Yes! Yes! Fuck! Jake!”

Your nails dig into his chest, your cunt tightens around him, and your orgasm wrecks through you, tearing your scattered thoughts into pieces, leaving you just about fucked dumb.

Jake moans lowly, a rumbling sound that leaves his lips and rumbles through his chest. You gasp and mewl, shaking, and it pushes Jake to his own orgasm. He comes inside you, his thick load filling you to the brim, dripping down your thighs as you lay yourself on top of Jake, your chest meeting his, his cock still inside you.

His huge hands caress your back as he softly kisses your temple. You rest your head against his chest, hearing his heart beat directly into your ear.

“I love you,” you remind him, kissing his chest. “And no matter what, you know that will never change.”

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie

-----

Blog masterlist

[topazy]

A different tomorrow

Tomorrow's promise au

Pairing: Shane Walsh x oc, Daryl Dixon x oc

Warnings: Swearing

Daryl’s pov 2.11

Sitting back on the porch floor, Daryl swings one leg over the other while carefully peeling the apple in his hand with his knife, making sure not to nip his skin in the process. Unlike Atlanta, the smell of decay wasn’t as strong at Greene’s farm; instead, his nostrils were filled with what he could only describe as a ‘spring’ smell.

“You gonna quit that?” Daryl asks, making no effort to hide the irritation in his voice.

Rick finally stops pacing and leans against the fencing. He grips onto it so tightly that his knuckles start to turn white. He was stressed, but when wasn’t he? Daryl was enjoying his solitude until Rick stormed out of the farm house, riled up. The former sheriff always seemed to be involved in some kind of shit, and after seeing Sophia come out of the barn, Daryl was done. He had put any faith he had into finding that little girl, only to find out she was dead all along. It changed something inside him.

Shaking his head, Daryl takes another slice of the apple between his teeth and stares out into the fields again, which were now covered by a golden glow as the sun started to set. He looks back over to Rick, who is resting his head in his hands. Daryl contemplates saying something, but the slamming of a car captures his attention.

“Lily, what's wrong?"

Lily storms up the steps onto the porch and roughly shoves her brother in the chest, saying, “You're an asshole.”

Hearing the aggression in her voice, Daryl tosses the fruit onto the ground and gets to his feet. He’s taken aback by the visible pain on her face; she looks broken. He scoffs at seeing Shane walking up towards the porch; whenever Lily was upset, Shane was never far behind.

“You promised me, you promised.” Seeing Lily shove Rick again, Daryl wraps one arm around her waist and lifts her back with ease. “Let go of me, Daryl!”

He didn’t care if she kicked and screamed; Daryl wasn’t letting go of Lily until he was sure she wouldn’t hurt herself further. “Go easy before you hurt yourself; you don't want to bust up your arm again.”

Her strength while trying to get out of his grasp surprised him; she was like a wild animal trying to get out of a trap. He was trying so hard not to care about either of the Grimes; he had already become too attached, but he couldn’t deny they were good people. Rick was always risking his life for others, and Lily… she just wanted to keep Jace safe. A mother who was happiest playing with her baby.

When he feels Lily calming in his arms, Daryl loosens his hold on her. She walks over to Rick, tears brimming in her eyes. “The one fucking thing I've ever asked of you, and you couldn't even do that.”

“Lil-”

Struggling to hold it together, she ignores her brother and goes into the house.

Daryl looks directly at Rick, “I've no idea what shitstorm is going on, but I'd let her cool down.”

“If you've got something you want to say, man, now is the time.” Shane snaps, sending him a death glare. “You think—”

“Whatever,” Daryl shrugs him off. “I ain’t got time for this soap opera bullshit.”

[coconutcordiale]

In honor of How To Lose a Guy In Ten Days and Matthew McConaughey: “Great Answer.” “Good Question.” With Hangman

make my motor run

pairing- finnegan (everybody wants some!!) x afab reader

synopsis- everyone thinks finn is so sweet. you're not convinced.

warnings- 18+ minors and glen powell - you are not welcome here. protected piv, oral (f receiving), slight dumbification/degradation, praise kink. reader has ethically not great motives around sleeping with finn but do we honestly think finn cares? no

length- 2.1k

an- not hangman, but it's still glen so...close enough? this is the crossover literally not one person asked for - how to lose a guy in 10 days (if you squint a little) & everybody wants some

idk y'all, i don't have it in me to be ashamed anymore. this is just smut with some bants. idk if anyone even wants to read this but the glen powell brain rot is real so it had to be done so it'd stop rattling around in my mind. blame glen and his stupidly handsome face and the fact that he steals every scene he's in

title from my sharona - the knack

tagging some finn peeps - @sebsxphia / @iguana-braces / @justalonelyslytherin

It’s Saturday night. Against your better judgment, you’re at the rickety baseball houses, silently debating if you’ll have time to get a tetanus shot before your study group tomorrow morning.

Finn twirls his pipe between his fingers, leaning against the porch railing in a ridiculous paisley button-up. “Aside from how to take my breath away, what do you study here, ladies?”

“Does that ever actually work on real, human women?” You ask, ignoring the elbow to your ribs that Sophia digs into your side, presumably to get you to shut up.

The blond tilts his head, processing. He eventually grins. “Take no prisoners kinda gal, aren’t ya? I like that.” 

You hold back a grunt when Sophia elbows you again, answering the question before you can snark him any further. “We’re both journalism majors.” 

Going to take a sip of your drink, something you’ll surely need to swallow whatever faux-enlightened comment he has about that little piece of information; you furrow your brows when you realize it’s empty.

“I’ll grab you another drink, try not to miss me too much.” Finn winks, the bastard. What a ham. 

Your eye roll is barely contained when Sophia gives you a knowing look. 

“Oh, come on, he’s sweet,” she insists. 

“You’ve seen him with other girls, right? Everything out of his mouth is a line, Soph. It’s all bullshit. He’s pandering to us, so he seems better, different than his asshole teammates. It’s insulting.”

“Then why haven’t you told him to fuck off?”

“I think he’d be a good subject for my article.”

Her eyes widen. “About benevolent misogyny?”

“That’s the one.”

“How far are you gonna take this? Sleep with him to prove a point about how far a chauvinistic male will go for sex?”

You shrug. You hadn’t really thought it through, honestly. It’s not like it’d be a chore, he is pretty hot when he keeps his mouth shut.

She takes your silence as confirmation. “That’s kind of fucked up.” 

“Can’t be worse than changing your entire personality every other night just to get laid.” 

+ 

You find yourself sitting on the roof with Finn, having already shown up his mediocre golf swing. You’d never admit it to Soph, but your article is the furthest thing from your mind right now.

“True or false: all fundamental beliefs are reasonable.” You’re so taken aback by his pop quiz you almost don’t notice him sitting down behind you, pulling you into the space between his legs.

Smooth. You roll your eyes, but don’t move away. “False.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice. “I see someone’s already taken Philosophy 101 with Roberts.” 

“Yes, but that’s irrelevant. That’s an insane statement regardless.” 

When you turn to catch a glimpse of him you see him opening his mouth, ostensibly to argue, but you shake your head. “My turn. True or false: all’s fair in love and war.” 

“True.”

You can’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips. “Great answer.” 

Finn positively beams. “Good question!” His hands drift up from your hips, working their way under your flimsy tank before he brings his lips to your ear, murmuring, “True or false: you’re gonna let me take you inside so I can take you apart.” 

Your breath hitches. “True.” 

He turns your head to him, mouth pressing against yours, mustache tickling you, soft and sweet for just a moment, before he slides his tongue into your mouth filthily. “Let’s go then, honey.”

Your tiny denim shorts and little tank get lost on the floor of his bedroom almost immediately, skin ablaze as he pushes you back onto his bed, on soft forest green sheets that smell like him – warm and spicy and earthy. He stays standing as he makes quick work of his own clothes, raking his eyes across your naked form.

You try not to shy away from his gaze, meeting his eyes defiantly as you feel slick pooling between your thighs. You’re barely keeping yourself from rubbing them together, words laced with an edge you don’t feel. “Thought you were working on a degree in cunnilingus. Put that mouth to good use, Finn.”

There’s a sparkle in those green eyes that you catch just before he braces himself above you, arms bracketing your head. His words are muffled against your skin as he kisses his way down your body. “Overheard that, did you? Knew you were paying special attention to me.”

You roll your eyes, mouth open to respond, but he drags his lips across your collarbone before his mouth closes around a nipple, effectively driving any wit from you.

He pushes your legs open wide, settling himself between them. His chest presses into the mattress as his arms wrap around your thighs where he’s busy putting them over his shoulders. When his mustache brushes against your thigh's sensitive skin, it sends shivers racketing through you and you feel his smirk only centimeters away from where you want it. 

He licks his lips as your resolve crumbles with every passing second.

“C’mon, Finn, please,” you whine, threading your hands through his shaggy hair, trying in vain to pull him closer to your cunt.

“Impatient,” he tsks. You lean up to fix him with a glare, but it only makes him chuckle. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll take care of you.”

He finally, finally licks a stripe up your slit, and despite it being exactly what you asked for, you tug on hard on the blond hair between your fingers in surprise. He groans long and low, vibrations rolling through your body from your center where his lips are busy fixing themselves to your clit. 

His buries his face in you, moaning against your cunt as his tongue laps at you like a starved man. “Could spend hours drowning in this pussy, tastes so fucking good.”

The sound that leaves you in answer to that is pathetic – high and whiny – hips bucking. His big hands are gripping you so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises high on your legs tomorrow. He stiffens his tongue to fuck it in and out of you, nose bumping your clit and making you shake, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Any sense of shame, any idea that you should keep yourself quiet in this house full of strangers has left you – your existence narrowed down to your hands in his hair, his lips on your cunt, the moans tearing their way from your throat, unbidden.

Your legs dig into his back, urging him in, hurtling towards the point of no return so fast all you can think of is needing more. He moves his lips back to your clit, hand loosening his death grip enough to slide a finger into the wet mess you’ve become at the same time he curls his lips and sucks.

“Don’t stop, please, Finn I -” You’re begging now, grinding against his face as much as you can in the vice-like grip he still has on you. He doubles his efforts, tongue working over your clit harder, finger inside you curling as you burn with the intensity of it, electricity bursting beneath your skin as the tension finally bursts, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your legs feel like jelly. You let go of his blond locks belatedly, resigning yourself to your new existence as a puddle, a melted version of your former self. 

He looks up from between your legs and grins. 

You grab for his arms where they’re still flexed around your thighs, bringing him up face to face with you. He smiles, dropping sweet kisses to your parted lips and warm cheeks. Whining, you wrap your legs around his waist, wordlessly trying to pull him to you, get him inside of you, greedy for him.

“Don’t tell me a smart girl like you doesn’t know how to use her words,” Finn goads, laughter curling in his words, and you’re torn between wanting to smack him and beg like your life depends on it. You’re so distracted you barely notice him shifting his weight to his knees so he can reach for a condom, tear it open with his teeth, and roll it on.

You try to glare but he braces himself over you again, rubbing his cock between your folds, catching your oversensitive clit and a truly embarrassing whimper comes out, eyes blurring with a mix of pain and pleasure instead. “Finnegan.” 

“Yeah, baby?”

Taking a deep breath, you try to get your last functioning brain cell to cooperate. “Get inside me right now or so help me –”

You can still feel the amusement on his lips as he ducks his head down to slot your mouths together to cut you off, swallowing your moan as he pushes into you, slow and steady. 

When you flex your legs around his waist impatiently, he chuckles before setting a relentless pace, grinding his cock into you hard with each push. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it sets your skin on fire, it rackets the headboard against the wall – if his teammates didn’t know what was happening before, they certainly have a good idea now.

Your head lolls to the side as he hits that spot inside you on every thrust, nerves overloaded as you grip the nape of his neck, just trying to hold on.

“Fuck,” he groans, looking down at the glazed expression taking over your features. “Not gonna last long.” 

The thought that he’s already so close from having his mouth on you has your eyes crossing, cunt clenching around his thick length. His face crumples, mouth parting like you’ve just knocked the wind out of him. “Trying to kill me, honey?”

He lifts one of your legs to his shoulders, leaning down towards you and bending you in half – pushing limits to flexibility you didn’t even know you had.

“Wanna feel you come on my cock, you can do that for me, can’t you?” Finn asks, panting against your cheek, deft fingers moving down to circle your clit.

The sparks shooting through you as he presses into your center border on pain but you’re nodding, head bobbing up and down of its own accord, nails scratching red along his shoulders as you get closer and closer.

“Good girl,” he grunts and you keen, his words hurtling you towards the edge again. “So good for me…look at you, smart ass, brilliant girl fucked dumb on my cock.”

He’s pulling almost all the way out of you on every thrust now, slamming back in, and your back arches against him, a string of unintelligible noises leaving you that you’re just barely aware of, mewling filling the air in the room as your release snaps through you, ears ringing.

When you come to, still shaking and clenching around him, he’s running his mouth still, a litany of praise and groans of fuck honey, perfect for me, spilling from his bitten, red lips. His hips tear forward without rhythm as he pumps into you one last time, filling the condom before dropping your leg and collapsing next to you, strings holding him up suddenly cut.

Finn rolls to the side, and you stare at the cracks in the ceiling, wondering if you’ll ever be able to move again. You think he’s talking, but you can’t even begin to register what he’s saying. 

“Did I fuck all the brains out of the mouthy girl I brought up here?” Finn asks, amused when you don’t respond.

“Just surprised you wanted audience participation for your post-sex speech,” you snark, trying not to belay how difficult it is to form words currently.

“Well, I think Joanna Russ would disparage of me if I were indifferent to your thoughts and opinions immediately after getting off.”

 You raise an eyebrow. “You know who Joanna Russ is?”

 “The Female Man is a cornerstone of feminist literature. I read it be—”

 You can’t help but interrupt, brain quickly coming back online. “Because you thought it was going to be about the ideal woman through a man’s eyes.”

 He even has the gall to look offended. “Of course not, everyone knows Russ is a feminist writer.”

“Then you read it so more women would sleep with you after hearing that you’d read it.” He presses his lips together to hold back a smile and you snort. “I knew it.”

“Honey, don’t get mad at me just because it works.”

“Incorrigible.” 

You lay your head on his chest, trying not to purr like a kitten as his hands tangle in your hair.

“I enjoy Jack Kerouac too if you really want to round out your article. Paint a full picture.”

Your eyes widen, trying desperately to keep in the surprised squeak when you look up to meet jade eyes and see them filled with mischief.

“Just a thought,” he murmurs, hands resuming their movements on your scalp, lulling you toward sleep.

full disclosure i haven't actually read the female man but i'm pretty sure it was published in the 70s which seemed fitting for ews being set in the 80s. thanks for reading!

[augustmonsooning]

so did you realise it was special when you were in it? (the bear s3; I loved it, and I hated it, and despite everything, I still believe)

Thoughts and spoilers under cut!

I just finished watching all the eps about 2 minutes ago so things haven't marinated yet but I think what stood out for me was how joyless "the present day" was?

God it was so joyless!!

Even with how much yelling, and fuck there was so so much yelling in the first season, it was warm. It felt good.

And Napkins, that brief moment we were allowed back into the Beef as it was, highlighted that. It was such a beautiful, beautiful coda to what is actually important in the middle of everything.

And it really made me think about Sydney saying to Carmy "did you realise how special it was when you were there?", and it tracks he says no, because he doesn't realise how special things were at The Bear when he was working with Sydney, when everything seemed light and easy.

There's a reason they show him trying to draw and getting nowhere when it was so easy to draw they things he talked about with Sydney.

There's a reason why he has flashbacks to every goddamn other scene in the past two seasons but never a flashback to them coming up with menu ideas in his apartment - some of the calmest, peace filled moments of the entire show. It would hurt to much to remember that.

In one interview Jeremy talks about this season being like the end of "Review", and that's exactly it right?

The whole season is Review, drawn out. It's mistake after mistake, it's disaster after disaster, and yeah, no one gets stabbed and there is actually much less yelling, and no doughnuts are slammed to the floor but it fucking sucks, and Carmy might be doing his lone ranger, "I'm a culinary genius" bullshit but he is so shitty to everyone around him.

Syd is going to walk away and she should.

And then maybe Carmy will realise that what they had was special, and that he never knew it until it was gone.

Because, if we're honest, 'Braciole' back in Season 1 was too easy right?? They have an epic meltdown, and then they find cash in the tinned tomatoes and the girl of Carmy's dreams comes back and they open a restaurant???? like what?? This is the suffering before that golden light suffused ending. It probably is going to get even worse before it gets better, but I think it will get better.

Because what was the point of showing Sydney at EMP otherwise? The one time Carmy makes the dish like he wants to make it, it goes to Sydney? The one time he thinks and acts for himself and isn't ground down by people telling him what to do, it changes the course of a woman's life and she changes the course of his? And then he ends up with some random girl he had a crush on in highschool? No, obviously not.

Character wise we were down sub basement syd-carmy wise, but narratively speaking? This train is headed only in one direction.

Anyway! I wanna write more about this season because I think that 'Tomorrow', 'Napkins' and 'Ice Chips' were some incredibly beautiful episodes.

[hazybisou]

BEFORE HE CHEATS

fic

reader x mat barzal

summary: one night y/n catches mat cheating and leaves before coming back to teach her ex lover a little lesson about breaking her heart.

a/n: this is obviously inspired by “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. every night i have this song on full volume and js pour it all out bc my ex sucked. also this takes place when tito was still with the islanders.

warnings: curse words, cheating, explicit content?? idk

right now, he's probably slow dancin'

with a bleached-blond tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky

you entered your shared apartment to find it very, very quiet. you knew mat had gotten home from running errands and normally, you’d hear him showering or shouting at the tv but today it was silent. you dropped your keys into the bowl near the door as you slipped off your shoes. you threw your bag onto the couch as you made your way to your bedroom.

when you opened the door, you weren’t prepared for the scene in front you. there, on your bed, was mat making out with some random blonde chick, naked. you felt tears prick at your eyes. “mat, what the fuck?!”

the pair quickly pulled apart. “shit,” mat whispered to himself as he scrambled around to put on his boxers, the girl covering herself up with the cover. you turned around and walked over to the couch to grab your bag. you could hear mat’s footsteps following you. “y/n wait..”

you whipped you body around, tears flowing down your cheeks. “no mat, you don’t get to say anything! i mean how could you! four years!” you shouted as you held up four fingers, “for four fucking years we’ve been fucking together a-and i come home to find you in bed with some other chick!? who the fuck does that mat! tell me!” you could see mat trying to come up with a response, “were you even thinking about what would happen before you got in bed with her?! or were you too blinded by the fact that she was standing in front of you, butt naked waiting for your dick!?”

silence. that’s all you got from mat.

you just chuckled before turning around, heading for the door as you slipped your shoes back on. “y/n please don’t go! i love you! i-i don’t know why i did it! please don’t leave me.” mat pleaded as tears began to fall out of the corners of his eyes. “you’re all i have here. i promise it won’t happen again, just please don’t go!”

mat grabbed your arm but you pulled it back. “that’s the thing mat, i can’t trust you anymore!” you shouted as turned around to face him. “i’m done here mat. i’ll be back tomorrow to grab my things. you can keep the place, i don’t care.” you opened the door and were about to walk out when you stopped.

you turned towards mat, “you’re a piece of shit, you know that? because if you don’t then you do now. have fun with your new girlfriend mat. hopefully she’s smarter than me and can see through your bullshit.” you turned around and started to walk towards the elevator.

“and where are you going to stay?” mat spoke up.

“with beau. i’m sure he’d be happy to take me in.” with that, you walked into the elevator as you clicked the button to close the doors, your figure disappearing from mat’s sight.

━━━━━━━━━━

you knocked on anthony’s door and a few seconds later it opened and you were met with his girlfriend, zoe. she had a smile on her face but it quickly faltered when she noticed your tear stained cheeks. “oh y/n…c’mere.” she cooed as she opened her arms for you to get into and that’s when you let more tears flow. “come on.” she said as she ushered you inside.

“babe, who is it?” anthony shouted from the kitchen but it got louder as he walked towards the two of you. “oh, y/n hey-what happened?” he questioned as he saw you both were hugging and you were sniffling.

“he cheated. mat cheated on me.” you explained as you began to cry harder.

“what?! when?” anthony asked as you all walked to the couch. you set your bag down and sat next to zoe as you explained the situation to the pair. by the end of it, you were still sniffling and crying. “i’m gonna kill him, i swear.”

zoe turned to her boyfriend, “you’re not doing shit, alright? not unless y/n gives you the green light to do so,” zoe scolded him. “as of now, you are going to sit and listen.”

“thank you.” you whispered as she held you close. you whipped the tears that streamed down your cheeks, “can i ask for a favor?” she nodded her head, “you think i could s-stay here for a while? just until i find my own place again.”

“stay as long as you need y/n, you can have the guest bedroom.” anthony told you. you looked over at him and smiled to the best of your ability.

“we’ll go get your stuff tomorrow while mat is at practice but right now, let’s get you to bed.” zoe said as you two got up and walked towards the guest room. anthony had stayed in the living room waiting until he got notice that he was able to go to his room.

you and zoe walked into the room and you placed your bag on the bed before turning towards zoe. “i’ll lend you some clothes to sleep in, okay?” she said and you nodded in thanks as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. you sat on the bed as she went to her closet to grab a set of clothes for you to borrow. you fell back and laid there, thinking about the past hour. had mat been cheating this whole time? surely he had to have cheated before.

you were too busy thinking, you hadn’t noticed zoe was back. “alright, here you go.” she announced as you were handed the clothes. “i’ve already laid out some things in the bathroom right across from here like an extra toothbrush, a hair brush, tampons, pads, whatever i thought you’d need.”

“thank you again. i don’t know where else i would’ve gone. you guys are amazing.” you thanked her.

“of course! you’re my friend and friends look out for each other.” she smiled and you hugged her before she got up and left, calling out for anthony. you changed out of your old clothes and put the tank top and shorts zoe had lended you on. you went to the bathroom and had brushed your teeth, wiping your makeup off. you tied your hair into a braid and made your way into bed. the doors were closed and only a lamp was on.

as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink

'cause she can't shoot whiskey

right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool-stick

showin' her how to shoot a combo

for the last couple of days, you’ve been staying with anthony and his girlfriend. you had moved some of your stuff from your previously shared apartment with mat to anthony’s place with the help of zoe and him.

each night you’d be up looking through mat’s story on instagram and he’d be with the girl he cheated on you with. you found out her name was anna, due to him tagging her user on one of his story’s, where he had shot gunned a drink while she sipped on a margarita. guess she couldn’t handle the taste.

turns out, she had also posted as she had a video of him teaching her to play pool on her story a couple minutes later. she couldn’t even hit the ball properly but they were all intoxicated meaning no one really payed attention.

you hated it. the feeling of betrayal. the feeling of sadness and heartbreak. you hated how he has moved on so fast. especially with her. you couldn’t stand it.

you tried to ignore it as best as you could yet that feeling always led to tears being shed. you couldn’t just lay there and let him get away with causing you so much pain and heartbreak.

oh, and he don’t know

that i dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive

carved my name into his leather seats

i took a louisville slugger to both headlights

i slashed a hole in all four tires

maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats

you still has mat’s number. you had sent him a text saying you were going to pick up a few more things that you had forgotten to take over to anthony’s place. he replied with an ‘ok’ and that was it.

you had still had the key to the apartment as it had been yours previously before mat had moved in. you put the key in the lock and twisted the knob before opening the door. the place was clean. the shoes were in pairs and lined up by the door. the couch pillows were sat up straight. the kitchen looked fresh. the whole place was like you had it before mat had moved in. he was a bit of a snob when it came to keeping the house clean.

you walked into your old bedroom and headed towards the closet. you two has decided on splitting the space. you got the right and he got the left. all his clothing was there and you only had a couple t-shirts and tank tops in there. you couldn’t help but wonder where anna’s stuff had been. they were together after all.

you grabbed the remaining of your clothes and walked out of the closet. you couldn’t help but look around the place. it was organized. just how you had done it.

seeing the place all cleaned up hurt you. you mind would still replay the night you had come home to may sucking faces with the blonde chick, anna. you always felt the heartbreak and betrayal when you thought of it. your mind would play tricks on you, reminding you of all the happy moments you had with mat.

you couldn’t help it when all of sudden you felt your hand come in contact with the vase on the dresser. it shattered as it hit the ground. you felt tears slide down your cheeks and onto the carpet. that seemed to have caused adrenaline rush through the course of you body. it felt good.

i might have saved a little trouble for the next girl

a-'cause the next time that he cheats

oh, you know it won't be on me

no, not on me

you arm slid across the dresser knocking everything off. jewelry, cologne, books, and other random things, fell to the ground. you grabbed a pillow off the bed and looked at it before throwing it at the full-body length mirror and watched as the mirror hit the floor with a thud.

you walked out of the room and knocked random things off walls and tables. you threw the couch pillows off the cushions. the cuahions seemed fine. you hated it.

you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a knife before going back and cutting the cushion open. you slashed random lines into it before dropping the knife onto it. you were like a mad man. but of felt good. the anger you felt was leaving you body as you looked at the apartment. it was trashed.

the place had seemed like someone had plumaged through it. technically you did if you thought of it. you knew he’d be confused. you walked over to a drawer in the kitchen and grabbed a pen and notepad before writing down on it. you tore it out and left it on the kitchen counter. you walked towards the door with your clothes in your hand, opened the door and left.

━━━━━━━━━━

bonus +

mat had arrived late from a game that night. he saw your text before exiting the locker room and heading towards the rink. he gave you the ok and turned his phone off and the team left. he had arrived late due to traffic and was expecting to come home to a nice apartment where he could just rest.

if only he knew what he was too find.

he took the elevator up and walked to his apartment number and opened the door before walking in. he wasn’t prepared.

the place was a dump. everything was out of order. he walked further into the place and saw the knife on the couch. his attention soon adverted too the slashes on his (yours) couch.

the kitchen was fine surprisingly. he noticed the pictures that were hanging on the wall in the hallway on the ground, facing face-down. he quickly rushed to the room annd paused as he saw the state it was in. he looked at his closet and saw your things were gone.

‘so you really did come by?’ mat thought before heading towards the kitchen to grab his phone and call you.

your note was still on the island where his phone laid. he saw his phone and reached across for it. he grabbed it and looked around before noticing the piece of paper. he slowly took it and opened it.

it read,

‘had to take my anger

out somehow :( don’t

be mad

-y/n’

he knew he fucked up. yet he still did it. maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.

oh, maybe next time he'll think before he cheats

oh, before he cheats

oh-oh

little angst?? idk 🤷‍♀️ i js write fluff but ya know… we gotta change it up a little sometimes. anyways enjoy this while i go to sleep for school tmrw bc i have a test that i will most likely fail. bye

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 21st:  Hellfire | Back in Black - AC/DC | Tenacious a/n: so, I've written about Eddie inheriting Hellfire. now, it's time to write about Eddie founding Hellfire! he's a little shit in this one, and I love him so much it's nearly clinical. wrote this in the car on the way to my in-law's family party so it'll go up on ao3 later 🦇 ao3 collection | tumblr masterlist

“Mr. Munson,” the principal starts, seated opposite Eddie across the desk. “You’re a freshman. Freshmen don’t start clubs here. Why don’t you look around a little, broaden your horizons. There are some wonderful sports and music opportu–”

Eddie’s arms are crossed over his chest and he sits with both legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. “It’s Eddie, and no. Why can’t I start a club? Why do only upperclassmen get to? Or is this just because it’s a Dungeons and Dragons club?” 

As if I’d wanna go and join the kids who look at me like the spawn of fucking Satan, he wants to say, but he needs to play it cool, hard as that may be. Or at least unless the principal, whose name he hasn’t bothered to commit to memory yet, doubles down on his refusal; then, all bets are off. 

“Of course not, we just encourage our youngest students to expand their interests. You might find that you’re good at something surprising or–”

Eddie knows that interrupting over and over again won’t help his case, but he can’t help himself. Hearing the same bullshit over and over again is infuriating and there’s no good reason that he can’t start a Dungeons and Dragons club for himself and the other kids with wild imaginations and nowhere else to go after that final school bell.

“Or, maybe starting a new club will let students try something new, something that’s been shit on for years that they otherwise may not get the chance to try?” 

The principal levels him with an exasperated look and a heavy sigh before leaning forward on his forearms over the clunky wooden desk. 

“Mr. Munson–”

“It’s Eddie,” Eddie insists for the second time. Mr. Munson is his dad and the name gives him a chill. He may carry a pocketknife and know how to hotwire a car, but he’s still no Al Munson. 

Another sigh. “Eddie. The day’s almost over, can we continue this discussion tomorrow? Buses will be lining up any minute.”

Now or never, he thinks to himself. 

“Well, then you have about a minute to make a decision. Can I start it or not? Maybe even on a, uh, a trial basis?” He shrugs and smiles with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. 

Principal Whatever His Name Is drops his head for a second before looking back up at Eddie. “You’ve worn me down, Mr. Mun– Eddie. Trial basis only, and you need a faculty member to sponsor it. If you can do your due diligence, I’ll allow it.”

“Great!” Eddie claps once and stands. “Mr. Clarke already agreed, so I think we’re all set here. Good doing business with you.”  

“Wait–” 

The bell rings, saving Eddie like it has so many times in the past. He’s halfway out the door, stepping into the stampede of students running for buses, when he turns back around to see the principal shaking his head and rolling his eyes. 

“You know, my Uncle always says if you roll your eyes too much, they’ll get stuck like that.” 

Without another word, he slips into the tide and loads his bus, taking a seat in the back alone and whipping out his notebook and a black marker. Shades of black and red color the lined pages in the form of devils and demons and the words Hellfire Club hover above each sketch.

Good thing I didn’t tell him the name.

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Week one submission for @steddiesmuttyseptember Thank you @stervrucht for beta reading! The first draft was rough. Any grammar / flow mistakes are my own. Tags: Human/Monster Romance, Mention of blood and knife play, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Soft Dom Eddie Munson Prompts used: make-up sex, service dom, mile high club, pillow princess 

Word Count: 3700 (approximate) Rating: M Excerpt: “So, anyway. You’re supposed to be my top priority and I fucked it up. And… I’d really really like to make it up to you.”

“How?”

“I want to draw you a nice long bath first,” Eddie says, slowly stroking up and down Steve’s thighs, going in and out of his shorts. “I want to wash your hair, soap you all up, lotion you, do all the skincare routine for you that you’ve had to miss during tour.”

“That sounds… not terrible,” Steve muses. There’s no way Eddie actually got all the stuff required for his skincare routine.  Eddie hasn’t needed any skincare in forever. The man is covered in some sort of water-proof fuzz. Even the hairless patches of scarred skin heal from anything within a day or two. But Steve can play along for tonight. “After that?”

“Then I want to lay you down on the bed, all relaxed and pampered, and give you a deep, deep massage.”

“Since when do you know how to give massages?” Steve says laughing.

“Dude. I was sleeping on the ground for months! It was either learn or fight off the Demo-jackasses with a kink in my old-man back!”

“Hmm…” Steve’s pretty sure Eddie wasn’t massaging his own back in the Upside-Down, but he did decide to play along. “Alright. Then? After the massage? We just have a good Christian sleepover? Leave room for Jesus?”

“Well no, I was thinking that I’d tie you up.”

“Mhm? Mhm. Mhm?”

You can read on A03 here

“Right, I understand that Eowyn is a big draw. But as I said before, your backstage doesn’t have enough space for—”

“Bullshit! There’s plenty of room for a fucking dog! Cleveland got to have her. You’re saying my venue isn’t good enough? She’s just running across the stage!”

“No, Cleveland had plenty of room for us to—”

“I’m going to tell the label you’re ruining the show you piece of shit!” The asshole on the other side of the line, John? Dick? Lil something? Screams and slams down the phone. Steve’s ears ring. He can feel the beginning of a headache. He needs to go find a quiet place to lay down before this turns into a migraine. But he’s in the middle of a tour. His bedroom is a bunk in the crowded tour bus. He hasn’t had privacy in weeks. He’s ready to chew someone’s head off.

The entire Corroded Coffin crew barges into Steve’s sad makeshift office—a picnic table about ten feet away from the tour bus.

“Eowyn won’t eat,” Gareth says accusingly.

Goodie is close behind him. “You gave her the same thing again Steve. Where’s her beef kibble?”

“We’re out of that,” Steve says, trying to stay calm. Eowyn gets antsy when he sounds upset. “She’ll have to make do with the food we have. We can get her a different bag tomorrow.”

“You’ve given her the same food for days!” Gareth explodes. “You know she likes variety! How would you feel if you had the same thing every fucking day?”

“How would I feel? I’d feel the way I have over this entire fucking tour where I had the same fucking thing every day Gareth! That’s how I’d feel!” Steve finally screams.

Eddie just stands off to the side uselessly. Not standing up for him. Not fighting his boys. What’s new? Steve gets up and goes out of his way to push into Gareth and Goodie as he marches away. He’s done with this. Fuck this. Fuck this tour. Why the fuck did he let this band of assholes talk him into bringing a whole ass husky on a metal tour? ***********************

“Steve?”

Steve burrows deeper into the blankets in his tiny bunk on the tour bus. He’s pretty sure he’s overdue for Eowyn’s second daily hour-long run. He should be clipped behind her right now, letting her pull him along on a run around the isolated track he’d managed to find around where they were staying. His head throbs. He feels scrubbed out, rubbed raw. Mostly, he’s ashamed. “Sweetheart, can you please look at me?” Eddie begs. Gentle palms trace the back of Steve’s neck and into his hair. Steve hates how he automatically relaxes and leans into the touch. Maybe it’s because the skin-colored fuzz that grows all over Eddie now is so soft. Maybe it’s because that’s a reminder that Eddie is safe now, back with him in the right-side up. Whatever the reason is, it’s really cramping his tantrum. “I told the boys to run Eowyn themselves for once. And I booked a hotel room for you to stay in tonight so you can take a breather. Can you please let me take you there?”

It’s a sweet gesture. But it’s also a little too late. Where was this when Steve was fending off angry venues who all wanted a piece of Eowyn, Eowyn—the lovable, needy bastard, and all the various needs of the entire tour crew, including the band? Besides, Steve’s not about to cry in front of people like some ten-year-old. Steve burrows deeper into his flimsy sheets instead. It smells like sweat and stale air.

Eddie and the band might be pissing him off. But. But he literally signed up for this. Begged for this job really. Only got the job because Eddie vouched for him to the label. And he’s humiliating them both. Steve summons all his self control from his Scoops Ahoy and Family Video days. He sits up to look at Eddie and puts on his best customer service smile. Eddie flinches.

Steve resists the urge to throw the sheet back over himself so he doesn’t have to watch Eddie see right through him, fake smiles,  fake confidence, fake strength. “Sorry I made you feel like you had to do all that,” he says instead. “I’m alright. Can you cancel the hotel room?”

“No,” Eddie says firmly. “I mean, maybe? I’m not going to find out though.” Eddie licks his lips the way he does when he’s panicking. He gently cups Steve’s face, eyes shiny, voice shaking. “Please, please let me do this? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let Gareth talk to you like that. It’s going to eat me up alive Stevie. Please. I’ll stand guard. The bus will be standing when you’re back. We’ll get to our next venue on schedule. You deserve a break. Let me give it to you.”

“You’re standing guard?” Steve asks, confused.

“Well, we’ll need one responsible adult to guard the bus right?” Eddie says with a vague smile. Steve scoffs involuntarily at the idea of Eddie being a responsible adult. Eddie’s face falls. “Ok, so maybe I’m not quite the responsible adult the bus deserves, but I can be the adult that stepped up. And besides… I’ve been an ass. I figured you’d want a break from me tonight as well.”

“And sulking by myself in a hotel is going to be a break?” Steve asks, incredulously.

Eddie’s mood immediately shifts. He gets right up into Steve’s space with a delighted grin. “What was that sweetheart? You forgive me? You want little old me warming up your bed?”

“You’re not off the hook that fast you asshole. That room better have a couch,” Steve says, flicking Eddie gently on the nose.

“Aww Steve, my love, my only, let me on the bed. I’ll show you a good time, the best time. The ye olde Munson special.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always insisting that ye is pronounced ‘the’?”

“That was the old me, full of misguided loyalty to my band and random medieval facts. I’m the new me now, full of chagrin and excitement that I’ll finally have a chance to pamper you the way you deserve.” Eddie kneels and takes Steve’s hand, pulling it into a kiss. “Shall we?”

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

Steve tries not to think too hard about how much Eddie must have spent on this room. Corroded Coffin has been doing ok, just about enough to pay the bills. It’s not rock star money. He’s definitely not making enough to get a room this nice in a five-star hotel. Steve takes a deep sniff and wonders if Eddie got them to spritz the room with Steve’s favorite vanilla and mahogany scent.

He throws himself into the soft plush sheets and thrashes around, luxuriating in sleeping on something so clean again. He tries not to freak out about how Eddie left right after showing him the room. He did say he’d be right back. Said he needed to grab something.

What was he grabbing? A pink slip? Was this some sort of severance, a last hurrah before Steve gets fired for throwing a tantrum in public?

Fortunately, Eddie comes back before Steve can spiral any harder. He’s carrying a small bag in one hand, and a very familiar duffel bag in another.

“Did you… bring our kit on tour?” Steve squawks.

“In my defense,” Eddie says sheepishly, “I’m nothing if not unreasonably hopeful. How else would I be in this line of work?”

“What,” Steve sputters, shaking with laughter. “What were you going to do if the whole hotel thing didn’t happen? Make everyone look away for a hot second?”

“Excuse you! I would have made everyone look away for at least five minutes!” Eddie says with mock indignation. “Now can you please stop making fun of me so I can focus on adding us to the mile high club?”

“What?”

“We’re in the mile high city, my heart. I believe that-” Eddie drops the duffel bag on the hotel room’s floor. Steve’s dick twitches at the familiar thump. “-qualifies us for the mile high club? Unless… you’re attached to the traditional definition? And if so… I…”

Eddie hesitates, nose wrinkling.

“Fuck it. Stevie, baby, we’ve had sex in much worse places. I will happily add an airplane bathroom to one of those spots for you.”

Steve leaps off the bed to pounce on Eddie so he can mock retch on him. “Don’t you dare make me cum in an airplane bathroom. We’re counting this.” “Oh thank fuck. Let’s get this show started then.” Eddie rummages through their ‘bag of holdings’ and pulls out a familiar coil of rope. Steve’s stomach flips with anticipation.

“How do you want me?” Steve asks, plopping down on the floor. He could get back on the bed. But then Eddie wouldn’t get to throw him on it, and where’s the fun in that?

Eddie hums, head cocked the way he does when he’s trying to condense like five paragraphs of rambling thoughts into reasonable sentences.

“Eds? We doing this tonight?” Steve asks, running his feet gently over Eddie’s leg. Eddie squeaks.

“Well Steve, sweetheart, darling.” Eddie joins Steve on the floor then plops his head down on Steve’s lap. “I was thinking… I’m trying to make it up to you, for being such a shitty boyfriend.”

Steve shrugs, running his hand along Eddie’s soft, fuzzy face. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not mad. But I get it. Those guys stuck by you after you went AWOL for nearly a year then resurfaced as a cat-seal-human hybrid. And this is your career…”

Eddie sits up abruptly so he can grab Steve’s wrist and moves his hands to Eddie’s chest. Steve can feel Eddie’s razor sharp talons against skin. It’s not drawing blood. Not yet. But it’s a reminder of all the times when Eddie did, the times when Eddie let Steve feel the sharp pain of claws going through skin, the times Eddie dragged his claws over his body, covering him in beautiful specks of blood and pink lines that would last for hours. Eddie lets the silence drag on, tightens his grip a bit so the claws are digging almost deep enough to break the skin. Steve feels his shoulders relax as his world narrows down to Eddie—his eyes, his claws, his grip.

“Steve,” Eddie says finally.

“Eddie?”

“My career means fuck all compared to you.”

“I…”

“I mean it. I’ve failed you spectacularly if I’ve been making you feel like you deserve anything less than being my top, top priority.”

Steve shrugs as his world widens again. It feels bad to say that yes, Eddie hasn’t been making him feel like a top priority this tour. Or any type of priority. Especially when Eddie’s saying that that’s a spectacular failure. It’s not like Steve isn’t used to this.

“And don’t you dare say something like how you’re used to it in that casual tone,” Eddie growls, “I’ll cry on you. I’ll get snot all over your perfect hair. Watch me.”

“Ok, ok!” Steve says. There’s a knot at his throat that’s threatening to turn into tears. But he’s not going to do that. He’s a grown ass man. A grown ass man who’s running a tour. A grown ass man who’s supposed to be the safe rock in Eddie’s supernaturally fucked-up life.

“So, anyway. You’re supposed to be my top priority and I fucked it up. And… I’d really really like to make it up to you.”

“How?”

“I want to draw you a nice long bath first,” Eddie says, slowly stroking up and down Steve’s thighs, going in and out of his shorts. “I want to wash your hair, soap you all up, lotion you, do all the skincare routine for you that you’ve had to miss during tour.”

“That sounds… not terrible,” Steve muses. There’s no way Eddie actually got all the stuff required for his skincare routine.  Eddie hasn’t needed any skincare in forever. The man is covered in some sort of water-proof fuzz. Even the hairless patches of scarred skin heal from anything within a day or two. But Steve can play along for tonight. “After that?”

“Then I want to lay you down on the bed, all relaxed and pampered, and give you a deep, deep massage.”

“Since when do you know how to give massages?” Steve says laughing.

“Dude. I was sleeping on the ground for months! It was either learn or fight off the Demo-jackasses with a kink in my old-man back!”

“Hmm…” Steve’s pretty sure Eddie wasn’t massaging his own back in the Upside-Down, but he did decide to play along. “Alright. Then? After the massage? We just have a good Christian sleepover? Leave room for Jesus?”

“Well no, I was thinking that I’d tie you up.”

“Mhm? Mhm. Mhm?”

“Dude, I just felt your dick twitch. You’re adorable.” Eddie leans into Steve’s crotch to blow raspberries into the fabric.

“Anyway, I was thinking. I would tie you up real nice and loose, but only enough so you don’t get all in your head about repaying the favor or whatever,” Eddie says, gesturing vaguely. “Then I’ll suck you off with the breeder dildo up your ass. Make it vibrate. What do you say?”

“But… what about you?” Steve asks. He hates how quiet and uncertain he sounds.

“Baby, please. Just for tonight, can it be about you? Just you?” Eddie says, “If it really bothers you, just think of it as payback for all the times you had to jerk me off by yourself before we figured out how to deal with my talons.”

Steve wants to say no. It’s not fair. But Eddie’s deep brown eyes are hypnotic. “Ugh, alright.”

“Yes!” Eddie says, punching the air, way too happy for a man who just decided he wasn’t getting off for the night. “Now, please undress to your comfort level while I go run the bath.”

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

Steve looks on in disbelief. All his products are laid carefully out by the foot of the tub so there’s no risk of them falling into the tub. The water’s even the perfect temperature. There’s bubbles.

“Where did you get all this?” Steve asks, touched.

“Well, after I yelled at the boys for being unreasonable dickheads, I ran out to the city.” Eddie lifts Steve easily and gently lowers him down into the tub. “And I know what products you use because err… I like to sniff them? When you’re gone? They smell like you?”

Steve looks at Eddie, an eyebrow raised. Eddie squirms a little. The bathroom is damp. The tub’s steam wafts over Eddie, wetting down the fur so it forms beautiful cowlicks and waves. The bright light of the bathroom bounce off the scales scattered across Eddie’s body, making them glitter. The hairless patches of scar tissue only accentuate the gorgeous strangeness of all that is Eddie. He looks ethereal, shy, adorable. Steve feels the last of his anger melt away at the sight of Eddie’s clawed hands nervously curling and uncurling.

“Oh my god,” Steve hears himself say.

Eddie turns his head. If he weren’t covered in fuzz, he’d be blushing.

“No no, don’t get all fluttery on me now. That’s insane in the best way. You’re such a perv.” Eddie flashes a shy but pleased smile.

“I mean, have you seen my boyfriend?” Eddie says, gesturing at Steve in the tub. He squeezes himself behind Steve. He pulls Steve into his chest and Steve rubs his back into Eddie’s torso, relishing in the contrast between the fur and ridged smoothness where there’s no hair, just scarred skin.

“And the water’s perfect too,” Steve sighs, settling deeper into Eddie.

“Oh is it?” Eddie chuckles, “I’m glad I called Robin then, even if she did threaten to bury me.”

“Why… does she know my bath temperature?”

“Was she not supposed to know that?”

“No? Though… she probably just gave you her perfect bath temperature, which apparently is also mine because of course it would be.”

“You know what? I’m not going to think too hard about that. Anyway. Yeah, so I was going to set up the hotel room like this for you as a surprise. But I like this better.” Eddie kisses Steve’s hair. “Thanks for letting me in with you. For… giving me a chance.”

“You deserve all my chances.” Steve closes his eyes and relaxes into the water as Eddie runs water over his hair. Eddie clears his throat loudly.

They don’t need words while Eddie pulls off Steve’s entire bath routine perfectly even though he has to work with his knuckles because of the claws. By the time they’re done, Steve feels wrung out in the best way, the way he does after Eddie’s been playing with him for hours. When they’re done, Eddie helps him out of the bath and even dries him off. He probably doesn’t need to pay quite that much attention to Steve’s asshole and balls, but he’s not about to complain.

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

“You still want that massage and blowjob?” Eddie asks as he lays Steve on the bed, carefully placing his head on a pillow.

“Mmmm…” Fuck, thinking is hard. “I’m real tired. So I’m worried I’ll fall asleep if you give me a massage. But… I do want you to tie me up.”

“One big boy sausage coming right up,” Eddie says, gently kissing Steve on the forehead. Steve stretches out while Eddie grabs the rope. Then he stretches out a little more because he likes the face Eddie makes as he watches. By the time Eddie comes around to the bed, Steve can see that Eddie’s fully hard. But Eddie doesn’t touch himself at all, choosing to use both hands to wrap Steve in ropes instead. Soon, Steve can feel the pressure of the ropes all around him, pressing exactly where he likes them. Eddie stands back and admires his handiwork.

Steve wiggles around and flutters his lashes coquettishly. Eddie giggles.

“Do you want the breeder dildo still?” Eddie asks, smiling fondly.

Steve hesitates. Eddie looks so tired. He’s already taken an hour so just for Steve’s bath and that was after he’d been running all over to find Steve’s products. “You don’t have to,” he says.

Eddie frowns. He retreats to go grab the toy. Standing at the foot of the bed, Eddie strokes himself a little so he can gather his precum. He mixes it in with the lube he slathers onto the toy’s length. Steve watches.

“I do Steve,” Eddie leans down to suck at Steve’s neck, grazing down a little. Steve shivers. “I do have to. Right now. Tomorrow. Every day.”

The knot returns to the base of his throat. Steve throws his head back to force it down. Eddie takes advantage, running a canine over the extended length of Steve’s neck. Eddie preps Steve blindly, keeping his mouth on the moles along Steve’s inner thigh as he slowly and carefully works him open with dildos of varying sizes. His talons occasionally nick at the soft skin around Steve’s rims–at first by accident, then a few more times on purpose when Steve moans at the hot, pleasant burst of pain. By the time Eddie pushes the dildo in, Steve is already shaking. Eddie turns the vibration on low and licks along Steve’s cock as Steve writhes and whines.

Eddie swallows Steve’s entire cock in one go and it takes all of Steve’s self control not to buck up into his throat. Steve seizes up. That sends the dildo up higher so it’s vibrating directly into his prostate. There’s too much sensation. It’s too good. Eddie’s hot, soft mouth bobs up and down. Eddie’s hands roam everywhere. The dildo is setting his nerves on fire. All of it chinks away at Steve’s control over the growing knot in his chest.

Steve sobs when he cums. Eddie nearly spits out Steve’s cock in his hurry to get to Steve’s face. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” Eddie wraps Steve, bound and with the vibrator still quietly whirring in his ass, into his chest. When Steve doesn’t stop crying, Eddie moves his legs so he can use all limbs to wrap around Steve. Steve sobs harder. Eddie clutches Steve harder, crooning nonsense words. Steve feels Eddie’s dick go from fully hard to soft in record time against his thigh. It reminds him of a snapping turtle for some reason. Steve starts laughing hysterically in between sobs.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve gasps, laughing and crying. Jesus, he can feel his nose running but he can’t do anything about it because he’s still trussed up in Eddie’s arms. He feels flayed open. The only way out is to cry through it. The realization is weirdly calming. “It’s not you. It’s just… today was a lot and that was a lot of sensations.”

Eddie, thankfully, lets Steve continue hiding in the safety of his chest. “So it was like a release?” He nuzzles into Steve’s hair. “Come to think of it, I think this is the first time you’ve cried around me.”

“I don’t, you know, cry. And it feels especially unfair to cry at you when you’ve literally been through hell and back.” Steve says, sniffling. “Besides, I have a hideous cry face.”

Eddie pushes Steve’s face away from his chest at that, the bastard. “Who dared make fun of your cry face?” He whisper-shouts in his signature medieval bard voice. “It’s so pretty.” Eddie starts pecking all over Steve’s face. “So shiny.” Another peck. “So handsome.” He licks this time.

“Dude, my nose is running,” Steve says giggling, trying to move his head away. He squeals when Eddie grabs his hair to hold his head in place. But Eddie isn’t laughing along. He looks at Steve with that dark look that won’t allow Steve to hide behind quips and self-deprecating humor.

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie says slowly. “It’s not unfair to feel things around me. I want you to.”

There’s silence. Steve swallows. Eddie continues to stare. The tug at his hair gets a little mean, perfectly so, enough to knock away at the last shred of Steve’s dignity. Maybe it was never dignity.

“What if it’s too much?” Steve whispers.

“It’s not too much,” Eddie whispers back. He loosens his grip. The tug turns into gentle caresses. Eddie pulls Steve back into his chest. Steve nuzzles into it, rubbing the snot all over his face and Eddie’s remaining nipple. “Please trust me on that?”

“I’ll try.”

[thebluestbluewords]

the leaders of tomorrow (could be canon fodder of today)

“Auradon Preparatory Academy is a boarding school focused on building the leaders of tomorrow,” Evie reads off one of the glossy brochures they’d snagged from the lobby. “Explore our rigorous academic programs, competitive athletics department, and much more.” 

“Guess we’re the ‘more’,” Mal snarks, lifting her hands into the most sarcastic air quotes she can muster. “Villain kids aren’t exactly brochure material.” 

“Maybe you’re not brochure material, babe,” Evie says, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a sweet-smelling swoosh. “But I’m the most beautiful one on this campus, and I think it’s a travesty that they haven’t reprinted all their brochures to feature exclusively me.” 

“And me.” Jay adds, leaning over to snag the pamphlet out of Evie’s hands. 

Mal grins. “I could probably do that. Magic can do a lot of cool shit now that we’re not locked away. You want me to find and replace every stupid prep kid in this thing with your face?” 

Evie laughs, and the sound is so sweet that it makes Mal want to hit something. In a good way. “That feels like a waste of magic, babe. We probably have better things to do with our time.” 

“Yeah we do,” Carlos interrupts. He’s got the brochure now, and is flipping through it faster than Mal can follow. “Look. Dive into science with our state of the art chemistry lab, where students blah blah blah, nobody cares about teacher-student ratios, but look.”

Mal looks. 

“A science lab.” 

Carlos makes a gloriously disdainful noise at her. “It’s a state of the fucking art science lab. This is the best science lab money can buy. And we have student access.” 

Great. 

“So that means,” Mal starts, waving a hand. “We have what? Chemical weapons? Kingdom secrets?” 

She could go for a good chemical weapon. They used to throw colored smoke bombs at each other for fun, but if they can get their hands on better supplies, that means better smoke bombs, better fireworks, and potentially better weapons they can stockpile for when her mother inevitably tries to have them all killed again. 

Carlos shrugs. He’s a talented liar, but after so long spent in each other’s pockets, Mal knows his tells too well for him to get outright bullshit past her. He’s excited about something in the lab, no matter how cool he’s trying to play it off, “We could have chemical weapons, sure.” 

Mal narrows her eyes into a poisonous green glare. “Or?” 

“We could synthesize a chemical to melt through steel. Or get actual organic material for making melt away stitches that aren’t shit. Or explosives, if we want to blow the whole isle to hell.” 

His eyes are fucking lit up with the potential, and Mal doesn’t have the heart or the willpower to tell him that they’re not going to blow up the isle. 

Probably. 

“I wouldn’t mind blowing up my dad,” Jay says slowly, leaning over to peer at the picture of the science lab. “Like, we should probably follow through with the original plan, and get our parents through the barrier before we plant explosives around their beds, but I’m down for some chaos.” 

“Chaos sounds great!” Evie says brightly. “I was thinking that we should steal enough chemicals to glue Fairy Godmother’s office door shut so we never have to go to that ridiculous goodness class again, but I’m down for murder if that’s what everybody else is feeling!” 

[therosebunpost]

I have been INSPIRED

CW: 18+ content, swearing, MDI

———

Okay so, imagine it’s Post-Vecna. You and Eddie have been dating for a while, and unfortunately you’re going through a rough patch. Miscommunication, unhealthy coping mechanisms, fights, lack of intimacy (both sexual and non-sexual). You miss him, you miss Eddie so much, and he misses you too but you’re both too stubborn to actually talk it out and be vulnerable with each other.

One night, you go to bed after a fight. A big one that deepens the cracks between the two of you. Honestly, it makes you wonder if it’s even worth it to stay anymore. You both are so unhappy all the fucking time, and yet you aren’t doing anything to fix it. You go to bed, praying, wishing it all was just…better. Easier. There’s even a part of you, a part you don’t like to think about, that wishes Eddie was better. It flares up whenever you fight like this, and it’s been happening so often that you wonder if maybe that’s what you truly think of him.

Anyway, you go to bed and you dream. You wake up in this hazy, slightly out of focus dream world with the moon glowing through the window. There’s rustling in the kitchen, you go to wake Eddie bit he isn’t in bed with you. You find him standing over the stove instead, sleepy and soft looking. His curls messy with sleep, but almost begging to be touched. To be ran through like you used to do every night before bed.

“Eddie?”

There’s a beat of silence. The sizzle of something in the pot buzzes in your ear. You stare at his back, faintly following the line of nail scratches along his skin from a drunken stint of fucking that didn’t really feel as satisfying as it should have. God, how long had it been since that night?

“Eddie, dude, it’s like 3 in the fucking morning, what the hell are you doing?” You try again, irritation bubbling in your chest. “What, you’re ignoring me now? Seriously? Eddie, I swear to fucking god-“

“The names not Eddie, Sweetheart.”

The deepness of his voice catches you off guard. It’s the same voice he uses when he DMs, or around you because he knows how much you like the sound of it. Well, you usually enjoy the sound of it, but right now you wanted to shake some sense into him. You stride closer, the sizzling getting louder. Fuck, is he going to start another fire in the god damn kitchen? “I’m tired, I have work tomorrow, I don’t have time for your fucking bullshit Ed- What the fuck is that?”

There’s something on the pan. Some kind of meat? Mangled, and twisted. It definitely wasn’t that pack of ham you bought yesterday, that’s all you knew. “Eddie what the actual fuck is that, tell me-“

“I’ll tell you when you stop callin’ me that, Darlin~”

“Fine, okay, what the fuck do I call you then?”

There was a pause, a little chuckle that left the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

“How about…Kas?”

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love.

Chapter 4: This is it, the Apocalypse. 

“Myrt?” Arcade pondered “you ok?”, “I need time to chill the fuck out before I go in and fix his hand” she mumbled “guys I’ll be up in my room for a bit, don’t disturb me ok?” she said as she stumbled to her room, Rex following not too far behind her.

“Is she gonna be alright, should I check on her?” Cass pondered, “Myrt’s just needing “alone time” right now Cassidy” Boone said “she needs to just…”, “you need to talk to her Craige, if she’ll listen to anyone it’s you” Raul said as he sipped his coffee.

Myrtle was in her room scrounging around “c’mon, c’mon where are you?” she grumbled as she looked for what she needed.

She finally found what she was looking for, hidden on the top shelf of her gun cabinet, a small tin box and a bottle of vodka. “Just a few mentats and a shot of happy juice…” she mumbled. She flipped open the tin and Rex started to whimper.

“C’mon now Rexie-baby, don’t gimme them sad eyes…” she grumbled, Rex just whimpered sadly and whent to go hide under her bed, she sighed “you wouldn’t understand puppers…”

She sat on her bed and looked at the bottle…

“Maybe just some happy juice for right now” she pondered, Rex whimpered, “ok, ok Rexie-baby…I’ll just…I’ll just read some Grognak comics for now”, Rex’s tail wagged. 

Cicero felt so…blissful…but he knew it was an illusion, he HAD to escape. These daedra in human disguises would do…Sithis know what to him…

He shifted and looked down at his hand, it was scratched up and bleeding a little…

Cicero bit and licked at his wrist to lubricant it, then with enough effort he managed to slip his hand out. With one arm out he got to work trying to free his other hand…no use.

His other hand was cuffed tighter than the other one. “Sithis damn it” he grumbled…

He heard footsteps coming, he started to panic “oh bother and befuddle, what if they see me uncuffed?!”, the door opened…

Myrtle walked in with medical supplies, “ok buddy, please let me take a look at that hand, ok?” she said as she approached him, Cicero saw in the bag a sharp knife…

“Ok, so buddy, hear me out” Myrtle said as she gently took Cicero’s injured hand “I’am not a daedra-thing out to hurt you ok?, I’am just a regular human like you”, Cicero wasn’t listening, he needed to get that knife…maybe if he could use his feet?..., “look, I know you're scared, you don’t know where you are and you have no idea what I am but given the fact that I haven’t once tried to kill you should clue you in that I mean you no harm so please” she moved the bag away from him “stop”.

 That just made Cicero angrier “well” he snarled “what do you intended to do to Cicero?”, she looked into his eyes “fix what you did to your hand first” she smirked “then when you're all bandaged up I’am taking you to Usanagi first thing tomorrow, so she can help me find out why there are so many screws loose in you”.

Cicero had to try a different tactic with her, to get out of his bindings and find his way back to Tamriel, he had…to play along.

Maybe even try charming her a bit…

“Metal woman…has anyone told you your metal eye is very pretty?”, she chuckled “thanks for the flattery…even though I know bullshiting when I hear it bud” she smirked. 

(Speech 100 vs Speech 15)

Cicero pouted, Myrtle eyed him, “sorry short king but you ain’t no casanova” she giggled, Cicero grumbled, “now we are having gecko kebabs for lunch, you what anything with yours? Insta mash?, Blamco mac n cheese, I have a few boxes of fancy lad snack cakes if you want one” she smiled.

He turned away and huffed, “no need to be so grumpy, I AM really trying to help you” she shrugged.

She left the room and Cicero looked at his cuffed hand, if only he had a lock pick…or a knife…

He looked around the room, there was little to be found say for the dresser, a window and a bed, he wondered what was in the dresser? He stretched himself out and reached for the bottom dresser drawer, inside he found strange metal coins and a few metal pins of some kind.

He took the pins and hid them under himself, later on at night when it was dark and quiet he would make his escape.

“Ok since you didn't specify what ya wanted I got ya a bit of everything” Myrtle said as she entered the room with a fully loaded plate: it had 3 huge honey mesquite-grilled gecko kebabs covered in a homemade nuka-cola jalapeno bbq sauce, blamco mac n cheese, fluffy instamash with brahmin butter on top, elote maize and to wash it all down she was even giving him an ice-cold sunset sarsaparilla.

She sat it all down next to him “and I even got you this” she said as she gave him a small white frosted cake of some kind.

“Now can I trust you with a fork to not stab yourself or me please?” she sighed, Cicero nodded, she watched, observing him closely as he looked at the food suspiciously.

Cicero had never seen food like this before, let alone was going to eat it, but to play along and survive…he would have to. He looked at everything on the plate, he recognized the “instamash” as mashed up potatoes so he tried that first…it was actually pretty good.

Fluffy, buttery and lightly salted, good potatoes, next he tried the “maize” it was butter, spiced with flavorful zest and crunchy, overall really good.  The mac n cheese stuff on the other hand…

Oh sweet Sithis, it was GOOD!

It was creamy and cheesy and was by far the best thing he had ever eaten, then he tried the kebabs…

Good lord his mouth was on fire!, he instantly regretted taking such a big bite and looked around for something to drink, “sarsaparilla” Myrtle pointed to the strange orange bottle. He had trouble getting the odd metal cork off the top of it, it looks like one of the strange metal coins from the drawer, she helped him out and he guzzled it down.

It was sweet! And the flavor though strange was quite enjoyable, Cicero then looked at the little cake.

He tasted it…it was like…like a sweetroll, Cicero sighed…he wanted to be back home in the sanctuary…

He began to panic again, if he did not get back soon, who would tend to the Night Mother?!

“Alright you finished?, I’ll see you again at dinner, hey let me know if you want any snacks or if you want to talk, ok?” Myrtle took his plate and walked away, “oh yes…see you soon…” Cicero grinned.

He would see her again…after all…he can’t have any of them following him now can he?

[coldresolve]

A huge part of the whump being torture apologia discussion comes from the fact that people exoticize torture. It's foreign. It's something you see in spy movies and read about in thrillers. It's a pain that most people can safely distance themselves from in order to experience emotional catharsis or simple enjoyment. The thing is, some people don't get to have that distance.

It's hard for me to describe the sheer grief that comes with it all. I know a man who was tortured in prison. People who faced abuse from family so severe that it amounted to torture. Someone whose torture was to watch their friends be deliberately hurt. I wish whump writers could learn to have compassion for these people as well, even if their lived experiences are not exceptionally common or openly spoken about.

If an author portrays domestic abuse in their writing, it's generally considered necessary and responsible for them to either write the abuse in a realistic way or to state outside their writing that their portrayal of this very real issue is unrealistic. This respects people's lived experiences with abuse and prevents creating a culture of normalizing and glorifying abusive behavior.

It's most definitely not too much to ask of whump writers to uphold those same standards when writing about torture.

you have no idea how nice it is to get someone well spoken and well thought out in my inbox every once in a while. uh im on like hr 30 of being awake and kinda struggling piecing my thoughts together right now, so forgive me if i dont make a lot of sense, but i wanna say sth

the tone of your ask for some reason really hit a nerve for me. like getting slapped in the face, kind of. i think its the fact you come across really compassionate and just. calm, thoughtful in this. kinda puts my approach into perspective lol

i think im just angry about this topic. like ive got a passion for wanting to get it right, but its driven by anger and frustration. having ppl nitpick the fuck out of everything i say instead of actually having the sorts of conversations that should be had about the topic. i know me being angry edgy tantrum controversial oh whats he gonna say now guy and all that, turns people away from listening to me but i dont know how else to approach it sometimes, i don't want to make excuses for people who i feel should know better. i dont have that kind of patience i guess, at least not right now

i think that anger is like a manifestation, symptom. im angry about the people this happens to, and how catastrophic it is. angry at the people who let it happen. the systems that are built around it. people don't see how systemic torture can be. im angry that the fucking war on terror media frenzy was so effective, because your average person still fucking believes in all the bullshit. or the idea of torture survivors being "broken" like its a personal failure, like its the result of their own shortcomings when they're some of the strongest people you can meet. just all these unfair ideas about it that are everywhere. and people still somehow find it necessary to keep spreading those ideas, even if they know theyre wrong. when it doesnt add anything of value, youre not saying anything about it, youre not actually adding something to the conversation by going along with the bullshit, youre literally just entertaining yourself

i dont know how to not be angry about it, i think. thats the growth goal for me i guess, cause i know this isnt the sorta thing thats gonna fix itself tomorrow. and i dunno your ask just made me think about that, like how i handle this on a personal level. and i think itd be healthy for me to step away from the discussion for a couple days at least and just. accept that i tried to reach people this round, maybe it didnt really work, thats fine, ill try again some other time. also i am writing all this very slowly cause my skull is kinda collapsing in on itself so to speak and maybe that has something to do with me being sorta hopelessly frustrated lmfao. apologies

[beatsboy]

8.1.24 / day 39 of romanticizing my life until i love myself again

lughnasadh - the first harvest

i saw tb today it kills me how pathetic i feel around them, still how i can barely focus how i turn into just pure putty (with spikes)

today is lughnasadh, the pagan holiday for the first harvest asking myself what i’ve harvested this summer, what i still need to harvest into the next season what i need to tend to sometimes it feels like i’ve done nothing but been holed up in my apartment and then i realize, i moved, on my own, into my own place for the first time in my life, and even though i feel like i’m d r o w n i n g mentally, financially, creatively i am still the stable friend, i am the only one who is completely self-supportive and making it work somehow and i did this shit, on my own i mean, obviously i’ve had help, and i’m so grateful to the friends who’ve shown up for me in this process sometimes, though, i think i forget to take a moment and appreciate myself for what i’ve done

i am lonelier these days, it’s true before i was overwhelmed it is so hard to get to know yourself in so much noise

and when did i become so afraid of the world, of other people, of myself, my decisions when did i become so weary of the present and revert to what i swore off years ago

addicted to deadlines, hyper scheduling, treating your passion like a job you are chained to, viewing art as a business venture—and you think that will save you now? you think that will give you what you’re searching for? what? because your father said so? because he is so happy and satisfied and in love and successful and never has to work a day in his life because it’s his passion? of course not, silly

do not become what you hate simply because the other option is unknown

��first, you are an artist,” kingston told me

and i look back on my days, spent nesting, spent dealing with other peoples’ bullshit, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, resetting everything to perfection every day anxious about money trying to conjure work into thin air by worrying it into existence (it doesn’t work) wondering why my friends aren’t texting me wondering why no one can hang out wondering why i’m not done with this song yet

in those days i did not prioritize being an artist, i did not prioritize my art, i did not feel like an artist first the past week i have just begun to feel like an artist first again

and it’s ok, sometimes you need to take time to find solid ground and sometimes, it’s hard to come back, even when you’re ready, even when you need it, because coming back to your instruments, your machines, is like coming back to a lover you haven’t seen in a couple of months, touching their body for the first time, you remember everything of course, but sometimes, things change, evolve, some things don’t work the way they’re supposed to and you have to trouble shoot in the beginning (maybe they’re nervous) (that’s what i tell myself every time ableton crashes)

so now, it’s time to remember: it’s okay to make a late payment, feed yourself and make music while you wait for work it’s okay to let the sink get a little full, keep making music, don’t disrupt your flow by going into a cleaning spiral it’s okay to eat what you can and not spiral while trying to keep up with the instagram organic all the food in the grocery store is poisoning you girlies it’s okay to get the cheaper produce, you’re eating vegetables and that’s great it’s okay to leave it til fucking tomorrow it’s okay to let it all go and be an artist

what else were you doing with that time, keeping house and being anxious? make some art about it, it feels better than cleaning i know this compulsion of yours has become self-soothing, but remember that is what art is for, not sweeping.

let go, and make some art this season

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I’m behind on reading/commenting ugh. I did read one of the fics that updated but it made me sad. But like it wasn’t even really a sad fic, it was more open.

This is getting angry and ranty so I’m hiding it under the cut

But idk I’m just so so so tired of my queen being given the short end of the stick. Again it’s why I hella overcompensate and make him suffer. But it’s v annoying to me that he can do whatever and my queen will still love him? Fuck that bullshit. I’m sick of it. I’m sure it’s cause I’ve never been in romantic love so I don’t get it, but if that’s what it’s like I don’t want to understand. All these stories I hear of women staying in toxic relationships where as the men are always able to leave their shituationship and find better matches, is so difficult for me to wrap my head around. This is just in regards to the people in my real life and from some podcasts I listen to (and social media shit) but I swear the percentage is heavily skewed to women trying to save their shitty relationship while the men are able to break out of it.

Anyways, yeah it’s why I absolutely loathe fics where he’s a scumbag and my queen suffers but ultimately he gets to keep her. First that seems very ooc to me, but I also write him ooc too but just way opposite from that. So I guess whatever. But again I ask why must my queen suffer? Hasn’t she suffered enough? Why are we putting her through all this bullshit and tearing her down and making her believe she can only love this one man? Is this supposed to be romantic? Like what? Like oh wow, guess she’s so fucking lucky he decided to choose her after fucking around and being an absolute dick. Grody.

I swear I’m just too American or at least too much of a Vegas gal to be okay with this. Because I see this shit so much in fics and irl I am fucking terrified of it happening to me. To lose my complete sense of self for an underserving asshole who makes me question love? I would rather die. Like kill me please. Cause if there’s anything I know, it’s love. I’m Lots of Love for crying out loud! All forms of it! It’s not just romantic, but the rest of the world seems to think it’s the only one that matters. And I know I’m guilty of that too, cause I am to my core a hopeless romantic. But when it is pure. Not this brainwashed mess where men can be whores but women aren’t allowed to even look at another person.

Back on my fuck first love being the only love bullshit. I fucking hate this trope when it applies to only women. Not super fond of it with men either, but that’s more of a dig at my main fandom I can’t even enjoy anymore.

Would love to read a fic where she’s the player instead of him and it’s perfectly fine. Make him the one who wonders for fucking once. Does she love him? Maybe. Is she enjoying her life and fucking around? Absolutely and as she should! Not caring that she’s stringing him along cause he’s the back up that she knows she can always go back to, and maybe she does actually love him. Go figure.

Some days I get so angry I just want to write a fuck you fic, but also I don’t cause I hate writing and I have too many other projects I would rather finish so I never have to write again. But then I think about having to read these fics and noping out or sticking it out and being pissed even though I knew where it was going and I would hate it. And I’m like hella judgey but at least I’m not an awful person who leaves rude comments for a fic not meant for me. Yeah if you do that shit you’re a fucking asshole and I want nothing to do with you.

I didn’t intend to start this post off so angry, and now I don’t even remember my main reason for trying to make an update here. I’ve just annoyed myself and I need to leave or else I’ll be too tired for my hopeful boost of serotonin tomorrow (or today rather). I’m probably just irritated from being at the airport like all day. I love traveling but some airports and airlines suck.

Anyways main point, let Shiho bejeweled! Don’t keep her locked up in the basement! She’s a diamond, so let her shine damn it!