#That shows kinda fucked but in a good way

[punkrockmlchael]

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist

FanBoy!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Fem Reader

(Both Eddie and Reader are 18+)

This fic is for: birthday boy pop-up event by @corrodedcoffinfest ; the prompt is “gift”

Prompt: Gift | Word Count: 8,897 | Rating: E | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Eddie Munson x Popstar!Fem Reader | Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Weed and Underage Drinking | Tags: Eddie Munson, Fanboy Eddie, Popstar Reader, Concert, Gift, Meet and Greet, Celebrity Crush

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Eddie is lowkey a Pervert with so many thoughts about you, Dirty Talking, Kinda a Fanboy kink if you can call it that? (Mutual between Eddie and Reader), Smut: Oral (Fem and Male Receiving), Fingering, Cum Eating, Protected PinV, afab reader

Synopsis: Eddie was your biggest fan; it started after Gareth decided to drag him to your concert. Now, Eddie just doesn't shut up about you. So, the guys decide to come together and pitch in on an amazing Birthday gift for Eddie. This is based off of this blurb I had written and I had people ask for more of these two (including them actually meeting); so woo! Also this slowly turned into the longest fic I have ever written so, I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 8.8k

Two months.

It had been two months since your newest album had been released to the public—copies of the vinyls sat in record stores far and wide while your top song played on every radio station on the top of every hour. 

It had been two whole months of Eddie Munson playing your album every day and night, no matter what he was doing within the four walls of his cluttered bedroom. 

Your pop sound and lyrics were a stark contrast to the usual heavy metal music that would ring through his room as he laid back on his bed, packing a bowl of the latest recommendation from his dealer. He’d play your music in the background while he messed around with his guitar, adding some heavy riffs to the poppy sounds that played from the record player. He’d sit on his bed, hand in his pants with his cock in his fist tightly; he’d stroke himself while your voice filled his ears, edging him closer and closer to release. The sound of your sweet and soft voice played late into the night, always seeming to help him drift off to sleep faster; and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that to anyone that would listen. 

Anyone. 

No, really, the Hellfire boys were so fucking sick of listening to Eddie bring you up in every conversation–during lunch at the cafeteria, between battles at Hellfire campaigns, during a late night smoke session in his van by the lake–it didn’t matter the occasion, your name was always rolling off of his lips like a prayer. It was like he was dating you; he spoke about you so highly and intimately, there was never anything negative spoken about you by that boy.

He was just such a love sick little puppy that thought about you every single minute of his morning, afternoon and evening. And the Hellfire boys always just shared looks and groaned while rolling their eyes when Eddie started talking about you. And Eddie noticed their looks, he noticed their annoyance with him but that didn’t stop him from speaking about you… it had actually gotten to the point where he would join the conversations of the cheerleaders just so he could talk about you and your music. 

You released a new song? He ran to the girls to ask if they had heard it yet before gushing over how good it was because, you never seem to have any songs that suck.

You announced a tour or a show near them? He was telling all the girls that he was going to do anything in his power to make sure he would be at that show, seeing you perform live yet again.

And, let’s be real, all these cheerleaders thought that was funny as hell, but they always allowed Eddie to join their conversations; in fact, some of the cheerleaders went out of their way and started the conversations with him. He was just like them—he was a fanboy at heart and he couldn’t help that you were his current unconventional musical hyper fixation at the moment. 

It had been two whole months of your posters and pictures being placed on his walls, hung up so carefully to ensure that they wouldn’t rip or tear. And, every time the guys came over he was constantly getting attacked and questioned by those pieces of paper. The posters were everywhere, there was one above his bed, there was one above his record player, hell, this motherfucker had one on the ceiling above his bed. You were the last thing he saw before he fell asleep and the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning, cheesy, right? And, fuck, did the Hellfire boys tease him about that. I mean, it’s not everyday that the stoner Metalhead had pictures of a pop princess on his wall. 

But, could you blame him? You just happened to look oh so good in those posters. 

And his favorite to this day was still the one of you in that short fucking black dress; he made sure that poster was above his record player so he could look at you while sitting on his bed. He just couldn’t help it—that picture didn’t leave anything to the imagination. The way your curves were so full and perfect, god, he wanted to run his hands all over your body, feeling every single curve and divet of your plush skin. The way your cleavage looked like it could pop out of that dress at any moment, god, he wanted to reach out and squeeze your breasts gently, hearing the small moans and whines escape your mouth while he massages them between his hands, thumbs running over your hardened nipples slowly. Eddie just loved that dress on you so much but he desperately wanted to see it on his bedroom floor–preferably in a pile with his own clothes while you were pressed up against him, moaning and groaning his name with each and every thrust he made. 

He had countless thoughts about you since he had first listened to that album and somehow each one seemed worse than the last. 

He knows, he knows–he’s a pervert. You don’t have to tell him twice.

Seriously, though, each thought was worse than the last. He’s imagined you on your knees in front of him, hand wrapping around the base of his cock while taking it in your pretty little mouth. He’s imagined you on your knees on his bed while he's thrusting into you from behind, so deep and fast that you are screaming his name. He’s imagined hovering over you, kissing the soft skin of your neck as he thrusts into you slow and deep, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He’s imagined you on top of him, riding on his cock with your tits bouncing in his face. He’s imagined quickies with you after your shows in the dressing room, directly backstage, in the bathroom. You name it he’s probably thought of it with you. 

Eddie was just so whipped and craved you. Craved to know how you felt, how you smelled, how you tasted, how you sounded… he craved to know every little thing about you; all your little imperfections, quirks, any skeletons you had hidden in your closet. He just craved to know you on such an intimate and personal level. But, sadly, you were just a celebrity crush who didn’t even know he existed. 

At least, until tonight.

Tonight you were back in Hawkins, Indiana for a concert. Tonight, on Eddie Munson’s 19th birthday, you were in Hawkins, Indiana. You were in his hometown for his birthday. God, it was like the stars were aligning to give him the best birthday he’s had in a while, if not ever.

Eddie had purchased his ticket for your show months ago, literally the day they went on sale; he had called Gareth and bought a ticket for both of them (and, Gareth wasn’t entirely thrilled about that, but he knew he had to support his best friend… especially on his birthday). 

He had his ticket, he had his best friend by his side, he knew your new songs front to back; he was beyond ready for your concert.

But, the Hellfire boys had a surprise gift for him. They all knew he had a concert ticket, hell, the entire school knew he had a ticket to your show tonight. But, what he didn’t have was a meet and greet VIP ticket… at least, until Jeff pulled some strings with his dad who worked at the venue you were going to be performing at. 

And, my god, you should have seen the look on Eddie’s face when he opened that gift. At first, he looked at the Hellfire boys with a questionable look, he already had tickets, he didn’t need them. But when he read the words “VIP Meet and Greet Ticket” with your name next to it? Yeah, he screamed. A literal scream left his mouth as he thought about meeting you, talking to you, hugging you. And Gareth shook his head because he knew he’d have to stand next to Eddie the entire time during this Meet and Greet. (But, come on, Gareth was also secretly excited to meet you and see you face to face as well; he was just… not excited to deal with Eddie the whole time…) 

So, now, Eddie stood next to Gareth waiting in the meet and greet line amongst a ton of younger girls and teenage girls that were all gushing to meet you. And Eddie was shaking from head to toe. He was both excited and terrified at the same time. What if you were mean? What if you hated him? What if you were a bitch? What if you aren’t like anything he has pictured you to be? What if everything he has thought about you was actually just something he made up and you weren’t that perfect little angel he has you made out to be?

He’s never met a celebrity before… are you really just a normal person like him? Do you enjoy going to the movies just like he did? Do you enjoy listening to music and getting high just like he did? Do you enjoy pancakes over waffles just like he did? Do you enjoy spending your free time with friends and family just like he did?

“Eddie,” Gareth said, looking at his friend. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Gareth, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hm?” He replied, looking at Gareth.

“We’re next,” Gareth said, motioning to the nonexistent line in front of them. Eddie gulped, looking up in front of him. He caught a glimpse of you and your smile and panicked. 

“I can’t do this,” Eddie said, shaking his head. Gareth rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yes, you can. Please, you don’t shut up about her. At least talk to her.” Gareth replied, looking at his friend. “She’s not going to bite you or anything.”

“She might.”

“Next!” The security guard called, looking up Eddie and Gareth. He raised his eyebrow slightly when he saw the two boys but shrugged, allowing them through. The pair walked towards the stage where you were standing in front of a pale pink and purple backdrop with hearts all over it. 

God, why was Eddie’s head spinning? He felt hot. He felt dizzy. He felt like the room was slowly melting away from around him as he stood there, looking at you. It felt like the heavens were opening up and shining down on you as you stood in front of them, glowing like an angel, a goddess, a beautiful princess that he wanted to sweep off your feet with his wit, charm and good looks.

You looked up at Gareth and Eddie and smiled, waving them towards you. “Hi!” You cheered. “Thank you for coming, oh my gosh!” 

God, when you spoke it sounded like a chorus of angels signing around you. Eddie had never been to church, but he felt like he wanted to fall to knees to worship you and sing your praises.

Gareth stepped towards you but Eddie didn’t, he just stood there frozen. He looked you up and down, taking in your appearance. Your hair and makeup were already clearly done for the concert—hair curled perfectly, not even moving as you moved your head side to side, beautiful soft pink eyeshadow with glitter overtop, making you sparkle each time you moved. You were wearing some baggy light blue jeans and a pink crop top that showed off your midriff perfectly. 

God, you were perfect. You were real, you were perfectly real, and you were standing right in front of Eddie, beckoning him towards you with those beautiful and subtle hand motions.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Gareth said softly, stepping closer to you. You smiled at him, opening your arms for a hug. Gareth didn’t decline, he wrapped his arms around you gently before pulling away, looking at Eddie. 

Eddie watched Gareth hug you before he stepped closer, a nervous smile on his face. “Hi,” he spoke softly. 

You opened your arms and Eddie quickly stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your body as he pulled you close to him. Your arms wrapped around him, smiling as you stood there embracing each other. His arms moved down to your waist gently as he held you against his soft and warm body. It felt like it was just you two in the room as you hugged, sparks flying around you like fireworks. He was so happy to be embracing you, to be holding you, and you allowed him to. You allowed him to hug you and hold you as long as he pleased; you didn’t pull away, you didn’t back away, you just hugged him tighter and smiled as he held you close to his body. 

After what felt like ages, Eddie finally pulled away from the hug, looking at you with a goofy and giddy grin on his face. Gareth glanced at Eddie and raised an eyebrow slightly before looking back at you. 

You smiled at them both, “thanks for coming to meet me and hang out!” You giggled, looking at them. “You probably know my name, but I don’t know yours…” You pouted, looking at the two boys in front of you that looked like they were at the wrong concert. Heavy metal band tees on, ripped jeans, boots on their feet; why on earth were they here to listen to you?

“I’m Gareth,” Gareth said softly, nodding with a smile. 

“I’m Eddie, it’s uh, it’s really cool to meet you. I’ve been listening to your music for quite some time and when I saw you were coming today I just had to come see you. Makes for a really cool birthday.” Eddie smiled, watching you. 

“Birthday? Oh my gosh, is today your birthday?” You asked, Eddie nodded slightly.

“Yeah, nineteen. Scary number,” he joked. 

“Our friend got him a meet and greet ticket for his birthday,” Gareth piped in, looking at Eddie. “He’s like, your number one fan.” 

“Oh my gosh, I was your birthday gift? That’s so cool!” You gushed, “thank you for listening to my music and supporting me, really, it means the world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do what I love doing without people like you.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie stuttered out, nodding at you. “Anytime,” he added. 

You smiled, looking at the boys. “Well, can I interest you in a picture together? A signed poster? I have to make sure my number one fan has the best birthday ever.” 

Eddie blushed. You just acknowledged him and called him your number one fan. Fuck. 

“Yeah, that'd be cool,” Eddie smiled, Gareth nodded as well. 

“Perfect, come here and smile for the camera.” You said, motioning towards the boys. They walked to you, standing on either side of you. Gareth stood on your left and Eddie stood on your right. You wrapped your arms around their backs gently and looked at the camera and smiled with the boys. Once the photo was taken you looked at Eddie with a smile. “Want a picture of just the two of us?” You asked. He looked at you nervously. 

“You, uh, you’d do that for me? Can we? Really?” He asked. You nodded. 

“Of course! Consider it a birthday gift from me to you.” 

Gareth took this as a sign to step away, leaving you and Eddie together for your own picture. You wrapped your arms around Eddie’s waist and smiled, leaning closer to him for the picture. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as a goofy grin appeared on his face.

After the photo was taken you hugged Eddie again, smiling at him. “Happy birthday, Eddie. It was nice to meet you and Gareth,” you said, glancing at Gareth. “I hope you both enjoy the show. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

“Thanks, princess,” Eddie smiled. Gareth smiled as well, waving at you. The two grabbed their posters and were on their way while you turned towards your next fan here for meet and greet—a little girl and her mom. You were crouching towards the ground to get to the level of the little girl as she ran towards you for a hug. You hugged her tightly and smiled, rocking her back and forth gently. 

Eddie looked back and watched from afar as he left. 

Fuck, did he love you.  

“I’ll be back,” Eddie yelled to Gareth over the noise of the bar. Your concert was over and Eddie was bummed to leave, so Gareth suggested heading to the Hideout for a few drinks to celebrate his birthday. Eddie reluctantly agreed, even though he’d rather be at home right now thinking about you with his pants around his ankles and his hand on his cock, stroking himself in time to your music.

Gareth nodded at Eddie, before going back to his conversation with Jeff. They were having a heated argument about something, but Eddie didn’t really listen to the details because he didn’t really care. That sounded rude, oh well, it was true. All he cared about right now was you. 

“Jack and Coke, please,” Eddie said as he walked up to the bar, away from Gareth and the other boys in the crowd. He grunted as he took a seat in one of the uncomfortable bar stools. The bartender looked up at him and smiled slightly, nodding to get him his drink. “Thanks, Mark,” Eddie added, watching the usual bartender go off to fix his drink. Once the drink was in his hand he raised it slightly, giving a nod to Mark as he began sipping on his drink. He looked around the bar, eyeing his surroundings as he usually did. 

Your concert was over, you had left the stage long ago and were probably a long ways away from Hawkins by now. Why would you stay here longer than you had to? Eddie sighed to himself, finishing the drink in his hand a little too quickly.

He had finally gotten to meet you, to hug you, to smell you. That was weird, yeah, he’s weird, but, did you know you smell like a mixture of roses and strawberries? Like, he was walking through a strawberry field with a bouquet of roses in his hands, on the way to give you said bouquet before falling to his knees to confess his undying love for you. Begging you for a chance to let him love you and hold you for as long as you would let him.

“Mind if I sit here?” A feminine voice rang through his ear on his left side. Eddie didn’t look up, he just nodded, mumbling what sounded like a yes as he stared down at the ice in the glass his hand was wrapped around tightly. “Thanks. Hi, I’ll have a Rum and Coke, please.”

That voice. Eddie knew that voice, he had listened to it everyday for the last two months. Not to mention, he basically drooled over it a few hours prior at the concert.

He stopped, looking up to his left. His eyes widened as he saw you sitting on the barstool next to him. Live and in the flesh.

God, you looked perfect.

Your hair was still holding its curl perfectly while resting against your shoulders, your sparkly stage makeup had been removed from your face leaving a more natural look but, damn, you still looked drop dead gorgeous. Instead of the pale pink sparkly mini skirt and matching top you wore during the concert, you now had the same baggy jeans from the meet and greet and a sweatshirt with your name on it. Wearing your own merchandise, huh? Damn, that’s hot.

You smiled as Mark slid the drink your way, leaving you with a flirty wink. “This one’s on the house, princess,” Mark said and Eddie shot him a glare. 

“Oh, why, thank you.” You replied, grabbing the glass in your hand. You brought it to your lips and smiled, sipping on the drink slowly. You glanced at Eddie, nodding at him with that adorable smile of yours. Fuck. “Hi, uh… Eddie, right?” You asked, remembering him all too well from your Meet and Greet earlier in the night. And, I mean, how could you forget him? Not many others showed up to your show with a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans and chains.

Not many people showed up like that but, damn, did you love it.

“Yeah, uh, hi. Uh, yeah, that’s me… Eddie,” he replied, nodding as he set his empty glass down on the bar, releasing his grip from it. “You, uh, remembered my name?” He asked, turning his body towards you slightly in the bar stool.

You smiled, nodding your head before sipping on your drink. “It's a little hard not to remember the name of my biggest fan.” You murmured, setting your drink down on the bar. “How was the show?”

“It was amazing, really good, actually. You always seem to kill it on stage…” Eddie said softly, taking in your appearance yet again. He just couldn't believe you were here in the Hideout and sitting right next to him. He was so scared that he was going to embarrass himself in front of you and ruin any chance he may have with you. Because, he totally believes he has a chance with you, yeah. “What, uh, what are you doing here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you’re here and sitting next to me but… I kind of figured you’d be on a tour bus driving as far away from Hawkins as possible right now. You know, getting ready for the next concert of your tour.” He rambled on, stopping at the end to take a breath.

You giggled softly, turning your body towards him. Your left elbow rested on the bar, your chin resting on your palm as a smile appeared on your face. “Why, thank you. I already said it once but, thank you for coming to my show tonight, it means alot. And, I don’t know; I don’t have another show for a couple days so I decided to stay in town for a bit… is that not a good idea? Is it not too fun here in Hawkins?” Your right hand reached for your drink, taking a couple sips as Eddie shrugged.

“Hawkins really isn’t that fun,” he admitted, smiling at the way you gave your full attention to him. Fuck. “But, I don’t know, with a gorgeous girl like you floating around… it might get better.” He smiled, leaning a little closer to you. You blushed softly, smiling at him. You finished your drink and set the glass on the bar. 

“Yeah? Is that so?” You asked, looking at Eddie again. You were able to actually take your time looking at him now, unlike earlier. Pretty brown doe eyes, beautiful yet nervous smile, long and shaggy curls that fell into his face a bit until he repositioned his head. 

“Absolutely. You might make it worth staying here,” he nodded. You smiled again, looking up at Mark as he came over towards you two, asking about drinks. 

“Yeah, I’ll take another Rum and Coke. And a drink here for my friend, Eddie, as well please.” Mark nodded at your words before walking off to make you and Eddie both another drink.  

“Woah, you don’t need to buy me a drink, princess. I’ll survive.”

“Actually, I do. Consider it a birthday gift,” you smiled, looking at Eddie with that stupid perfect grin on your face. “Speaking of, how was your birthday?” You asked, “I’ll have to admit, I’m still feeling slightly honored that you decided to spend your birthday with me.” 

“You already gave me a birthday gift today,” he argued, referring to the solo picture of the two of you from earlier. “But, my birthday was perfect. Actually, I didn’t think it could get better but, somehow, with you next to me… it’s definitely going to go down in history as the best birthday I’ve ever had.” Eddie replied, smiling widely at you. “Not everyday you get to spend your day with your favorite popstar, you know?”

“Oh, I’m your favorite popstar, huh?” You giggled, leaning closer to him. Fuck, that giggle. 

“Well, you’re definitely up there on my list.” Eddie smiled, a chuckle escaping his lips. Mark walked back over and set the drinks down on the bar before he walked away again. You both reached for your glasses, taking them in your hands. 

“Well,” you said, raising your glass. “Happy birthday, Eddie. And, cheers to many more for you.” You and Eddie clinked your glasses together before taking a sip out of them. 

“Thank you,” he replied, nodding. “Make it a note to come to Hawkins on my birthday every year?” He teased. 

“I'll see what I can do,” you responded with a flirty wink.

“You better,” Eddie replied with a goofy smile. You sipped on your drink more, smiling as you looked around the small bar.

“This place is cool,” you commented, looking back at Eddie. “And, you hate Hawkins?” He smiled.

“Not that I hate Hawkins,” he said softly. “More so that it’s a little… boring. Not much really happens here.” He added, shrugging. He watched you with a smile on his face as you continued to look around the bar, your eyes catching the stage in the corner.

“Is that a stage?” You asked, motioning towards the corner as you sipped on your drink. Eddie’s gaze followed your and he nodded, smiling as he took another sip of his drink.

“Oh, yeah! Tons of local bands play there every week, including mine. We play here every Tuesday night.”

“Woah, you're in a band?” You asked, suddenly a bit more interested in the boy sitting next to you. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, blushing slightly as you took more interest in him. “It’s, uh, it’s called Corroded Coffin; we play some more heavy metal sounds. I’m a guitarist and lead singer in it…” Eddied replied, nodding at you.

“Corroded Coffin, huh? Sounds cool,” you giggled, finishing your drink. You set the empty glass on the bar and looked at him, “heavy metal, huh? What makes me stand out so much that you listen to my silly little pop music then?” 

Eddie chuckled nervously, finishing his drink as well. “Well, you’re very pretty, you have an amazing voice and I do have a soft spot in my heart for pop music.” He replied, setting his empty glass down next to yours. “Guilty pleasure music, I guess you can say…”

“Well, I’m honored to be part of your guilty pleasure music.” You smiled, looking at him. “Oh, and I’d absolutely love to see and hear some Corroded Coffin songs, if you’ll show me, that is. I actually do enjoy listening to a heavier metal sound from time to time.” Eddie blushed, looking at you shocked.

“You listen to heavy metal?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “It’s funny, I make pop music but I tend to not listen to that in my free time, actually.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly as he learned more about you. “Huh. It appears there is a lot that I don’t know about you, pop princess.”

“Yeah, I get that alot,” you nodded. “So, you play guitar, huh? That’s a skill I wish I had, I’ve been pushing myself to learn but, I just have very little motivation.” You admitted softly.

“I could teach you,” Eddie suggested, looking at you with a goofy smile. “If you want me to, at least…” 

“I think I would love that, Eddie,” you giggled, looking at him. 

He smiled at your giggle, looking at you. “You’re really pretty,” he said softly, looking at you. You blushed, smiling softly.

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know that Mr. Metalhead?” You replied, causing Eddie’s cheek to turn a slight shade of pink.

And with that you were both leaning closer to each other, eyes glancing at each other’s lips as you moved closer and closer together. Time stopped. Eddie’s ears were ringing and he felt like he was vibrating. You were so close to him, so close. He could see the small freckles on your cheeks, wanting to connect them all like little constellations. He could see the tiny baby hairs that didn’t want to stay down no matter how much hairspray you used, wanting to push them back and play with them gently. He could see the small scar that sat on your forehead from when you face planted on stage one night. He could see everything, and you were so beautiful. 

You smiled your little smile, tilting your head to the side as your lips pressed against his softly. Eddie sighed, the feeling of your lips against his enough to make him weak in the knees. He moved his lips against yours, kissing you back softly as his hand moved to the side of your face. He held your cheek, caressing it even, as his thumb ran along the smooth skin. Your hand moved towards his face as well, pulling him closer during the kiss.

He suddenly forgot where he was. All the noises of the bar around; the clinking of glasses, the yelling of partiers, the sounds of men hitting on women… it was all gone. There was no one else in the room. 

It was just you and him. The way it was meant to be—the way he wanted it. The way he dreamed it would be for the rest of his life; you and him against the world. 

Eddie felt like he was dreaming. Or, he died and went to heaven. He wasn’t entirely sure which was true but he was counting his blessings, and mentally thanking Jeff for those meet and greet tickets because; fuck. That gift just keeps on giving. Literally. 

He wasn’t sure how, he wasn’t sure why, but, he didn’t fucking care about the logistics of all of this.

All Eddie cared about was the feeling of your lips on his neck as he struggled with his keys to the front door of the trailer. That, and the fact that his uncle wasn’t home, otherwise this would be awkward.

He finally got his key in the lock and turned it, pushing the door open. He stumbled inside the trailer, pulling you with him. He kicked the front door shut behind you both and led you to his bedroom, pinning you up against the back of the door. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, lips crashing into yours desperately. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer as you kissed him back, your lips moving against his with the same desperate want and need. 

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” you replied, fingers moving through his curls gently. He groaned, his hands finding your hips. He pushed his hips against yours, grinding against you slightly. A slight moan left your lips as your eyes closed and your head fell back against the door. “Fuck, Eddie,” you sighed.

He moaned a little too loudly when he heard you say his name like that, a literal pitiful moan left his mouth as he kissed down your jawline to your neck. He attacked your neck with kisses and nips, his hips still moving against yours with a slow rhythm. “God, princess, you sound so good saying my name like that,” he mumbled, biting down on your neck a little rougher. ”You don’t know how bad I want you.”

You whined at the bite, eyes opening to look down at Eddie. Your fingers ran through his curls, tugging them gently before you looked around his room. Your eyes caught sight of the posters of you on his wall and an accidental laugh left your lips. Eddie pulled away from your neck and looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong?” He continued, hoping you didn’t think this was a huge mistake. 

You giggled a little, shaking your head. “No, sorry, just, you have posters of me on your wall?” You asked, glancing back at the posters that sat above his bed and above his record player. 

Eddie’s cheeks turned a bright red as he turned his head, glancing at the two posters you were talking about. “Look, I just, they came with your vinyl!” He replied, trying to prove a point. “What else am I supposed to do? Let them sit in my closet and collect dust, I mean, look at you!” He added, frantically hoping this wasn’t a weird deal breaker for you. 

Your right hand moved to his face, caressing his cheek gently before you turned his head back to face you. “You’re cute, you know that?” You asked, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. “A perfect little fanboy,” you added, kissing his lips again. ”My fanboy.”

“Fuck, yeah,” he nodded, looking at you. “Definitely your fanboy,” he replied, kissing you again. “I wanna make you feel good, please, can I?” He asked, pulling you towards his bed. You nodded, following after him. 

He tugged your sweatshirt up, pulling it up and over your body before discarding it on the floor. He laid you back on his bed gently and crawled on top of you, kissing your lips softly. Slowly, he kissed down your neck and over your chest. Eddie left soft and sweet kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, stopping right above the button of your jeans. He looked up at you, brown eyes glowing and waiting for you to give him the okay to continue.

When you nodded your head, he undid your baggy jeans. You lifted your hips gently, allowing him easier access. He pulled your jeans off gently, tossing them on the floor with your sweatshirt. He sat up on his knees, looking down at you. 

His eyes roamed over your body, committing everything to memory as you laid in front of him in your bra and panties. 

“You’re so beautiful, princess. Fuck,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. “Can I taste you? Please? Been dying to know what you taste like,” he begged, looking at you. 

“Fucking hell, yes. Please,” you replied, watching him pull your panties down. He left soft and sweet kisses on your inner thighs, slowly pushing your legs apart. He looked up at you as he licked a small stripe up your folds, moaning to himself as he tasted you. 

Fuck. You tasted better than he had imagined. So sweet, so… perfect. 

He licked up your folds again, his hands moving under your thighs as he pulled you closer to him, thighs now resting on his shoulders. You moaned softly, fingers tangling into his hair as you watched him. He left soft kisses on your clit, looking up at you as he did so. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you mumbled, tugging on his curls gently. “You’re good with your mouth, ah,” you added. He groaned at your words, tongue flicking over your clit gently before he sucked on it. His right hand moved closer to your core, his pointer finger and middle fingers teasing your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You gasped at the feeling, back arching up slightly as he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you while simultaneously sucking on your clit. “Jesus, Eds,” you whined, pulling on his hair tighter. He groaned against you, speeding up his movements with his fingers. 

“God,” he sighed, looking up at you. “God, you’re so… hot. You’re just so fucking hot. So fucking beautiful, you sound so pretty when you’re saying my name like that. You look so pretty like that. You’re just so… perfect.” Eddie said, leaving more kisses on your inner thighs before he bit down gently, leaving a small mark on your inner thigh. 

You moaned, grinding against his fingers. “Fuck, you gonna mark me up as yours?” You asked softly, watching him leave more bite marks across your thighs. He moaned against your thigh, his hips thrusting against the bed gently at the thought. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, nodding up at you. “Gonna make you all mine.” He bit down on the plush skin of your thigh again, his fingers curling inside of you as he pumped them. He kissed back up your body, face now inches from yours as he slowed the movements of his fingers. He pumped them slowly, curling them with each pump as he kissed your lips gently.

You kissed him back, moaning as you tasted yourself on his lips. Your fingernails ran down his back gently, scratching at the fabric of his shirt. “Eddie–ah,” you whined, moving your hips up again, grinding against his fingers as he curled them perfectly, hitting your sweet spot. “Gonna, ah, shit, gonna cum,” you moaned, kissing his lips a bit rougher than before. 

“Fuck, princess, cum for me,” Eddie groaned against your lips, speeding up his movements again. You whined his name, head falling back on his pillows as you clenched around his fingers, releasing your juices onto them with a loud moan. He pumped his fingers a bit more, helping you ride out your high as you fell back on his bed. You caught your breath, looking up at him with a sigh. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your juices and moaned, looking at you. “Good god, baby, you taste amazing.” 

You blushed and looked up at him, “yeah?” You asked, smiling slightly. You sat up carefully and kissed his lips. “I bet you taste even better,” you mumbled, reaching for his shirt. You pulled it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. You pushed him back onto his bed and straddled his lap, kissing his lips desperately. Eddie kissed you with the same desperation as his hands moved behind your back, undoing your bra gently. You slid your bra down your body, throwing it to the ground. 

You left soft and sweet kisses down his neck, chest and stomach. When you reached his jeans you left soft kisses on his erection through the denim, looking up at him as you did. You left a flirty wink before you ran your nails along his lower stomach, running over the soft hair that sat directly above his waistband.

Eddie’s breath hitched as he watched you, groaning at the sight in front of him. He had dreamed of this moment more times than he could count but never in a million years did he think it would actually happen. Like, really? Were you real right now? Or was he passed out at the bar in the Hideout?

“Can I take these off?” You asked, looking up at him as you played with the hem of his jeans. He nodded, pushing your hair out of your face gently before running his fingers through it.

“Please, princess,” he said, looking down at you. You undid his jeans quickly, pulling them down. He moved his hips up, making it easier for you to free him from his denim pants. You tossed them behind you and they landed on the floor with a thud. Your nails ran up his thighs and over the fabric of his boxers before you slid your fingers under the waistband, tugging them down gently. 

As you tugged his boxers down, his rock hard erection sprung free, hitting his stomach. You looked up at him, sinking down between his thighs.

“Well, you’re so pretty,” you mumbled, hand wrapping around the base of his cock gently. “So pretty and so big,” you commented, pumping him in your hand slowly. “Not sure if I can take all of this in my mouth but, I really want to try,” you mumbled, looking up at him as you kissed the tip of his cock. “That okay?” You asked, your tongue flicking over the slit on his tip.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie moaned, watching you. “More than okay, fuck. Please, do anything you want to me, I’m yours.” You smiled, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock gently. You sucked on it slowly, moaning around him. Eddie whined, his hand running through your hair again as he gathered it gently at the back of your head. 

You moved your head down slowly, taking more of him in your mouth. He watched you, pulling your hair gently as you moved to take more and more of him in your mouth. You made it down about three quarters of the way before you gagged slightly, pulling back from him. You pumped him in your hand and looked up at him. “You’re so big, I’m not sure I can do it,” you said softly, moving back to suck on the tip of his cock gently.

“Fuck, princess, that’s okay,” he groaned, tugging on your locks again. You bobbed your head slightly, taking more of him in your mouth. 

Eddie couldn’t believe what he was seeing; this was definitely everything he imagined and more. Sure, he’d pictured you sucking his cock, but he never thought it would be too big for you to take fully in your mouth. God, you were somehow boosting his ego without even trying. Your sweet eyes looked up at him as you struggled to take him all in his mouth. Every so often you’d gag around him and pull back before going back to what you were doing. 

He moaned every time, watching you proceed to go deeper and deeper for him. He pulled your hair tighter and closed his eyes, groaning as you got him all in your mouth. You moaned around him, looking up at him. He bucked his hips up, causing you to gag loudly but stay where you were, trying to fight through the pain and uncomfort.

“Fuck, baby girl, keep doing that and I’m gonna cum.” Eddie groaned as you went back to bobbing your head slightly. He moaned your name as you took all of him in your mouth again, and he thrusted his hips up against your mouth. He tugged your hair so tightly as he panted, releasing ropes of cum into your mouth. You groaned around him, swallowing it all before you pulled away, leaving a soft kiss on the tip of his cock again. “Holy shit,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. “That was better than I had ever imagined.”

“You’ve… imagined that?” You asked, tilting your head slightly as you sat back on your knees on his bed. Eddie sat up, his face turning a bright red color yet again. Damn, he was really out here exposing himself to you, wasn’t he?

“I, uh,” he stuttered, looking around the room. “…no?” He said, sounding more like a question than a statement. “No, because that would be weird and not right.” He mumbled, a giggle escaped your lips as you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“You sure?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked at him. “Because, I think you’re lying.” You mumbled, fingers trailing small circles on his chest. 

“And if I am?” He asked softly, hands moving to hold your hips. 

“I think that’s really hot…” you replied, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. He groaned against your lips and kissed you back, pulling you closer to him. He laid you back on the bed softly and hovered over you, looking down at you. 

“You are just so incredibly beautiful,” he mumbled, leaving soft kisses on your neck. “I still cannot believe this is happening,” he added, his right hand roaming over your body. He moved up to your chest, squeezing your left breast gently as he continued to kiss down your neck and upper chest. He kissed over right breast, tongue flicking over your hardened nipple. You moaned softly, hands tangling into his hair gently. 

“You’re so sweet,” you purred, tugging on Eddie’s locks. He moaned at the feeling and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking on it softly. You gasped at the feeling, head falling back on the pillows. “Fucking shit, Eddie, I think I’m going to need you to fuck me.” You mumbled, Eddie’s head shot up, looking down at you.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up gently. “You want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, moving towards his bedside table for a condom.

“Want you to fuck me,” you mumbled, running your fingers over his bicep gently as he fished for a condom. “Need you to fuck me,” you added, nails scratching up and down his muscular biceps more.

“Fuck,” he groaned, opening the condom. He stood up, pumping his cock a few times before he slid the condom on slowly. He stood at the edge of his bed and grabbed your thighs gently, pulling you towards him. You squealed softly, looking up at him as he lifted your thighs, moving closer towards you. He teased your folds with the tip of his cock before he pushed in slowly, moaning as he felt you around him. 

You gasped at the feeling, looking up at him. “Eddie,” you whined softly, eyes closing slightly.

“Fuck, princess,” he groaned, filling you up completely. He stayed still for a second before he started to thrust in and out of you slowly. He pulled you closer and your legs wrapped around his body, holding him against you. “Shit,” he mumbled, hands moving down to your breasts. He squeezed your breasts, massaging them as he continued to thrust in and out of you. “So pretty like this, fuck. You look so pretty taking my cock,” he groaned out, leaning down to kiss your lips.

You groaned and kissed him back, hands wrapping around his wrists as he continued to thrust. He picked up the pace a bit, thrusting faster and deeper as he squeezed your breasts harder. 

“Ah, fuck, Eddie, shit,” you moaned, moving your hips against him as he thrusted. “Shit, fuck, you’re so big. You fill me up, god, fuck, made just for me, my perfect fanboy,” you whined, lips moving against his with desperate kisses. He moaned louder, thrusting deeper.

“Fuck, yeah. I’m your fanboy,” he groaned, biting your bottom lip gently before he tugged on it. “You’re my popstar, favorite one ever. Taking my cock so good and sounding so pretty, fuck, your moans sound prettier than your music.”

Eddie released your breasts from his hands and moved his left hand down to where your bodies were connected, rubbing slow and tight circles on your clit. A loud moan escaped your lips as your back arched off the bed, looking up at him. “Eddie, shit,” you moaned, nails scratching down his biceps again. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah?” He asked, thrusting faster. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my cock? Gonna cum on your favorite fanboy’s cock?”

You moaned, nodding your head repeatedly. “Yeah, fuck, gonna cum on my favorite fanboy’s cock,” you said blissed out as you felt your high come closer. Eddie made one more deep thrust and felt you clench around him. Your head fell back on the bed as you released around his cock, whining at the feeling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered.

“God, fuck, you’re so pretty baby,” Eddie groaned, “I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“Yeah? Fuck, cum for me pretty boy,” you sighed, feeling completely blissed out. “My perfect little fanboy.” Your legs tightened around his waist, holding him close to you and inside of you. Eddie moaned at your words, his cock twitching inside of you as he released into the condom. He made a couple more thrusts before he groaned. Your legs fell back down and Eddie pulled out of you, helping you steady yourself so you didn’t fall off the bed.

He placed his hands out for you to grab and helped you sit up on the bed gently. You smiled slightly and sat on the edge of his bed, looking at him. “You’re so perfect,” he sighed, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on the lips. He reached for your panties and his Metallica shirt, handing them to you before he slid the condom off, tying it up before throwing it in the trash. You accepted the shirt and panties, sliding them both on before falling back on his bed. He chuckled slightly, looking at you. “You okay, princess?” He asked, you looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah, you just took a lot out of me, fuck, you’re amazing,” you said, smiling at him. “And, you’re coming to bed with me… right?” You asked, he shuffled towards you and smiled.

“As if that’s even a question.” He grabbed his boxers from the floor and slid them on before laying down in the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist gently.

You moved towards him, a smile on your face as you rested your head on his chest. He left a soft kiss on the top of your head and hummed, closing his eyes.

You giggled softly and he opened his eyes, looking down at you. “What?” He asked, pushing your hair out of your face gently with his finger tips. 

“A poster on the ceiling? Really?” You giggled more, pointing to the poster of you on the ceiling. He blushed softly, groaning as he covered his face with his hand. 

“Please don’t start with me,” he mumbled. 

“My perfect little fan boy, huh?” You teased and he turned bright red. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” He sighed, leaving another soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Oh, I will.” You said, snuggling into his side more as you closed your eyes again. 

Eddie held you close to his body and smiled a little. Tonight was different for him, he didn’t need to listen to your music to help him sleep. Instead, he was able to hold you in bed, listening to your breathing and soft snores.

Yeah, this was way better. 

Eddie woke up the next morning to some knocks on the front door of the trailer. He grunted, rolling out of bed gently. He found a dirty shirt from the floor and slid it on over his body. He stretched, groaning as the knocking continued. He looked at your sleeping form and smiled, remembering everything that happened the night before. He leaned down, leaving a soft kiss on your head before he shifted towards the front door of the trailer.

He glanced around and shrugged when he didn’t see his uncle, huh, must be working a double. 

Eddie opened the front door, Gareth and Jeff standing on the other side. “What?” Eddie groaned, rubbing his face as he leaned against the door.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Gareth teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’re just checking in on you,” Jeff added, shooting Gareth a glare.

“I’m fine, why?” Eddie yawned, looking at his friends with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, how were we supposed to know? You left us at the Hideout and just disappeared.” Gareth shot back with a snark tone.

“Damn, chill,” Jeff said, looking at Gareth. “It was his birthday, he probably got wasted and came home to sleep it off.”

Eddie went to open his mouth and reply but he was cut off by you. You called his name and walked towards him in your panties and his Metallica shirt from the night before.

“Eddie,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You left me alone in bed,” you added, leaving a soft kiss on his neck.

“Sorry, princess,” Eddie said with a small smirk, arm wrapping around your shoulder gently. 

“It’s okay,” you shrugged, looking up at his friends. You remembered Gareth but didn’t know his other friend. “Oh!” You smiled, nodding at his friends. “Gareth, right? And, I’m so sorry, but I don't believe we have met yet,” you added, looking at Jeff.

“Gareth, yeah,” Gareth replied, staring at you.

“Jeff,” Jeff said, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You smiled and shook it gently.

“Nice to meet you, Jeff. Good to see you again, Gareth.” You smiled at the boys before turning your attention back to Eddie. “Come back to bed when you can, yeah?” You asked, placing a soft kiss on his lips before you turned back towards his room. 

Gareth and Jeff both stared at you as you walked away, retreating back to Eddie’s room with a slight shake of your hips. 

“There’s no fucking way.” Gareth said, looking back at Eddie. “Seriously?! You took her home?!” He questioned, the sound of jealousy evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, I did; so what?” Eddie smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door. 

“Fuck,” Jeff muttered, still looking in the direction you went.

“Oh,” Eddie mumbled, remembering something. “Thanks for those VIP meet and greet tickets, Jeffy boy.” Eddie smirked. “Now, I must be going, have a good day.” 

Gareth and Jeff just shared a look as Eddie closed the door in their faces, making his way back to his room to be with you again.

eddie tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @earthlyangelbby ; @jasminelafleur

[colorlessjay]

Oh my Jack, I’m obsessed with your BTTF AU.

I know it might not quite fit into your AU but I’ve been giggling to myself about the potential hilarious misunderstandings. My fav being s6 Dean attempts to put together all the little clues Cas has dropped about his husband but like comically wrong (plugged-all-the-numbers-into-the-right-formula-and-somehow-got-the-wrong-answer wrong)

Dean in the guest bedroom with sticky notes and red string: ok so he wears flannels and he has an Impala that looks suspiciously like baby and cas mentioned he had hair longer than mine and that he was a hunter and Sam and I knew him and they were friends for a while before anything romantic happened, and I’m clearly not hanging out with cas as much …

Dean (having a panic attack): son of a bitch I know who cas is married to!

Dean (mopey and despondent and slightly horrified the next day and definitely not with puffy eyes): Cas, I, I have to know, your husband, it’s not *gulp*

Cas (visibly worried he’s given too much away and s6 dean is still so repressed that the bi realization is throwing him into despair)

Dean whispering (trying not to vomit): Sam?

Cas (too stunned to hold back his reaction): *hysterical laughter* oh, no, dean! I’m not married to sam.

Dean (nearly passing out from relief): thank god!

Cas (under his breath): this is why my dean asked me to love him anyways when his past self asked an incredibly stupid question

Honestly I fucking love that so much, I think I have a way to shoe horn that into the AU

kinda like this:

It's been two days

It's been two days stuck in the future, and Dean feels frustration bubbling up in him as his brain tries to puzzle piece everything together

It doesn't help that Cas won't tell him shit

Best friend my ass!

Okay, maybe he's being a bit of an asshole saying that. Cas- This Cas has been nothing but a great host. He always has food in the fridge, he has extra clothes he lets Dean borrow, he doesn't get all up in Dean's personal space like his Castiel does

But at the same time, Cas keeps giving him these looks, like he knows something Dean doesn't

which sure, yeah, he knows a whole hell of a lotta things. It's the future. But Cas us smug about it. At least it feels like he's smug about it. It doesn't help that Cas is out of his holy tax accountant get up and dresses like a regular John. Least his taste in band shirts has improved thanks to his husband

Husband

yeah, that still causes a record scratch in Dean's brain every time he thinks about it

And he's got no problems with it! Love is love and all that. Who Cas wants to take home and put a ring on is his own business. It's not like Cas is a guy, he's an angel. A beam of holy light or whatever. So technically, he's not gay (Not that Dean would have a problem with that!). But it does make his husband some kind of monsterfucker

which is also totally fine. Cas is a catch. Good for both of them

So why doesn't Cas say who his husband is?

Is he scared Dean would judge him? Well fuck him for that! Dean's not a homophobe! And Cas is his best friend! He'd be supportive of him and his monsterfucker husband! Rainbow streamers with Cthulhu and all!

Unless Cas is more worried about Dean's reaction to who he's married to...

which is dumb. From what little Cas told him about Mr. Mystery (Cas refuses to tell him his last name), he wears a shit ton of plaid flannels, he cooks a lot with Cas, likes to read (a guess he got from the 'shared library' Cas showed him), is pretty handy around the house, has long stupid hair and loves his dog Miracle...

Holy shit

Dean was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He practically kicks down the guest room door and runs around the house looking for that damn Angel/half angel/not angel

He finds Cas in the backyard with Miracle, playing fetch on the wide stretch of land he owns

Cas looks all too comfortable in his loose, light washed jeans and Metallica shirt, his hair wind swept, probably from running around with Miracle while Dean took a nap.

Cas spots Dean approaching and waves at him with a smile, only to drop both as he sees Dean's determined march

Dean can't blame him. He has no idea what he looks like right not but he knows what he feels

like he's gonna explode

"Dean-" Cas starts but never gets to finish as Dean grabs the future version of his best friend by his shoulders and holds him still, grounding himself as he speaks

"Did you marry Sam?"

The question hung in the nice summer air for around two, three beats. Miracle even pausing where she sat with a stick in her mouth, her little head tilted to the side

Cas' usual stoic face breaks into surprise and Dean holds his breath

Only for Cas, Angel of the Lord, to burst out into an explosive laughter that rocks Dean's entire being

Suddenly Dean has no idea how to react, because Cas is... he's got the biggest, gummiest, most hysterical laugh he's ever seen. It completely transforms his face that Dean is questioning if he's still taking nap, and this was all just some weird dream where he thinks Cas is almost...

cute

Get it together, Winchester!

By the time Dean shakes away his shock, Cas is already on the ground, on his back, clutching his sides as he laughs into the sky like Dean just told the joke of the century

"Hey!" Dean snaps, his face feeling warm for reasons he doesn't have time to think about. "Answer the damn question!"

"No! Hahaha!" Cas says in between laughs, Miracle coming to his side to paw and bark at her owner

"Why the fuck not???"

"No I mean-" Cas takes a deep breath and wheezes, coughing into his fist as he tries to get himself together

Dean grumbles impatiently, popping a squat just to poke at Cas' arm to get him to answer

Eventually Cas' laughter does die down and Dean finds himself staring at just the biggest, smuggest grin he's ever seen on Cas

"I mean no, I did not marry Sam. And I believe he his reaction to you saying that would be much funnier than you asking me" Cas, for the love of God, giggles.

And it shouldn't be cute. Cas is an old man and he's giggling and Dean shouldn't feel... whatever the fuck it is he's feeling right now that's not frustration

But oddly enough he's not frustrated at all

he's relived

Is it because Sam's not gay or because Cas didn't go barking up his brother?

Why does that matter? It shouldn't. Stop thinking about it

"Dean" Cas starts, his laughing having died off and his smile softer as he stares up at Dean "Why do you ask?"

There's... there's a tone to Cas' question that Dean doesn't like. So, he does the one thing he's good at

He pushes himself up and shakes back into himself

"Well you weren't telling me jack, so I thought I'd throw in wild guesses and hope I predict something" A cool lie slip out but even he can tell Cas doesn't buy it

Damn it. Those eyes always seemed to see through him

Cas doesn't call him on his bullshit, but he knows. Dean knows he knows and it bothers him further

"Yes well. Perhaps if you keep guessing, the truth will come out eventually"

"yeah... eventually"

------------

Anyways. Drabble done. Doot doot

[waynes-multiverse]

*gasps in excitement* FINALLY 😍😍😍

I also remember our fireplace conversation vividly 🔥 and I'm so glad it inspired such an amazing fic! You've outdone yourself with this one, Alex!! Such a sweet, incredibly romantic, and yet angsty story 🤍

Such a strong and hot start, wow! 🫠🔥

Full honesty, as a writer, starting chapters with smut always freaks me tf out. Like, where do you put the damn "keep reading" line without flashing some innocent people at work 😂

Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

Ooof, I know the exact feeling you're describing here. Kinda like when you're taking a hot bath but the room is cold and so everything not covered by water is freezing... 😅

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire.

Oh, here we go! Executed to perfection 😏

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

First of all, I was just reading this whole, intensely scorching scene with a thundering heart and squeezing my damn thighs hard 😂

Secondly, I loooove this trope! It's sorta romantic?! Idk 😅🤷‍♀️ Kinda gives "waiting for the right one and not in the mood for anyone else" vibes. I did that kinda with Russell recently lol

But I love the extra intensity and specialness it gives, y'know? ❤️‍🔥

Once again, he hears you. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

Loved the callback of him hearing her again, although his instincts had taken over. It shows how much he cares about her and respects her 💕

And I truly wonder what Sam will say when Dean comes back with a mate lol

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

Oooh boy, you're about to find out, girl 😂

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses.

Lol I was gonna say, "How long do you guys plan on being here? This might take a while" 😂 But I'm so in love with their little afterglow bonding session ❤️❤️❤️ I honestly could read about their convos forever. They're so cute 🥹

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.” You smile. “You’re happy for him though.” “Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.” His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.

We've already talked about this when he mentioned Dean jr. the first time, but my headcanon is, too, that Dean would be super happy, incredibly sad and lonely, and definitely a little envious and sour lol 😂😂

You really nailed him here! I could hear every word out of his mouth, too!! 😂🫶

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn.

Can totally seeing him doing all of that and arguing with her throughout lol Our hero 🥹💚

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.”

Oooh, I completely forgot she doesn't yet!! Aww, she loved him before she knew he had a cool car. This is like finding out he was a millionaire and kept it a secret to find true love and weed out the gold diggers 🤣

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.”

This had me DEAD 🤣🤣🤣

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

A year???? Jesus fuck, this is even sadder now!!! Sam was really like, "Ciao, jerk." lol

Damn, this man is old school. 

Oh she's about to find out how much 😂😂💚

That was such a perfect ending! They literally drove off into the sunset together *swoon* 😍🫠🫶 (And I could totally see Dean singing along to the lyrics at the end there)

I seriously enjoyed this series so much, friend!! 🤍🤍🤍 Totally gave me those vibes 🥹💕:

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can��share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[justiceiscalling]

i feel like something that’s not talked about enough in YJ (show) is the amazing plot line of roy (will) being a fucking clone. like oh my god to 13 year old me that was such a fucking plot twist—guarantee if i watched it now it would still be a plot twist to me.

like, wills a clone, he’s handling it terribly (like one would) but he knows he has to find the real roy, he won’t ever stop looking until he finds the real roy. and the heartbreaking part? he’s the only one.

ollie and dinah and dick and basically everyone could not care less about real roy. dick literally said ‘we did the math, we never even met real roy’ and just decided roy wasn’t worth looking for. and, kind of understandably (but also not), ollie gave up. but you know what’s really the worst part? the real icing on the cake? will finds him.

he finds roy.

will has to tell roy that his family, his team, gave up on him. nightwing and artemis and kid flash and them—they’re excused. because why would people who don’t know him look for him? but ollie? dinah? he met them. roy built relationships and partnerships with them and the only person who looked for him was a fucking clone. and not because the clone loved him or missed him, because will had felt guilty for stealing roy’s life.

i’m so sad how that story line kinda fell flat. we could’ve gotten so much more. i wanted to see roy adapting to this, i wanted to see more of will searching for roy. im not even going to lie, i wanted one of them to struggle with addiction. i think roy and wills characters are just so fucking interesting.

imagine a fifth season where real roy meets red hood jason. imagine how well they’d fucking bond. because, i’m not 100% sure but didn’t roy not age? so he’s around jason’s age. and, anyway, you just know those two have so much in common. they both also missed out on so much with being dead and kidnapped. plus, it takes away from the thing most people hate about the jason and roy friendship. in YJ, roy was never friends with dick. dick was friends with will, made it abundantly clear when he stopped looking for roy.

and since YJ’s pretty open to LGBTQ aspects… well i think you know what im implying. i’d be happy either way. jason and roy make good best friends—i really do think they could also make good more than best friends.

so, in conclusion, the roy-will clone storyline was the best fucking thing i’ve ever seen, even if i do wish they expanded on it more. if there’s ever a season five, YJ creators i am begging you make that happen, it’s literally the most incredible opportunity and would be such an amazing friendship (or more than friendship) to develop to show ‘hey real roy’s life isn’t all that shitty!’. of course, as a side plot to the whole wally’s-been-stuck-in-the-speed-force-and-isn’t-actually-dead storyline.

[dulc3vida]

if there was one thing you loved to do with pope, it was sucking his dick.

it gave you purpose. you never felt more important than when you were on your knees, worshipping his cock. pope was always very vocal, telling you how to suck and stroke, when to spit, and praising you endlessly.

"ohhh fuck." pope gripped your hair, the braided pigtails serving as handlebars as he guided you up and down. right now, the two of you were occupying john b's room at the chateau. hanging out with sarah was always a good cover for sneaking around with pope. your parents were happy to leave you unsupervised with either one of the cameron siblings so you took advantage of sarah's friendship. you thanked god for sarah. it made moments like this possible.

pope's grip on your hair became tighter as he began using your mouth like a fleshlight. the obscene wet sounds of you moaning and gagging on his dick filled the room along with the chorus of his own moans. your face was wet with your saliva and it was starting to drip onto john b's sheets. "i'm- i'm..." pope sputtered as he forced your head down, holding it in place as he shot his cum all down your throat.

it sat warm in your belly and you almost didn't want to come back up for air. you did though and while pope layed back on the bed, chest heaving with each breath he took, you held his cock and finished the ritual by cleaning him up.

"pope! we kinda gotta problem." john b's voice accompanied a knock at the door.

"so deal with it." pope grumbled and tossed a pillow at the door.

"rafe's here." it was sarah this time. just the sound of his name and you felt the tug of the diamond encrusted leash and chain tightening around your neck and yanking you far away from pope. you got up while pope put himself away and you checked out the window. sure enough, rafe was stepping out of his truck and approaching the house.

you opened the door to the room and faced sarah, who looked at you amusedly. you hadn't even gotten to clean yourself up and the evidence of your infidelity was all over your face. "john b's stalling." she grabbed your hand and led you to the bathroom. there, she pulled out makeup wipes, lip balm and perfume.

"you don't care that i'm cheating on your brother?"

"he's cheating on you and doesn't feel bad about it. i just wish you were getting more from him."

sarah stuck a piece of gum between your lips and insisted on kissing you to make sure rafe wouldn't taste or smell anything.

"just to be safe, babe." she cupped your face with her hands and kissed you, basically forcing your lips open so she could taste you completely. sarah always took any opportunity she could to experiment with you. she was like her brother in that way, always taking. "mm..." she moaned a little. "perfect. come on."

"jesus sarah, what did i tell you about bringing her around here? you can slum it down here all you want but i don't want her around your little pogue friends." rafe hadn't been expecting to see you here. he was only instructed to come pick sarah up from john b's place by his dad. as far as he was concerned, you were doing some bible study bullshit as he called it.

the rest of the pogues gathered on the lawn to watch the scene, pope sitting and watching you intently. rafe didn't like this. rafe never liked anyone, let alone pope, thinking he could have what was his. rafe knows that pope was probably using whatever nerd charm he had to get in close with you, the virginal weirdo he called a girlfriend.

"c'mere." rafe wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in deep for a kiss, pressing you against the front of his truck.

rafe always liked putting on a show. he moved his hands up your shirt, squeezing your tits before pulling away and opening your car door for you. pope watched the exchange, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. it was simple things, like watching rafe kiss you after you were just choking on his dick, that made it all worth it.

you got in the truck with sarah, only the two of you knowing everything you got up to on your little adventure to the cut.

@starfxkrinc been thinking about them and sarah alot lately (also rafesarah)

[sharklovingaquarist]

Nothing really lets you know the reality of a mans mindset like hearing them talk when they think only other men are listening. I'm tired of seeing the inside world of men. I grew up being the "cool girl," and it's just impossible. In order to respect oneself, you have to migrate to an extreme.

I saw a video that was like "that one guy who respects women too much" and it was a bunch of guys and one goes "my girl just got her period shes not pregnant" all excited n shit. The way that men talk about sex, conception, and pregnancy legit makes me get a stress rash. Every single aspect both seperates them, whilst prioritizing their feelings. Lets unpack this

She is not "your girl" she is a partner. This idea that "she's not pregnant" not "we didn't concieve" really proves to me how men both see women as their tools whilst seeing their feelings as more important in a situation where a fetus is concieved. Kinda like saying, "Thank God I didn't pop my tire." it both credits men with "getting women pregnant" while acting like they themselves are just bystanders. All the while, they worry about the impact on them rather than the woman who would go through that process and how they would serve her wellbeing. She is your partner. When you have sex with her, you are agreeing to a contract of possible servitude. ESPECIALLY if you decide that putting a piece of plastic on your pathetic dick is too much work. Another sign that they can take an action, but the only one they see as defined by it is you. Be it taking your "virginity" or stretching a vagina. You are not a person they bond with and build a team with, just a means to an end.

While you can be excited that you didn't concieve a child, both only concerning her and only caring about the effect on you really does highlight how women are just a secondary they collect and show off.

And as for the "respects women too much" part, it was some guy saying it wasn't something to be proud of... which yeah it's not. Men make ironic videos and show basic respect as something crazy. "Haha, what a funny guy he views his partner as a separate, yet unified being of whom he works with, not utilizes what a guy!" Tbh, I didn't watch much after that. I can't stand the way men create banter around it. They can never be normal. Either you're "their woman" or you're "goddess creator of all life", never just a human like them whose differences fit to theirs like a puzzle piece.

Not to mention the idea of your male partner talking about you like that behind your back. I can't describe it very well, but the manner and tone in which they say it to their male friends is just revolting. Talking about my body like an object when you were the one not taking measures to avoid a team effort makes me feel sick. You're a fucking trophy and they're the actual humans unreliable on another being. They don't talk about it in a sense of "period = proof that WE didn't cause something" and further more don't see it as "your body because youre the stronger of us two when it comes to roles in reproduction". It's all paired with such an insulting connotation.

Idk, it's the simple ways they word it that just infuriates me. Once you start to unpack it, you can't go back. Men view you as a box they fill or keep empty. You are the one defined by them. Owned by them. They don't with you, they do to you. Your definition revolves them, much like a dog given an occupation by its owner. You are xyz and only add to their story. You function to add to their story while they revolve themselves

Sorry, this was a bit of a rant, but good lord hearing men even open their mouths just makes me cringe. They'll do anything but see you as a human on their level. Im running off a little sleep, so please excuse anything redundant. College is beating my assssss

[tiredandoptimistic]

Just watched season thirteen for the first time in a while, and the thing that's sticking out to me is how Church's final transmission acts as such a perfect foil to his disappearance at the end of season ten. Previously he'd left on his mission without saying goodbye (because if you don't say goodbye you're not really gone), and while that's kinda symbolically beautiful when you think about Tex and Allison, it was also a deeply fucked thing to do to his friends. All throughout season eleven the Blues were tearing themselves apart in his absence. Church and Tucker lost their best friend and Wash was suddenly expected to take his place as leader; it was terrible for everyone. When they found him in season twelve he was all up on his high horse about a greater purpose when that wasn't even the fucking problem! They were all willing to let Church go do his thing, but because he didn't tell them about it or let them into the discussion, he basically abandoned them with no idea of what happened to him. He wasn't really gone because they were all haunted by the place he should be.

In season thirteen though, Church learns from his mistakes. He's backed into a corner where he genuinely isn't able to include his friends in the discussion, but he still finds a way to leave them a message. It's not a goodbye, but it's something to give them a little closure, something that will let them finally move on without him.

Allison always hated goodbyes, and because she never gave her family that closure, the Director refused to accept that she could really be gone. He kept finding ways to undo that ending for her (because it had never felt like an ending to him), and even when Epsilon finally did let her go and accept that goodbye or no she is gone, he still passed that burden on to his friends. Suddenly he was the one gone without a trace, and even if the Blues weren't desperate enough to try and bring him back, they were still left with the awful mystery of what happened to him. Not anymore though. After all that time, he was able to be a little honest and admit to himself and his friends that sometimes people are gonna go away for good, and it's better to accept that then to fight yourself to death trying to prevent it.

It's really late but I love this show so fucking much and it just gets better the more I watch it.

[kick-a-long]

I find thinking about the future a good way to visualize making it through the current shit storm. We all will take seriously hard hits, this period will be a stain on America and destroy many lives, but if you make it though 4 years it’s very possible that things will start to heal.

I think that it’s very likely that four years of being president will drain an elderly trump and he might not try for another Jan 6th. Without trump, there’s no one who can step up. Elon wasn’t born in America THANK GOD so the GOP will be a cult of personality with no personality to gather around.

The dems (if they stop being fucking idiots) will probably put up a centrist white dude (prob a vet from the Midwest since that’s where they’re losing ground.) considering that leftists don’t show up to vote and liberals are going to spend four years looking at the aftermath of allying with rat fuckers, the world might look more like the political climate we had in the 90s. Trans rights, voting rights, and gender rights will be the focus while civil rights and religious freedom will remain fucked by contrast (at least to the extent that trump will be able to fuck it.) the Court always drifts to the left but realistically it will take 8+ years and probably only flip to three lib v 5 or 4 cons with 1 or 2 swing votes. This could be ok if centrists from both sides work together, tell the radicals from both sides to fuck off, and pass some much needed upkeep legislation to stop America from falling apart.

Idk how accurate this will be but it’s a possibility and it’s better to plan for the kinda good near future than start putting together your end of days bug out bags. Realistically there is a good chance that this horrifying chapter of American history has an end date. 4-8 years is a long time, a long way away, but let’s treat it as if we will get there.

Vote in local elections, avoid letting your personally and politics be dictated by social media platforms infested with bots and manipulation, read the actual facts of what a plan is instead of the hundreds of think pieces written about how it’s the best or worst or goes too far or falls too short.

Get real and get smart. The end times fantasizing is what got us trump. It’s time to be ok with liberal incremental progress again. Drop the thought crimes and start talking about what you actually believe regardless of all the people/bots/political cultists it pisses off online. They don’t have to buy your groceries or pay your bills. Thinking these are end times is a good way to abdicate responsibility. We have 40+ years of rebuilding to do.

[theoneandonlyjamiestark]

INTRODUCTION

Before We get started. Yes. I'm a Stark. Adopted, of course. And even though I'm not biologically related to the Starks, many people have told me I take after their ego and sassiness.

Jamie Eliana Stark She/her Trans MTF Bisexual Adopted Daughter of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts 19 years old. [Mod is a minor so NSFW DNI] Marvel RP account

I may not be a true Stark, but I surely do act like one. I get told on countless occasions that I'm "Just like your father" whenever I'm being anywhere near sassy or rude to anyone. Sarcasm is not for the faint of heart I guess. I also am not as good at building techy stuff as many others in my family, but I can hack mainframes like its nobodies business. You could say its a gift of mine. I'm also good at codes. Me and Dad (Tony) sometimes work together on projects that he needs done quickly. Its kinda fun, having a dad who can match your sarcastic energy. Being a Stark also comes with a shit ton of publicity and responsibility. Many reporters, paparazzi and other people who pry into your personal life like they need to know what direction you walked at Eleven AM on December Twenty First 2021. Its dumb if you ask me, but publicity, like fashion shows, celebrity events or galas that we're invited to? Love those. I love the attention when its not weirdly invasive. Theres one word to describe our household, and that is Chaos. With Peter running around on the walls and everyone else just being the people they are, it can get pretty busy and chaotic. Especially when some people are trying to build stuff and they blow up. The rule here, basically is just, "Don't blow anything up". And unless Mom/Pepper is home, most things fly as long as, a) no one (is, might, already) died/die/dead, b) nothing explodes, c) it wont get you arrested. At least for the older lot its like that. Rules in the lab are the ones you definetly want to follow,. The rules in the lab are the strictest. You don't want any of that tech going haywire. Trust me. I've done it only once and its probably the worst thing I've done. But anyways. Wouldn't have it any other way. Listen here okay? I may not be the absolute smartest Stark when it comes to building tech or doing stuff like my Dad does, but I'm really battle smart. I have fight training from THE Natasha Romanoff herself. I'm an incredible hand to hand fighter, and so if you cross me I wont hesitate to show you who you're dealing with without mortally wounding you. I was told the government and police will get involved if I do that.... so its probably better I don't and stay out of the authorities grasp.

You hear this? FUCK stereotypes or like norms and stuff. I will dress, style my hair, or speak however I want. Of course I wont be rascist, homophobic, transphobic (why would I hate myself?), or anything like that to ANYONE. Its shocking how anyone is like that to anyone. Anyways. If you need me, I'm always here, just throw a message in my ask box!

Dad: Tony Stark @under0-0s Mom: Pepper Potts @pepper-potts-in-charge Siblings: @serenastark-official @playgirlgenius Friends: Feel free to send RP starters or rp ideas! Rps are always welcoem! Face Claim: Lucy Hale (Pretty little Liars) Oc Owned by: @thescarleteevee //This account is not run by a system alter btw! dividers by : @vg-k

[scarabsinthestardust]

Right on Time // Ch. 2

MASTERLIST

word count: 2000+

WARNINGS: language, mentions of sex, blowjobs, scars, previous injuries from reckless juvenile behavior, mentions of parental discipline, mentions of Josh's exploding eardrum, anxiety, strained familial relationships, mentions of gambling addiction, extremely creepy and toxic behavior from an ex

“Ya know, I really wasn’t planning on getting you into bed after the second date.”

Josh grinned. “Yeah, well, it’s not my fault you can’t resist my wily charm.”

I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him to me, planting a kiss on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his face, and sighed. As I ran my hand up his arm, I felt a spot on the back of his left arm where the flesh was raised and uneven, about a two-inch scar. “What’s this from?”

His face fell. “Oh. It’s stupid. I fell, landed on a piece of metal or something.”

“Ouch.” I could tell there was more to it than that, but for whatever reason, he didn’t want to talk about it. So, I let it go and accepted his vague answer. His demeanor had shifted, though, and I tried to lighten his mood with a story of my own. “When I was 13, my friends dared me to hop the fence to a pasture and try to ride a bull. The bull didn’t think it was a good idea, though. He threw me into a fence. And I have a nice scar on my leg to show for it.”

“You’re lucky it didn’t kill you.”

“Hah, yeah. Mom still whipped my ass. And my knee’s fucked up now, too. Tracking issue, and I don’t really have a lot of cartilage left.”

“Jesus. Are you gonna need a knee replacement?”

“Probably at some point, but there’s no bone damage yet, and they don’t like to do knee replacements until you’re at least 60.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, but mostly it’s just uncomfortable. And I can feel it when everything grinds together.”

I chuckled at the disgusted look on Josh’s face. “That sounds awful.” He scooted closer to me and rested his head on my arm. “My eardrum exploded a few years ago at a show. Stood too close to the pyrotechnics. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and we had to cancel a bunch of shows. I hated that.”

“Do you have any lasting effects from it?”

“It rings sometimes, but s’ not so bad.” He yawned and I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was starting to drift off. It was pretty late, after all. He was trying to stay awake; he opened his eyes for a second and mumbled an apology.

I ran my free hand through his hair and kissed his head. “It’s all good. Get some rest.” He didn’t need any more encouragement than that, and he let himself fall into a peaceful sleep.

~

Josh was up before me, and after a very pleasant wake-up call, he wiped the corner of his mouth and crawled up until he was on top of me.

“Mm, good morning to you, too.”

He smiled into a kiss and I grabbed a hold of his hips, pressing him into me. “I was thinking,” he started, in between planting kisses wherever he could reach.

“While you were blowing me?”

“Hah, naturally.” He sat up and ran a hand up and down my chest. “You got plans today?”

“Nope. I’m all yours.”

“Good.” He looked almost smug at my words, in an impossibly cute way. “I thought maybe we could go up to Cheekwood today.”

“That’s the gardens, right?”

“Yeah. They have a museum, too, but we don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” He dropped his gaze down and his countenance fell a little, but I didn’t understand why. He was fighting something internally, and I figured it was something he wasn’t ready to bring to the surface. “I mean, we don’t have to go. It was just an idea.”

“I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” He looked back up and gave me a small, hopeful, half-smile.

“Why not? I’ve never been. It sounds kinda nice, and we can go get breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Well, lunch.”

“Lunch? What time is it?” I looked around for my phone. “It’s almost noon? You must have worn me the fuck out last night.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.” He grinned, and with that, he was back to normal, like whatever dark cloud was above him disappeared as quickly as it came on.

~

Cheekwood is a 55-acre estate, with a historic 1930s mansion that was turned into an art museum, and expanses of botanical gardens. There’s also a separate trail that leads through a collection of sculptures. I read somewhere that there’s hundreds of thousands of different types of flowers in bloom at any given time during the year. Josh seems especially drawn to the Japanese garden, which is meant to provide a ‘meditative journey’ for guests. I’m not sure if I’d go that far, but it’s peaceful, and I can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. At some point, he leaned over to get a better look at something, the sun hit him just right, and I don’t notice anything else other than how gorgeous he is, too.

We talked as we made our way through the different garden sections, and he stopped a few times to take pictures of areas he found especially captivating. He grabbed my hand as we walked; it feels so juvenile to say it but he was giving me butterflies.

“Can I ask you something?” he said as we passed a cluster of pink and yellow blooms.

“Shoot.”

“You said you don’t really talk to your brother. How come?”

“Ah. Lux is a jackass with a gambling problem. He only talks to his family when he needs money, and he doesn’t even pretend to be nice about it.” I shrugged. “He’s the oldest, and it’s like he never grew out of his ‘obnoxious frat boy’ phase.”

“Does it bother you?” I think it must be hard to imagine for someone who is so close with his own brothers.

I thought about my answer before I voiced it. “It’d be great if things were different, if he was easier to get along with. But at the end of the day, he’s still my brother. If he really needed me, I’d be there. Just because I’m not shelling out hundreds of dollars to cover his own stupidity doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

“That makes sense. Sorry for being nosy.”

“You don’t have to apologize for asking questions, and I don’t mind talking about it.”

I can’t really describe the look that flashed across his face. Relief, but also sadness? “I just… I’ve almost lost both of mine. Sammy was in a bad accident a few years ago, and before that, Jake got really sick. It’s just another reminder not to take them for granted, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” I squeezed his hand and he moved onto another, much lighter, topic. I found it charming that he could easily find so much to say on any particular subject.

We hadn’t checked the calendar of events, so we were pleasantly surprised to find out that Cheekwood was holding one of their frequent concerts that evening. We grabbed some drinks and found a spot to sit and watch the show. I found myself watching him more than I was watching the actual performance. I loved the way he was utterly captivated like a kid seeing Christmas lights for the first time. He did catch me staring once, and I probably looked pretty stupid as hard as I tried to play it cool.

“I have another question,” he said as we started the walk back to the car. “But it might be dumb.”

“Try me.”

“Are we… I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page.”

It got my nerves going when I realized what he was asking. I knew what I wanted, there was no doubt in my mind, but I couldn’t be sure that he wanted the same. He was still holding my hand, and I lightly squeezed his. I must have taken too long to answer, though, and I could almost feel his anxiety spike.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to assume anything. I was just… we don’t have to-“

“Hey, relax.” We stopped walking and I turned to face him, bringing my hands up to his face. “I’m all yours, if that’s what you want, too.”

There’s that smile again. “I would very much like that.”

Oh, thank God. I couldn’t stop the little sigh of relief that escaped me. I brought him in for a kiss, like we were sealing a deal, and I didn’t give a shit if anyone saw us.

~

A couple nights later, after a particularly exhausting shift, we opted to stay in, deciding on take-out and a movie. I’d felt bad, being too tired to go out; the last thing I wanted was for Josh to get bored. Maybe that was just a pinch of insecurity that comes with dating someone who’s seen the world and is quite literally living a dream. But he was more than happy to snuggle up to me on the couch under a throw blanket, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on my hand.

We ate our fill, and probably did more talking than we did actually watching the movie. It didn’t bother me one bit; I could listen to him talk for days.

He only sat up when his phone started buzzing from the coffee table. He glanced at it and sighed before laying back down against me.

“Not gonna answer it?”

“Nope,” he replied. I assumed it was maybe a spam call or just an unknown number, but he clarified his refusal. “It’s my ex. He calls sometimes when he’s drunk, which is… all the time,” he muttered, clearly frustrated.

“Do you still talk to him?” I was really only curious at this point. Some would probably be jealous or annoyed if their partner was still in contact with an ex, but I was the one who had him now, the one who got to hold onto him while he ignored the other’s phone calls. It made me feel a little full of myself, actually.

“I try not to. We… it didn’t end well.”

“How long ago did you split?”

“We were together for almost two years, and we broke up a year ago.”

I noticed he was picking at his cuticles, and I gently grabbed his hand to still him. “And he’s still trying? Why don’t you block him?”

The fidgeting was getting worse. He did not want to talk about this, that much was obvious. I started to apologize, to tell him he didn’t have to get into it if he didn’t want to, but he sat up again and grabbed his phone. It had started to ring for the second time and he pressed ‘Decline.’ He didn’t speak until he pulled up the screen in the settings that displays all the blocked numbers. “I’ve tried.” He showed me a list of five different ones, all with 720 area codes. “He just keeps getting new numbers.”

“What…? Josh, that’s fucking creepy.”

He shrugged and tossed his phone down on the couch. “It’s fine. He’s just irritating.” Something about the way he brushed it off so casually made me sure it was worse than he was letting on, and I’m sure I looked horrified. “You did ask if I had any crazy exes.” He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

I was worried but I didn’t want to annoy him by making a big deal out of something that didn’t have to be. At best, Josh was right and this guy was nothing more than an inconvenience. At worst… well, I didn’t really want to think about that too much. I had a lot of questions, but I didn’t know if he would get aggravated by my pestering. I told myself I’d learn more when the time was right, and I swore to myself I would be sure not to make the same mistakes as the guy who lost him.

///

TAGLIST Let me know if you want to be added!

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama @katuschka @lilbitx

[1goatman1]

I WILL TRY??? IM SO BAD AT ARTICULATING MY FEELINGS AND IM RUNNING ON NO SLEEP BUT HERE WE GO MY THOUGHTS ON FUUTA it got a bit long so. under the cut

the thing that drew me to him (and got me into milgram as a whole) in the first place was the fact that his songs go absolutely insanely hard. and theyre exactly my taste in music

hes an angry little guy and i am drawn to angry characters like a moth to a fucking flame, i have NO idea why, its facinating to me

hes red KJASDHFKJHASGDFKHJ my fav colour....

i think the fact that. i can SEE I CAN SO SEE HOW HE IS WHEN HES IN A GOOD MINDSET. because i dont think EVEN IN BRING IT ON hes in a good mindset i think hes in a not great place in bring it on he just doesnt really realise/acknowledge it. but i can SEE how he would be when happy and the fact we never really see that makes me insane

that paired with the fact that That Happens in trial 2 and we see him so broken and so so afraid which is SO unlike him hes usually hiding his fear behind 100 layers of anger like in his first voice drama it just did something to me and now i have like this primal urge to protect him KJHASGDFKJA

ive always been drawn to characters that deflect/bottle up like crazy

that being said hes also like a feral dog to me and he makes me a feral dog when i see him

he had ISSUES growing up with his parents (dad) which im normal over

HES A LITTLE BROTHER????? i go insane.

im repeating my points but he hides everything behind layers of anger because he thinks that makes him look stronger and it makes him FEEL tougher but really hes terrified

like hes an adult(not really) hes 20 and if i was like 15 when i got into milgram id be like yeah ok hes an adult hes a bit like. thats a weird way for an adult to act ngl even if i am a sucker for the angry characters. but the fact im HIS AGE puts him more as a kid in my eyes because lets be real 20 is still super young. and the whole. hiding his fear behind anger thting is just SUCH a child thing to do to me and i think that just makes me want to protect him MORE

that paired with the fact in the trial 2 interrogation he says the person he wants to see the most is his MOTHER???????? and iirc he says it using a really childish uhh dialect(? idk the word) im insane. hes just a boy in way over his head help me

he also says he just wants something to rely on AUUUUU I CAN HELP HIM I CAN MAKE HIM BETTER I JUST KNOW ITTTTT

my love for him is a healthy mix between wanting to protect/help him, relating to him just a little, and him just being like. if you got every character i ever liked and made the "perfect" character for me it would be fuuta SJFHGSAKDFGASJKD

all that being said i love love love how nice he becomes to mahiru after kotoko happens. trauma bonding frfr. im so excited (scared) to see his reaction to uh. That. in trial 3

WITH SHIDOU TOO i think T3 shidou + mahiru will break him a little bit which will just make me wanna help him even more

hes SO SO NICE BUT LIKE. DOESNT SHOW IT???? in t1 interrogation he says harukas young so he takes care of him (plus when he completely 180s on that in trial 2, AUGH im hurt), + what i just talked about with mahiru, hes really actually nice but he just. puts on a front so it doesnt look it.

i also think hes not actually THAT uhh aggressive with like. "people who do bad things are scum" i think he just played it up to fit in with his friends and then at some point he forgot he was playing it up if that makes sense.

playing off of THAT i have like 0 evidence for this but i know in my heart he didnt really have any friends at uni and when he started to kinda become friends with the group from bring it on he like changed himself to fit perfectly with them and it backfired horribly i just KNOW IT i have NO EVIDENCE but it HAPPENED TRUST ME . and that makes me insane also

anyways. im repeating the same points over and over so.

oh i think hes adorable too cant forget that. pretty boy

and he triggers my cuteness aggression like no one else does okay im done now JKHSGFDJKASDFA

Guys, please help me out, I wanna see something here!

If possible, can you guys tell me your favourite Milgram prisoners and list out all the reasons why you love love love love love them so much, as many and detailed as you can? (Appearance features that stand out to you; Personality; Character Quirks; etc etc. Everything you can think of!!!)

Thank you so much! 🙇✨

[fizzle-fag]

Doodle I made of my beloved boygirlfriend while watching Fringe

[locusfandomtime]

you can really tell the different audience demographics of Lifesteal vs Hermitcraft by the comment sections because the average spokeishere or whatever comment is like “LIKE THIS if you are a real Spoke fan!!! ❤️👊😎 if this comment gets 100 LIKES ill tell my mom to subscribe 🤪 who else is watching in 2028❓❓😂” whilst the average ethoslab comment is like “my wife is giving birth but this is more important”

[dykedvonte]

Do you have anything you've been thinking on but just haven't made a post about it yet? Also I'm really enjoying your fic!

I have a few things but it's likely mostly headcanons that I consider somewhat disconnected from my analysis.

Curly's parents had him old, only child, died shortly after he graduated and got the pony express position. It was the last big thing they saw him do which is a reason he stayed for so long.

Doesn't admit how much their death affected him

Jimmy has a largish family. One of the cases of too many kids to keep tract of, parent never really noticed any of them nor their behaviors

Anya lived in a lot of houses growing up, regular supportive family that just struggled to support themselves.

Became a nurse largely to avoid their financial struggles but mostly because she felt too many people weren't being cared for and advocated for in the world properly

Swansea likes high top sneakers most. Likes how snug they fit and how they shield his ankles at work

Curly has a bit of a caffeine problem since he can’t sleep. Can occasionally be found wandering the ship at “night” when he had some too late or just couldn’t sleep.

Daisuke knows a little about a lot of things. Starts conversations with “did you know” a lot but please don’t ask him deeper questions

Curly has known Jimmy longer but has worked with Anya and Swansea longer, met them during his middle years, met Jimmy shortly before college.

Swansea rents a house, Daisuke’s family lives in a big nice apartment, Curly has a condo, Anya live in a small one bedroom apartment and Jimmy has a studio.

Curly's home is very disconcerting. It's too normal to a like uncanny degree.

Anya is ambidextrous but prefers her left.

Anya and Curly are both not native English speakers so occasionally they forget words and bond over the mutual mocking they get from the rest of the crew. Daisuke knows some Japanese but is still learning, never picked it up as a kid

Only Swansea and Daisuke know how to drive, Earth in my mind is very post capitalist so only older people and like the extremely wealthy can afford cars.

It's also like walkable just due to how many businesses are in your face. Probably strict living vs shopping districts

I have more but the way that I headcanon about them is like too long.

[disobey-disappoint-deviate]

I like Carl, he isn’t my fave, but I can see the vision of what they wanted to portray - a wise old dude who sees more in androids than most other humans do, while he struggles to maintain a relationship with his disappointment of a son. It’s kinda very tropey up to the part where Markus gets shot, it's not a very original concept.

Ultimately, I think the issues with him boil down to the inability to write a believable interpersonal conflict between character who know nuance. Carl isn’t that different from other NPCs who push for a specific route. If Carl is alive and you show anger, you are punished by having him die right before you can pick your approach for the last chapter. Coincidence? Nah, that’s the game trying to sway your opinion and make you go pacifist „to honour Carl's vision“ of you the next time Markus is shown.

If that doesn’t make you feel guilty enough and pick the „good“ route, the narrative punishes you again by making Josh die and guilt-trip you with his dying words.

I don’t necessarily blame the characters for this, they are kinda made flat and unreasonable in some situations for the sole purpose of trying to force your hand and sour your victory if you don’t get it „the right way“. That’s not on them but on the storytelling, which refuses to stay neutral and let you play the fucking game the way you wanna. So ultimately, I prefer to see Carl (and the other NPCs) as more than what we are shown, otherwise they simply aren’t believable to me personally.

can i get peoples takes on carl and his relationship with markus? Im personally trying to like carl as a character but i seriously cannot. First and foremost he is quite literally a deadbeat, neglecting his son who says to his face that Carl would much rather have an obedient 'robot' as a son who could do no wrong than an actual human with faults. And, of course that's not completely true, we don't know the full story, and one could blame Leo's behavior on his addiction to red ice, but as a father, shouldn't Carl at least check up on him?? him denying markus from speaking to Leo/sending him a message on his behalf speaks volumes. "no, don't bother" When he knows good and well that his own son is struggling with *something* (pssst, maybe it's paternal neglect!!) and still goes out of his way to NOT speak with him. Secondly (and this never fails to piss me off) when markus returns to carl at the last chapter, if you choose to show anger Carl completely disparages his emotions and says he used to be "so calm and thoughtful". Hmmm yeah, who knew that becoming deviant actually came with changes like, i don't know, having an actual personality separate from cl coding, emotions and a different worldview, how queer!! Carl outright denies markus his anger towards the murder and genocide of his people, when Markus has every right to be angry. but no, markus can't be angry, he must be calm and collected and must yearn for peace through pacifism and gentle persuasion, otherwise he'll become a monster who kills with no mercy! cause that makes sense.

I'm mostly mad with the writing of these characters. actually, i'm basically ONLY mad at that, because i know for a fact david cuck wanted to make carl this old man who's a father figure and role model to markus, a man who seems to be with androids, but at the same time only sees them as slaves..? the moment markus was tossed away he got a quick replacement, like it was ever that easy. hhh okay rant over, still curious to know how other people feel abt carl... cuz i sure don't like him ://

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever