#add a couple tracks to your playlist
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cinamun · 10 months ago
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I'm interrupting your regularly scheduled programming to let you know that I can't stop thinking about how they covered up Donny Hathaway's death by officially calling it suicide. He didn't jump, he was incapacitated and pushed, and it was all because his music and skill in composition was unmatched and white music producers wanted his music, hence his last words.
No one has ever come close to this man's vocal range which is in its own category; Deep Soul.
He was considered the most prolific Deep Soul artist of his time having major influences on modern music. You can't think of soul music without thinking of this man. He was a brilliant musician and created the most beautiful love song ever recorded.
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f1goat · 1 year ago
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regret + lando norris (one shot)
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In which Lando breaks up with you, but starts to regret it even more when he sees you back on the racetrack. Can he still fix things?
lando norris x fem!y/n tw: small mentions of a panic attack & not proof read requested: yes
masterlist - playlist
“Y/N?”
This is exactly something you hoped that wouldn’t happen this weekend. Since your breakup with Lando, you haven’t seen him anymore. You also didn’t went to any races anymore. Until today. During your relationship with Lando you spent a lot of time on the different race tracks. You were with him almost every race. That resulted into getting to know a lot of the drivers personally, you quickly became great friends with Alex and his girlfriend Lily, but also with others like Daniel, Oscar, Max, Charles and Carlos. It took them a while before they could convince you, but they are exactly why you’re here right now.
And that makes them also the reason behind your unwanted meet up with Lando himself. 
“Hey,” you say with a soft tone. What if Lando will get mad that you’re here? Fuck. The first free practice didn’t even start yet and you already ran into Lando. Where are your friends when you need them? Now that you think about it, weren’t you walking here with Daniel? Where has he gone off to?
“What are you doing here?” Lando asks you confused. He doesn’t mind you being here, at least he thinks so now, but he wonders how you have gotten here. Normally he was the one who took you with him to a Grand Prix. He’s quick to wonder if someone else on the grid is dating you and took you here with him.
“Uh, a few friends invited me,” you explain, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No!” Lando is quick to reply, “uh no of course not, you’re free to come here,” he adds awkwardly.
“Great,” you say even more awkward then Lando’s earlier words.
“Who uh invited you?” Lando continues to ask.
“Uh you know that one group text right? With the boys we always did the most things with?” You ask Lando. He nods. “It comes from them. So uh Alex, Max, Charles, Carlos, Daniel and Oscar,” you tell him.
“Oh uh nice,” Lando replies.
Before Lando or you can make another awkward statement, Daniel is already reappearing next to you. You’re thankful that he has showed up again. Hopefully he will save you from this awkward conversation. Of course you knew you would see Lando somewhere this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to happen on the first hour you were around. 
There isn’t any bad blood between Lando and you. At least you think so. Lando broke things off a couple weeks ago after the two of you almost dated for a year. He didn’t gave a great reason, he just told you he needed to regain his focus on racing and that he couldn’t manage that with you around. At first you didn’t understand, but later you heard from mutual friends that things were a bit different. It seems like Zak had a bit more influence in Lando his decision then you thought at first. But still, Lando chose this himself. 
You can safely say that you miss Lando and everything you two had together. Even now when you see him again, it pains you that you can’t hug or kiss him. While Daniel makes conversation with Lando, you focus yourself on him as well. You take a good look at him. Lando doesn’t look good. His face seems white and his eyes are puffy. He seems tired. You almost ask him how he’s feeling, but Daniel is quick to walk away with you from Lando.
“Let him feel bad,” Daniel tells you, “remember this is his own fault. He chose to broke up.”
You sigh. “I know Dan,” you reply, “but you can’t blame me for caring about him. He looks bad.”
“He should.”
Lando can’t shake off his negative thoughts when he sees Daniel walking away with you. He keeps wondering about what Daniel is doing here with you. Is it possible that you already forgot about him and moved on with someone else? Someone like Daniel maybe? Lando didn’t want to break things off with you, but he felt like he had no choice. 
Now he knew that he should have talked about it with you, but it’s already too late. His friends have told him about his mistake and how he should have handled things. But it’s still too late. He can’t change what he did anymore. He can only life with the consequences. 
It wasn’t his own idea to break up with you. Zak came to him after the race in Qatar. The weekend was already shitty, but after talking with Zak it became even worse. You weren’t there that weekend. You had a birthday that you couldn’t miss and Lando had lied to you that he would be fine without you for a weekend when you told him you could fly in later. His whole weekend was about you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much he missed you that weekend. He almost bought plane tickets so you could still come.
Then there was the qualifications in which he lost his fastest lap to track limits.
Then there was the sprint race, where his rookie teammate was better then him.
Then there was the actual race, where he wasn’t allowed to overtake his rookie teammate.
He doesn’t blame Oscar, but he does blame himself. The weekend was bad. You weren’t there to talk to about everything. Of course you texted and called him, but every time you asked how he was he lied and told you that he was fine. 
Then Zak came to him after the race. He didn’t say much, only that Lando should think about his priorities if he ever wanted to win a race. That was the last drop for him. Instead of getting mad at Zak for even suggesting something that ridiculous, he became mad at himself. Zak was right. He wasn’t focused lately. He only thought about you. This weekend was the perfect example. Without even giving it a second thought he called you on FaceTime. He broke up with you without giving you an explanation. 
He’s a dick.
And now you’re here with his friends. He told a few of them what really happened. They told him they would try to help him to fix things. But now he only thinks that they were lying. It seems like they have chosen your side. Something he can’t blame them for.
Fuuuuuck. He hates himself.
And he misses you.
In the mean time Daniel brought you back to Lily. It’s time for the boy to get into their cars and start the first practice. Together with Lily you spend some time at the Williams motorhome. You can’t help yourself and start to inform Lily about your encounter with Lando. 
“Is it bad that I still want him back?” You ask Lily softly. You almost feel ashamed for your question. What’s wrong with you to want someone back who broke up with you over FaceTime? 
“No,” Lily is quick to reply with a firm answer, “and to be honest with you, I get it.”
“You get it?”
“Girl, you were so happy with him,” Lily sighs, “of course I get it. I don’t know if it’s right, but I really get it. If you can keep a secret, I can tell you exactly why I get it.”
“Of course,” you quickly react. You’re already glad that Lily gets the way your feeling. Earlier today you tried to tell Daniel, but he didn’t get it. 
“Alex and I had a similar experience,” Lily confesses, “When he was still with RedBull a similar thing happened to us. Alex had a massive fall out that he wasn’t focused enough and that is was because of me, that he was going to lose his seat if he didn’t fix it. We took a break then.”
“How did you fix that?”
“His focus became worse,” Lily laughs, “after five weeks he came crawling back. It pained me, don’t get me wrong, but I have had similar conversations with some coaches. So I knew what he was hearing and how bad the timing was, so I forgave him. We’re stronger since that break then ever before.”
“Do you think there’s hope for Lando and me?” You ask Lily hopefully.
“If you can forgive him then there is,” Lily answers directly. 
“What if he doesn’t come back?”
“Believe me girl, he is already a mess,” Lily laughs, “Maybe he just needs a final push, but he won’t last long anymore. Look at his results from the last week, he’s even more unfocused since the break up.”
“Final push?” You ask a bit confused.
“Lando is a bit more unsure then Alex, you know? I think he needs a final push to make him snap and confess. Otherwise he won’t stop sulking. But don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of that push.”
“Thanks Lily.”
+++
You don’t know if Lily has already thought of something, but you notice that Lando is surprisingly close to you during the weekend. It seems like he’s always around. He isn’t speaking to you, but you feel his eyes on you everywhere you go. 
It’s already Saturday, the weekend is going by fast. It’s almost time for qualifications. You’re walking with Daniel. You have spend a lot of time with him the last days. He can easily distract you from your thoughts about Lando. He’s fun to be around, mainly because he’s always joking. But still, he’s not Lando. Fuck. 
It doesn’t surprise you when you notice Lando again. This time he’s walking towards Daniel and you. You wonder if he’s going to say something. It seems like he’s getting ready to say something to Daniel, you or the both of you.
“Can I talk to you Daniel?” Lando asks when he’s standing in front of you. Daniel nods and walks away from you with Lando. He quickly says that Lily is already waiting for you at the Williams garage to watch the session together. You wish him good luck and turn around as well. 
Lando doesn’t know where to start when Daniel is standing in front of him. He wants to say many things and ask even more things. 
“What is it Lando?” Daniel asks him a bit annoyed. It’s clear that he took your side, it’s written all over his face. Lando gets it. Of course he does.
“Are you seeing Y/N?” He asks at first.
“Seeing Y/N?” Daniel asks confused.
“Yeah, are you dating her on something?” Lando asks further.
Daniel laughs loudly. “You’re joking right?”
“No? You’re spending a lot of time with her,” Lando continues.
“And so what Lando? You broke up with her,” Daniel says mad, “On fucking FaceTime. You don’t have the right to ask every boy around her about his intentions with her. She isn’t yours anymore!”
“Fuck, sorry,” Lando mutters before he quickly walks away from Daniel.
He’s glad when he’s sitting in his car a couple minutes later. This should help him to focus on something else then you. Right? But even when he’s driving as fast as he can manage, he can’t stop thinking about you. He only thinks about you. He can’t focus on where to brake or when to increase or decrease his speed. 
It doesn’t even surprise him when his board radio tells him he wasn’t fast enough for the next session. He’s out. 
Fuck.
“I told you, he isn’t more focused,” Lily states while watching the session on the big screen. Together you watch and hear Lando his disappointed reaction to hearing he’s out. You feel bad for him. 
“Should I go to him?” You ask Lily.
“I don’t know,” Lily answers honestly, “I get it that you want to, but maybe he needs to get a bit more frustrated with his choice.”
“But he’s probably really mad at himself now,” you say, “and he must be so disappointed. What if Zak tells him more bad things?” 
“I understand you, I just don’t know if it’s smart. If I were you, I would wait until tomorrow. Let him be mad at himself for a bit, it won’t hurt him.”
+++
“You need to help me,” Lando states, “All of you.”
In front of him are Daniel, Max and Oscar. He found them and brought them all together. After his qualification session he realized that he really needs you back. He already knew that after the horrible words left his mouth during that awful FaceTime call, but now he needs to take action. This can’t last longer. He can’t last any longer without you.
“I want Y/N back,” Lando confesses, “It was a fucking mistake and I hate myself for it. How can I deserve another shot with her?”
Daniel laughs. Max and Oscar don’t know what to say.
“That’s rich,” Daniel laughs, “You think you still deserve her after this?”
“Daniel,” Max warns his friend, “Don’t be too hard on him.”
“What? It’s true, he did it himself,” Daniel continues, “If he thought about it, he would have known directly that it was stupid.”
Lando sighs. “I know,” he says, “and I really regret everything I did. But I need to know if I have a chance to win her back.”
“I don’t know if you deserve it,” Daniel replies, “but I’ll try to help. But only because she’s pretty miserable as well.”
Max and Oscar both nod as well showing their agreement with Daniel. Lando lets out a relieved sigh. He knows they mean it well and he’s even glad with the honesty of his friends. He deserves this. 
“To be fair mate, I think you just need to talk to her and explain everything,” Max suggests. 
“Yeah and apologize a lot of course,” Oscar adds.
“I’ll ask her if she wants to talk to you,” Daniel says eventually, “I’ll text you her answer, then you can do the rest.”
“Thanks guys,” Lando says, “Thank you so much.”
+++
Daniel: She is up for it. Ask her to talk with you after the race.
Daniel: And don’t let the outcome of the rest influence you!
Lando: thank you so much
Lando is nervous when he sits in his car. It’s not the race he’s nervous about, he knows it’s already a lost cause. He won’t score any points from his starting position, he’s starting eighteenth for fucks sake. And even if his strategy is good, he’s way too unfocused for the race. He won’t manage anything successful before talking to you. He can only think about all the things he needs to say to you.
How can he find the right words to excuse to you? He has to make so many apologies, he doesn’t even know where to start. He sees the start sign and tries to focus on the race again. He drives away from his spot as fast as he can manage. In the mean time he focusses on the cars around him. 
He overtakes the first car in front of him. Even if he says it himself, it was a nice move. He starts to feel a bit more confident. 
“Good move,” his board radio tells him, “Let’s try to get some points.”
Lando focusses on the next car in front of him. He tries to remember which Williams qualified as worst from the two. He guesses it’s Sergeant. As fast as his car can manage he drives towards the Williams car. He positions himself and makes himself ready to overtake him as well. At first he tries to overtake him on the outside. He misses a bit of speed. The next DRS zone he tries again, this time he’s on the inside.
Right when he’s sure that he’s past the Williams, he feels himself losing the control of his car. Before he knows it he’s spinning off the track. Fucking hell. 
Only minutes later he’s walking back towards his motorhome. That was a shitty race. He sighs. When he’s back at his motorhome he’s surprised to notice that you’re standing in front of it. He must be hallucinating, right? Maybe he hit his head harder then he thought. 
“Lan,” you quickly say when he’s standing in front of you, “Are you okay?” 
“What are you doing here?” Lando asks confused.
“I’m worried about you!” You exclaim, “It looked scary when you went off the track like that.”
“You’re worried about me?” Lando asks even more confused, “Why?”
“You can break up with me, but you can’t expect me to lose all my feelings for you,” you say bitterly.
“You still have feelings for me?” Lando asks you.
“It hasn’t been that long since the breakup,” you tell Lando, “Of course I still have feelings for you Lan. Or did you already lose all your feelings for me?” You feel yourself getting nervous after your last question. Fuck. What if he already feels nothing for you anymore?
“No of course not,” Lando quickly says, “I haven’t lost even a tiny bit of them.”
“You wanted to talk to me said Daniel,” you continue, “Maybe we can talk now?”
“Yes, yes,” Lando replies, “Let’s go to my drivers room.”
Together you walk into the motorhome. A couple mechanics say they’re sorry for Lando and his lost race when you’re walking past them. They greet you as well. One of them even says he’s glad to see you again. You smile at him. You’ve missed this place. Normally you would watch every race here.
“Wait Lando, it’s time for debrief,” you hear someone say, when you look around you notice Zak. You start to feel nervous. You always thought Zak was alright with you. It wasn’t like you were best friends, but you were friendly with each other. Now you think he really dislikes you. If you understand it right, he’s the one who told Lando to break up with you. 
“I don’t have time,” Lando simply states.
“It’s fine Lan, we can talk later,” you quickly interrupt, “You can do your debrief first. I’ll wait.”
“You heard the lady Lando, let’s go,” Zak says.
“No!” Lando almost screams the simple word, “Debrief without me. I don’t have time today. If you didn’t notice it already Zak, I have something more important to do.”
“Real race winner mentality you have here Lando,” Zak mutters annoyed. 
“Fuck off,” Lando sneers. He takes your hand into his own and drags you with him towards his drivers room. You’re thankful when you’re standing inside it. Lando drops your hand and starts to walk around in the tiny space. He seems nervous. 
“What did you want to talk about?” You ask Lando after a while of silence.
“Us,” Lando replies, “but I don’t know where to start.”
You notice the short breaths Lando takes. It reminds you of something. You remember what happened after the first race of this season. Lando had a massive panic attack. The bad team result made him stressed out for the rest of the season. The short breaths were one of the first signs back then. What if this means he will have another panic attack?
With small steps you walk closer to Lando. “Calm down,” you tell him, “let’s sit down together. We can figure it out where to start with this conversation. I’m stressed as well about it.”
Lando nods. He follows you towards the couch. Together you sit down. You move your hand onto his back, slowly you try to comfort him. Lando is still taking short breaths. 
“What.. what if,” Lando stutters, “What if uh, I uh.”
“Talk slowly baby,” you softly interrupt him. 
“What if I can’t fix this?” Lando speaks in one breath. “Fuck, what if I can’t show you that I’m really sorry?” He starts to speak even faster, “What if I lose you for good? Or what if you hate me?” 
“Relax baby,” you say, “I don’t hate you.”
“You should.”
“Lando, please relax before you will stress yourself into a panic attack,” you tell him.
“I can’t lose you,” Lando says. 
“You’re not going to lose me,” you harshly state, “If you were I wouldn’t be here right now. I want to fix things as well Lando.”
That makes him silent for a bit. You notice the tears rolling down onto his face. Softly you sigh. You pull Lando onto yourself. He quickly changes his position and lets his head lay down on your lap. You caress his hair. Lando lets out a soft sob. It pains you to see him like this. How can you fix this?
“I still love you,” you tell Lando.
Lando sobs even louder.
“And I heard from the guys what happened with Zak,” you continue to speak, “We can fix this Lando, it wasn’t only your fault. Lily told me that something similar happened to her and Alex as well and it only made their relationship stronger. We can learn from this as well.”
“You ssst. You still want me?” Lando asks you while sobbing.
“Yes,” you reply firmly, “I always want you Lando.”
You feel how Lando his tense body starts to relax a bit more. You continue to tell him about how everything will be alright between the two of you. That you will forgive him for this and that you still love him. You even tell him things about the future you’re imagining with him.
“You won’t get rid of me this easily,” you eventually say. 
“I love you,” Lando says a lot more relaxed then before. He sits up straight again and looks at you. “I love you too,” you tell him. Lando presses his lips against yours. You taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips, but you don’t focus on that thought. You can only think about how much you missed this.
Of course, there are still plenty things to talk about but Lando and you will manage. The two of you will fix this. Things will be alright again.
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landograndprix · 1 year ago
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「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」
part vii
✧.* you've finally secured your well deserved p1 after months of suffering with red bull and while you celebrate it the right way, love is in the air and everybody sees it now.
✧.* when i think about my muppets i think about this song, should i make like a playlist of songs that remind me of this fic, give y'all the vibes ive been having? 👀 spelling mistakes add character, don't mind them 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️
✧.* prev part - next part
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, milouberger and 453,789 others
y/nusername I'd like to thank my parents— p1 baby!🏆
tagged: mclaren
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y/nloveee yes baaaaabbyyyyy 🤩🤩
norrizz one big fat fuck you to red bull!
adam_norris_pure_electric amazing race, amazing driver!🥇
carlandooo oh my gosh, I'm dead, Adam out here supporting his future daughter in law 😭
norry4 stop it 😭
ricky78 bring it home y/n!
natewhite this girls good, she should try racing in f1..
carlossainz55 well deserved! 🔥
chilisainz wish I had a supportive ex boyfriend 💀
y/nlandooo we're so back with our 1-2!
yourmomsuser super proud of you! 🥰
milouberger back where you belong!
hamilt44n girl, shut up..as if you didn't try to push her off the track halfway..🤨
redbullgirl come back please, perez is a joke 😢
landonorris that's my girlfriend 😍
bott_ass we were aware 😂
landonorris you got any plans tonight? wanna celebrate?
landosmclaren HOWLING ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED
maxfewtrell mega race 🙌
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landonorris posted on their story
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cecilemoulin posted to their story
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liked by landonorris, riabish and 689,872 others
y/nusername ending an amazing weekend with my favorite lil' guy 🧡
tagged: landonorris
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norrizz honestly such a power couple!!
sharl16 oh they in love love huh?
bott_ass not the after sex selfie 😭
bananaclerc I was looking for this comment 😭
y/nlando y/n's finally showing more of her and lando on here 🥺
mrsnorris 🤮 get someone your own age 🤮
cecilemoulin I just know y'all were late because you've been watching tiktok's in bed all morning..
y/nusername Cecile thirst trap edits go hard
carlandooo y'all think y/n finally realised she likes this man? Seemed pretty one sided to me for a hot minute 😂
ceciley/n I think Cecile said in an interview that THEY aren't used to dating younger dudes and that she felt out of place for the first few weeks..pretty sure she meant herself and y/n 😉
carlandooo CECILE IS DATING SOMEONE?
ceciley/n yeah..max fewtrell? Girl where have you been? 😂
carlandooo under a fucking rock apparently! Wow, these girls really said young, cute and british? Yes ma'am 🥰 so real of them
ceciley/n a couple of besties dating another couple of besties 😂
hamilt44n where are Carlos and Pierre now? You think they gave up? :')
landonorris favourite lil' muppet 🧡
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @glow-ish
Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10
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tammyjackson50-blog · 6 months ago
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**Sam Monroe as Your High School Boyfriend Headcanons**
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2024 ,modern edition
~~~
• Sam’s got this grunge meets modern aesthetic. Vintage band tees paired with the latest AirPods Pro, always blasting some random playlist he found at 2 AM.
• His locker? It’s a chaotic masterpiece of old Polaroids, random doodles, notebooks he rarely uses, and a tiny succulent you gave him. It somehow thrives amidst the chaos.
• Every morning, he waits for you by the school gate, leaning against his bike. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets, smirking as he hands you your favorite coffee.
• You two are the power couple in the art room. He’s sketching away, earbuds in, while you’re working on your latest project. Sometimes he’ll pause, look at you, and say, “That’s incredible, babe,” making you smile each time.
• Sam’s a meme Lord. He sends you the funniest TikToks during class, and it’s a miracle neither of you have been caught laughing out loud by the teachers.
" Sam, stop sending me tiktoks! Listen to the teacher! "
• He’s surprisingly tech-savvy. When your laptop crashes the night before a big assignment is due, Sam comes over , fixing it with a “Don’t worry, I got this,” and a few clever hacks.
• Date nights are a mix of rooftop stargazing and binge-watching the latest Netflix series. “Just one more episode,” he always says, and you both know it’s never just one more.
• You have a shared Spotify playlist. It’s a mix of your favorite songs, his angsty tracks, and the random bops you both discover. He’ll occasionally add a sappy love song and then pretend he has no idea how it got there.
• He’s got this quirky humor that keeps you laughing. Once, you caught him trying to teach himself to moonwalk in his room. “Just you wait, babe. I’ll be the next MJ” he said, tripping over his own feet.
" You are so random " You laugh.
• Sam’s protective but not overbearing. He always walks you home, making sure you’re safe, even though you insist you’re fine. “Humor me," he says, and you know it’s just his way of showing he cares.
• Sometimes he really surprise you when it comes to school, "You really did the homework?" He looks at you with an annoyed but not really annoyed stare, " Surprise, now can you tell me if I did it good? " You take a look at his notebook, he like that way you explain things to him.
• And despite his tough exterior, Sam’s a hopeless romantic. From surprise flowers in your locker to handwritten notes, he’s always finding little ways to show he loves you.
///////////
I think that it turned out pretty nice.
Edit 13/7/24: I just added a spotify playlist. Tell me in the comments if you liked the playlist I made😅😅
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therealcocoshady · 8 months ago
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Arguing with Marshall Mathers - Headcanon
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Here is how I imagine he is during an argument 🙊. Please tell me what you think, what you’d add… I’m curious 👀
What he argues about
- Let me preface this by saying that this man almost enjoys arguing and fighting when he is in a relationship. He said it himself : he is a little more happy when he is angry.
- He actually bitches a lot. And sometimes, it turns into an argument.
- He is also extremely emotional. He might not always look like it but he actually has a deep emotional range and some things hit him hard.
- Basically, he feels a lot, and sometimes, it overflows.
- He is also really passionate about certain topics and issues.
- Marshall might be the wet dream of many, he is not that easy to put up with.
- Sometimes, silly things can become arguments. That’s one of his many talents : making things more dramatic.
- Deep down, he is not the most confident human being and he has a hard time dealing with criticism.
- His first instinct is to get defensive, before getting offensive.
- Arguing with him is not all bad though. Because that’s one of the ways he shows he cares. He will not waste time arguing if he doesn’t care about the person in front of him or the subject matter.
- So if the two of you argue about your relationship (within healthy boundaries of course) it’s actually a good sign.
- If he didn’t want things to work out, he wouldn’t spent time arguing with you.
- He is, admittedly, not the best when it comes to dating and relationships so that might fuel an argument or two.
- He is a workaholic so a couple of fights about his schedule and priorities wouldn’t be surprising if it interferes with your relationship (bailing on you, last minute changes of plans, him being not focused on you enough…)
How he is when he argues
- Marshall is definitely petty and loves to have the last word.
- We all know he has a way with words and he knows exactly what buttons to push to make you mad.
- If he is extremely angry, he might be hurtful, too. Only with his words, though.
- He will never hit you or get physical during an argument. Roughhousing is only ok in the bedroom.
- He has been abusive in the past but that’s not who he is anymore.
- Sometimes, though, you wish he would just hit you in the face because it would hurt less than some of the words he uses.
- Usually, though, he doesn’t actually want to hurt you and regrets his harsh words.
- He is good at using hurtful words but he rarely, if ever, insults you.
- He doesn’t mind if you insult him though. Call him an asshole all you want. If anything, it proves he managed to get on your nerves and he likes it.
- During arguments, he actually wants to feel seen and heard. He wants to know he impacts you.
- One way to get back at him (that he absolutely hates) is giving him the silent treatment. It makes him mad.
- He’d rather have you yell at him than ignore him.
- Basically, in his mind, arguing is caring.
- He also secretly likes it when you get just as petty as him.
- You swear he sees pettiness as a sport.
- Some petty ideas to get to him include
- Having a designated “Fuck You Marshall” playlist you blast around the house when you’re mad at him.
- Said playlist would include music by artists he has a feud with, diss tracks aimed at him… 👀. And some music he hates, too.
- Another way to really piss him off would be to talk ill of the Lions 🦁
- « I hate you and the Lions suck. I’m glad the 49ers won that game ! »
- Anything light and petty is fair game.
- To be honest, he would probably find it hilarious and laugh about it afterwards.
- However there are some things you better not bring up during an argument because that will escalate very, very quickly.
- His family. You better leave his kids and his brother alone.
- If you have kids together, do not weaponize them against him. Don’t be toxic like that. Because he will not let you live it down.
- His past mistakes (abusive relationship, drug use…)
- He gets frustrated when he doesn’t manage to get his point across.
- During an argument, he is brutally honest with his feelings. No sugarcoating it.
- I can absolutely imagine him saying he loves you for the first time during an argument. He doesn’t mean to say it now but lets it slip.
- Safe to say that it puts an immediate end to the whole thing.
- (Now I want to write a one shot about this 🙈)
- He will absolutely annoy you on purpose.
- He is in his fifties but his inner annoying teenager comes out during an argument : rolling his eyes, sighing…
- There’s occasional yelling but not that much.
- If the argument is one-sided and you’re mad at him, he will absolutely try to make you laugh.
After an argument
- He doesn’t apologize easily. However, he knows when he is wrong.
- Oftentimes, he is better at showing you that he is sorry, rather than actually tell you.
- He will absolutely make it up to you with tons of attention and physical gestures.
- He might try to suck up to you with small gestures like a bouquet of flowers
- He is definitely into make up sex.
- Maybe that’s one of the reasons why he loves to argue so much.
- Overall, physical affection is a must in your relationship, especially after an argument. He needs it to feel that everything is ok between the two of you.
- Your arguments/fights might fuel his creativity. That’s the most efficient way for him to process things.
- However, you can and should expect him to take some creative liberties. He is going to make things seem bigger and more dramatic.
- Out of the two of you, he is probably the biggest drama queen 👀
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the-softest-love-is-ours · 1 year ago
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Idk if this’ll help anyone or if these are even good… just thought of stuff self shipper could do, I guess.
Anywho, here’s a list of things yo,u as a self shipper, can do for fun.
(This will be added onto with time)
Proship/Comship/Anti-Antis DNI
Play Tomodachi Life, make yourself, your main F/O, and then a bunch of family and friends and see how the shenanigans play out.
Play Sims (my choice is 4, but any one will work), same as before but this time you have mods and can control you and your F/O’s however you please.
Make kandi jewelry for each of your F/O’s, whether it’s a bracelet with their name or just a necklace with a color scheme you think fits them.
Purchase something custom from etsy and/or fiverr. These can be care packages, letters, plushies, art pieces, fanfics, maybe you could find someone who does RP asmrs, and my personal favorites an RP or an annotated book.
Look on youtube for asmrs, whether they’re RP, sleeping beside or those muffled playlist scenarios.
For those of is that are age regressor, make a custom deco paci based on your F/O.
Credits to @myselfshipdiary for this one, make a Pinterest board. They can feature fanart, aesthetic images or heck maybe recipes you would cook for them and memes you would show them.
If you have the skills, or heck even if you don’t (life’s too short, try everything, learn new skills), design something based on them. A dress, a cake, a room, a candy platter, a party, an outfit, a plushie, literally anything!
Make a breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner you think they would like! Maybe if you bring your lunch to work, make a bento for yourself that you would send to work with them.
Go on to your online shopping sites and make wishlists of thing you’d think they would want/like.
Do some research on perfume/cologne, and either track down or commission one you think they’d wear. You can do the same for all necessary toiletries if you’d like to take it a step further.
Play around on spotify (or your music service of choice) and make playlists for various scenarios.
Piggybacking of the last one, find a song that you would make their ringtone and think of what their contact name would be in your phone.
Pick out a ring you think would be the engagement/wedding ring they would give you.
Make paper doll's of you/ your self insert and your f/os) along with attachable paper clothes!
If you have access to a printer and a blank notebook/sketchbook along with some glue, you can make a scrapbook with pictures of your f/o(s)! You can also add drawings you made and anything like stickers, washi tape, etc.
This one is digital, edit a transparent of your f/os) into a selfie of yours to make a couples photo! You can print it out and put it in a frame. Also, Dollar Tree sells frames that you can also paint, put stickers on, anything!
There is an app called Social Dummy, create a social media world with you and all your F/O’s on it!
Make perler bead pixel art of your f/o.
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hnychn · 1 year ago
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I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME
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SUMMARY — If there is anything that is universally acknowledged to be wholly true and incontestable, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But does she know that?
AUTHOR’S NOTE — i got into a huge argument with my father a while back and it’s been weighing on my conscience. this series is largely based on our relationship and it’s been so therapeutic to write everything out and indirectly give myself an ending i want. the series isn’t complete, if anything, it’s no where near done. i want to make sure everything is perfect before i even think about posting the first chapter. its been so long since i’ve felt this strong need to write and i forgot how much of a beautiful feeling it is. everywhere i look and everything i see gives me so much inspiration for this series. but for now, here’s a little sneak peak of my new child.
(i am him as he is me spotify playlist)
SERIES WARNINGS — heavy religious themes, female reader, satosugu, heavy angst, child abuse, childhood neglect, reader is a brat in the beginning, reader is assumed to be a person of color, gojo’s canon age doesn’t make sense, so everyone is aged up by a couple years, etc.
TOTAL WORD COUNT — tbd…
BEFORE YOU READ — the reader is mentioned to be a third year at jujutsu tech, and i completely understand the ages and time line don’t add up, but for the sake of creativity, let’s all just pretend it makes sense and ignore the age inconsistencies. <33 thank you!! <33
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PREVIEW —
The rhythmic buzz of the cicadas and the sweltering humidity of the summer air marked the beginning of summer and the end of… everything. Satoru could feel the material of his pants begin to stick to his legs the longer he sat on the rotting wooden bench. The train tracks before him were rusted and old; they had weathered the storm of time and had the marks to prove it. These tracks were the end. The led you to the beginning. All Satoru had to do was wait.
“Maybe it was because I knew she would always come back to me. Maybe I was testing her love for me. Maybe I wanted to push her away before she pushed me away.”
“That’s a lot of maybes.”
“There’s a lot of regret.”
Satoru could still feel the weight of that nostalgic love and regret in his stomach. It has buried itself so deep within him, he’s hardly sure anything would make it go away. The woman next to him looks different now; youthful, free. Satoru wants that. But does he deserve it?
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I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME [MASTERLIST]
— CHAPTER ONE: “He Doesn’t Know I Learned it From Him.”
Gojo Satoru, in all aspects, is a God reborn. He holds the world and its universes in the palm of his flaming hand; unknowingly burning everything he holds dear.
— CHAPTER TWO: “I Was a Girl Gulping a Woman’s Grief.”
With an emotionally distant mother and a father plagued with a god complex, there weren’t many people you could look up to. maybe, you have to look down.
— CHAPTER THREE: “Do You Believe Me When I Tell You I’m Trying to be Better?”
With tensions at an all-time high, it’s hard to ignore what has gone neglected for so long. Dams are broken and feelings are hurt, but if there’s one thing everyone knows, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything. But does she know that?
— CHAPTER FOUR: “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.”
There is nothing more heroic than the sacrifices made by a mother. But what is born of those sacrifices made? Virtue? Honour? Strength? You knew the answer to that question all too well: Guilt.
— CHAPTER FIVE: “Desperation Sits Heavy on my Tongue.”
You and your father are more alike than either of you are led to believe. He doesn’t reach. You don’t beg. Where does the tension snap?
— CHAPTER SIX: “Through Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honoured One.”
Hymns were sung at his birth and prophecies were written for his future, in all aspects, Gojo Satoru was a god reborn. But who is a God to a little girl searching for her father?
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superblysubpar · 6 months ago
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"Summer Sunday nights we'd sink into our seats right as they dimmed out all the lights. A technicolor world made out of music and machine. It called me to be on that screen and live inside each scene."
Just Another Day of Sun
steve harrington x fem!reader | a sunday kind of love story
summary: a stranger and you have the same sunday rituals
3,011 words
My blog is 18+ | cw: slight descriptions and/or mentions of anxiety and anxiety symptoms - and specific anxiety about phone calls, descriptions of big feelings about the big world and our meaning and purpose / mentions of having a father, mother, brother, and a couple familiar friends - though none described physically or in depth / small mention of cat allergy / alcohol mention, use
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James Taylor’s voice cracks, it skips, and then it’s gone.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Focused on turning the cord in it’s jack, you don’t realize your question meant for your ancient Zune’s ears only, was timed perfectly with a lull in espresso machines, orders, and even music. A gift from the god of irony as an opportunity for everyone to stop their clinking of spoons in cups, for the laughter of a joke to trail off and prepare for another, presents itself while your question lingers in the air and then finally a pop playlist transitions to an even more annoying track overhead. 
Eyes blink at you, heads turn, and your cheeks warm as you shove the earbuds and device into your backpack in precisely the same way you’d bargain put you into this predicament. Your father’s voice warbles in your ears about taking care of possessions if you wanted them to last. 
You shove them harder into the bulging pack and zip it fast and dangerously close to the cord in a blatant act of revenge and defiance. 
It seems the universe is done with it’s cruel irony (for the time being) when the barista calls your name with a sigh fit for someone much older who’s lived a much longer life. As you grab your coffee they add on a dull and deeply dreary, “Have a nice day.” that makes you feel like they don’t want you to have a nice day at all, not even in the slightest. 
A quiet, “Thanks, you too,” slips past your lips, but the angsty teen is already popping a lid on another cup and calling out some other name with an equal, if not more, amount of disdain dripping from each letter. 
As your sunglasses slide over your eyes and cinnamon hits your nose, a pleasant low toned voice tells them thanks, to have a great rest of theirs too, though much louder than your pitiful response. 
Your palm meets cool glass as you push the door open with a sigh, almost masking the murmured thanks from the man behind you as you hold it open for him. His keys jangle on a carabiner attached to his belt loop when he grabs the door from you, looking over his shoulder with a smile to hold it for the next person. A small, “Mhm”, hums out of you as your fingers hook into your backpack straps and the coffee rises to your lips once more. 
Without James’ voice crooning in your ears and distracting your brain, thoughts have more room to venture, to take roots, to swell and consume. Only making the walk from the coffee shop to the book store that much longer, and far less enjoyable than it normally is. The lyrics and the steady beat of a song, the magic of instruments coming together with a voice in your eardrums is an unsatisfied craving, a crutch far more addicting than the coffee in your hand. 
When there’s music playing, it’s easy to slip into daydreams, to pretend it’s a soundtrack to a movie that someone’s enjoying somewhere. Easy to imagine scenarios of yourself on a big screen, with rhyme and reason, with a plot - a beginning, a middle, and an end that’s purposeful, well thought out. 
And if it’s all a part of some grand plan, some story the audience is privy to that you aren’t, you’re able to conclude that your purpose may be for someone else to relate to you. You are a lesson, a theme, a comfort they’ll curl up in front of when they’re feeling exactly how you’re feeling right now. When they need the reminder it gets better. When they need the reminder they’re not alone.
But, you don’t have your music today. 
So there is no soundtrack, there is no reason, there is only the great big world full of great big questions full of billions of living things, yet you are alone. 
At least, that’s what your brain wants you to think. 
So when a car drives by blaring a song that reminds you of him, you work against that pesky brain and you text your brother, asking if he has any new music he’s enjoying lately. A few moments later, the bookstore just around the corner, your phone dings with a link - “The Good Shit - Part 2” a playlist from him and a text that says:
“I require your thoughts and concerns next Friday over pizza, please. And I promise there’s only two screamo angsty songs.”
It dings again.
“Okay, four.”
The smile rests easy on your face as you reach the rolling carts lining the sidewalk. The sun reflects off of the glass, and your fingers glide over it it when the gray kitten sitting in its rays presses her nose to you from the other side. Her mouth parts in an inaudible meow and you tap your fingers gently before moving on to feeling the pages graze the pads of them. 
Despite being in the fresh air, the smell is all consuming. It’s that perfect smell that no candle, no matter how good, can fully capture. Old but not musty, somehow reminding you of a lake and cool breezes but nothing dank or dark like water damage would normally grant. Soft covers and broken bindings that makes books thwop open over your thighs as you crouch in a squat to figure out if something piques your interest enough to purchase.
Your phone doesn’t last long in the pocket it was returned to after messaging your brother when you find a book of poetry. There’s a handwritten note on the inside cover that your fingers brush, yearning to know who Morgan is and where she is now, and if she’s the one who wrote on the pages, who underlined and dog earred, or if it was someone before or after her. 
A particular poem catches your eye, your lips part as you read it, though no words escape them. Something in your chest aches, and you snap a photo of it, sending a message to her of the image and a single line that says ‘thinking of you’ and slip the book on top of the worn and well loved copy of Franny and Zooey you’ve already discovered and claimed for yourself and the romantic comedy for your mom.
The door chimes as you make your way to the counter to purchase your finds, though not without a proper hello and a scratch behind the new store kitten’s ears, her purrs seeming to echo amidst the quiet shelves. 
“Hey little lady,” you whisper as she nuzzles into your fingers and lets out a soft meow. The space between her ears begs to be kissed as she paws at your thumb and you murmur, “Don’t give me that look, you know I can’t. My face’ll get all red and puffy and we don’t want that, do we?”
She hops off of the bookshelf without warning and darts into the aisle, a hand grabs a coffee to go cup from the ground just as she pounces and he taunts, “Oooh, so close. Maybe next time kiddo.”
The kitten weaves in and out of his legs as he stands and faces away from you, carefully stepping as she follows and meows and he speaks to her again, something that you can’t quite make out, and you frown. 
Traitor. 
And you’re not alone in this thought, the cashier smiles at you as you set your books next to the old register and she muses with raised eyebrows, “I think you have competition.”
“Nah, she just wants him for his coffee. I’m still number one.”
The cashier smiles at something over your shoulder as she punches in the book totals, and you turn to see for yourself.
He squats slowly, outreaching his hand towards her from a few feet away, speaking softly. His carabiner jangles and you realize it’s the same man from the coffee shop when he talks in the same low and soothing tone as the cat hears the sound too. 
“Oh?” He pulls the keys from the belt loop and jangles them in front of her as she steps closer and closer, “We like keys?”
His cheek pulls up in a grin, pushing two freckles that dot it up as he gets to pet her. 
“Careful,” the cashier calls out to him with a fondness, “She’ll steal them and you’ll never see them again.”
The stranger turns to face you both and your breath catches from his laugh before his attention is back on the kitten, who flops over and lets him fawn over her while she purrs. 
The cashier holds out your books to you with a smug grin. “Still think you’re number one?”
“Yes,” you nod determined, voice quieter as you add on, “Coffee and carabiners and cheek freckles will come and go, but I am a sure thing every Sunday, and she knows it.”
She hums and nods, something glinting in her eyes as she says, “I’ll see you next week.”
Leaving your little oasis is easier than it was getting there. 
Despite no soundtrack still, the coffee is in your system, and the energy of the bookstore envelopes you, the smell lingers on your clothes, letting you can carry a little piece of its calm and comfort with you to keep going. 
Soon your backpack bulges no longer, the blanket rolled out over a perfect spot of grass in the park, your notebooks and books and pens surround where you lay on it. A small bag of peaches and cherries you snagged from the little farmer’s market between here and the store and an iced tea fuel your writing for a good hour.
It feels good, like the words aren’t sitting on the tip of your tongue, but jumping off of it headfirst like a diving board and the page their pool. Without your music though, it’s easy for small thoughts to attempt to linger. They make the water a little murky, some of the words peeking over the board to see just how high they have to fall before they take the leap. 
The rewrite of one sentence in particular has you wondering if that feeling ever goes away. If you will ever stop doubting you’ve made the right choice. What if one sentence becomes your defining moment? The line that breaks the script, the pitch, the story? Even worse, what if it’s all of the lines? What if you’re not as good as you think? Who are you to think you can do this? 
But an image of a little girl in a chair too big for her staring up at a screen that glows while a long and seemingly never ending list of names scrolls, and another who’s in bed with a book light and telling her parents one more chapter till the sun is starting to rise, has you roll your shoulders back and make your brain think of different questions. 
What if you write a story that changes someone’s life? What if you write a story that gives someone their big break? What if you write a story that provides jobs, makes dreamers, encourages and supports hope and love? What if you write a story that makes even one person in this great big world, with great big questions, feel a little less alone?
So you keep writing, and the sun slants over your body in different squares and triangles as it shifts in the sky and the breeze blows your pages and kisses your cheeks and you think about the movies and writers you dream of making and whom you aspire to be like. 
When you bite into a second peach, your eyelashes flutter closed, tongue catching juice on your bottom lip, and you don’t think twice about reaching for your phone. 
You do, however, think twice about your text, over-analyzing a joke about a peach as thick and juicy as how you want your ass to be. But instead you opt for:
Do you remember when you said something about peaches, I can’t remember exactly, but something about searching your whole life for the right one, but knowing that none will ever live up to the one you just had and you’re depressed you’ll never taste that again?
Her dots appear and then a message of:
“Of course. I’ll never forget that peach.”
You smile and type back:
“I think I just found mine.”
The phone starts ringing, her contact photo filling the screen and making you smile wider. Though your thumb hesitates, you take a deep breath and answer. 
“Hello?” Your fingers fiddle with the grass in front of you, eyes glancing around the park and catching on one person in particular.
“Hi,” she says, and you swear you can hear the smile, and you hate that she isn’t close enough to be having this conversation in person. Especially when she tacks on, “Tell me about this peach.”
Your laugh is real, and present, and happy, and the stranger you’re staring at looks up at the sound.
The same messy brown hair flops over his forehead, his body laid out on his own blanket just a ways from yours. A bag of pea pods rests next to folded arms that hold a book, those same two freckles lift as he smiles at you with a nod as you look down from being caught ogling. 
“Right,” you clear your throat, “The peach. So…”
Which is why, much later, you snap a picture of the sunset from the patio. The sky looks exactly like the peach you’ll never have again. The perfect combination of oranges and pinks merging with blue to make a deep gold and maroon, hand painted sort of scene, that pairs perfectly with the glass of red wine you’re sipping. You send it to them with the words “Are you kidding me?”. 
You’re mesmerized by the sky above the twinkling marquee across the road and as the colors shift once more, you lift your phone to snap another photo, knowing it won’t ever look half as good as it does in person. The slow of dark jeans and white sneakers to your right on the sidewalk have you dropping your phone.
“Go ahead-“
“No, take your-“
Both of you speak and stop at the same time.
The stranger from the coffee shop, the bookstore, and the park stands in front of you, blinking. Up close, you can spot even more freckles than the two dotting his cheek, noticing another pair that rest just above the collar of his white tshirt. His eyes sparkle, and remind you a little of honey and cinnamon and the perfect coffee you had this morning. 
He raises his hands in surrender and you swallow at the glint of a silver bracelet that matches the chain around his neck, more freckles accenting tanned skin and muscular arms. 
“I swear,” he laughs, “I’m not stalking you.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Your lips purse and your eyes narrow. 
He grins as his hands slowly fall, his tongue darts out over his lower lip before he speaks again. 
“Well, I don’t know, maybe because you’re stalking me, and so naturally, you’d assume I’m lying and doing the same thing.”
A scoff and a laugh mix inside of you and tumble out and you shake your head, voice rising, “What?! You have gotten to every place today after me. So how could I possibly be the stalker and not the stalkee?”
His head is shaking no already, before you even finish the question. But he waits till you’re finished and points at you. “Nope. I got to the park first. And I do this every Sunday, so maybe you’ve been quietly watching me and formulated this pla-“
“No, no, no,” your hands wave as you cut him off, laughing, “I do this every Sunday.”
He narrows his eyes this time, his smile contagious as he asks, “Why don’t I believe you?”
It’s here, as this man smiles at you, and you smile at him, and the sunset is perfect, that you wish for the music most of all. 
Because you shrug and somehow think to say, “Well, if I was stalking you, I’d probably know your name.”
He nods, his grin settling in a smaller, though still just as charismatic of a smile. “Fair,” he sticks out his hand and you shake it as he says, “Steve Harrington.”
“Nice to meet you Steve the stalker Harrington,” you reply, telling him your own name too. 
It’s here, on this patio sidewalk, his hand only just starting to slip out of yours, that you think you don’t need it, because you can almost hear it. The music that’s supposed to tell you how to feel, to tell you this isn’t real, this doesn’t happen to you - to real people. To remember it, cherish it, feel it.  
Because then he says your name and looks at the theater, then back at you, “If I were the stalker, I feel like I’d know if you were going to Casablanca alone, and if you were going alone, that there wasn’t anyone who’d be upset if I asked if I could sit next to you during it? Maybe walk you home afterwards?”
He rocks back on his heels, cheeks flushed a little pink, but a hopeful smile at the prospect of your answer to his very forward questions. 
It could be bravery, or maybe insanity, that has you playing along, “I think the only person that might have a problem with it, is this guy that’s been following me around all day, maybe you know him?” Steve smiles as you talk with your hands, then snap your fingers and point at him, “He actually looks a lot like you.”
But maybe it was because, though muffled from your bag, James Taylor’s voice decided in that pause between Steve's hopeful question and your 'what if' fueled leap of an answer, to return. The music and lyrics of Golden Moments unmistakable, and the message clear. 
You weren’t finishing this Sunday alone. 
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AN: Quite literally one of the most self indulgent things I’ve ever written. Literally, as just one example, the image in the header is of a theater in Minnesota. If you’ve followed BICFTF, that theater, is the very theater my parents were on their way to when their car slide on the ice and my dad protected my mom when they had been dating. I took part of my engagement photos in front of it. I saw all three Lord of the Rings there for my very first time watching (in one sitting!). Anyways, the point is - There’s a whole lot of ME in this, and while I mainly wrote it for myself, I really wanted to share it and this world I’ve come up with. I came up with this little AU idea while tipsy on peach margaritas and feeling quite sad. I wanna thank @palmtreesx3 and @curiositydooropened and the lovely anons who sent messages and indulged my need for comfort in a fictional man. It meant so much to me & made getting to another day of sun much easier 💛 . And I can’t quite ever thank @loveshotzz and @sweetsweetjellybean enough, their constant patience, encouragement, love and friendship - who they are, are at the core of my rhyme and reason.
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healer-pop · 8 months ago
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hii im here to add to ur ask night LOOL any personal ideas on how venture flirts? like what kind of stuff they say to get you going etc.
okok ok. bare with me but there is so much I want to get into here. there’s differences in Venture’s flirting style depending on a couple of things:
1.) your relationship to them
this is the biggest circumstance that changes most of their style, mainly because they are far too nervous to fuck up any possibility once they’ve gotten too attached, but if they just have a slight crush on you, it’ll be less obvious.
I’m talking about the difference between Venture knocking over everyone’s morning drink while trying to get you yours, stumbling over their words hopelessly, walking into a pit accidentally while talking to you, and just otherwise being a fool while head over heels in love with you, too scared to make a move or confession (especially if you’re a more reserved person!) because they appreciate your time and company more than any romantic motives they might have, even though it’s completely obvious to everyone not the two of you AND being such a goof ball you just have the absolute unbearable urge to kiss their flushed cheeks, even platonically, having inside jokes with you that make you laugh so hard your ribs hurt for days, always knowing your favorite of everything, bursting out dancing with them when some sort of goofy song starts on their playlist, and them inviting you to watch the stars with them.
they’re not mutually exclusive, one can edge into the other easily, but Venture sometimes has a problem catching up with their own emotions when they’re so focused on archeology first and everything else second. it tends to be the latter one first which progresses into the other one, but it can seriously go either way. but either way, they aren’t outright flirting with you because they just don’t seem to be that type *cough, cough* wORKAHOLIC. unless Tracer and D.Va are having a best pickup line competition, then you’ll see a bit more of their witty, smoother side. But again, it’s not serious, until…
you get into a relationship with them
this is where Venture absolutely thrives. and this isn’t a second section because this is dependent on what your status to them is. your partner flirts with you in so many different ways, it’s almost hard to keep track of. they are so loving that it’s seriously all encompassing. before I move on, I’ll just state that they are way more self-assured when your relationship status to them is clear and stable. at the beginning, they’ll be more mild, but as time goes on, they’ll get more openly affectionate to the point that it’s nearly impossible to tell you guys AREN’T together. it’s very ebb and flow, though, because Venture spends a ton of time in the field, and when you guys aren’t together, it tends to come over text/calls, which is obviously more private.
so going down the list:
Venture loves to use cheesy pick up lines on you!!! Humor is a major part of their personality and you’ll catch lines like “Are you a Shambali monk? Because you’re totally transcending my mind.” and “I would never bury our love in a coniferous forest, because the acidity of the soil would ruin any chance of preservation.” they don’t really care who’s around to hear as long as they’ve got you either giggling or hiding your face in embarrassment. definitely to the dismay of the other Wayfinders, lol. they’ll shout it across a field, down from a pit to hear their words of love echo back to you.
They will always carry your favorite snacks and drinks in their pack or pockets! Those cargo pants have huge pockets and Venture puts them to good use, by always having your favorites on hand, when you visit them at their excavation sites! It’s so sweet, and 100% done for your own happiness. They always manage to know just what you’re craving and have it nearby. It’s like a primal thing or something. Being able to always nourish your love.
PHYSICAL TOUCH!!!!!!! Venture is a super, duper touchy person when they are in a relationship with you. Not so much when it’s anyone else. Their compliments may always seem physical, but that’s because it’s their love language. Noticing how soft your hair looks, or how plush your lips are… it’s like a Freudian slip. They’re basically asking to kiss or pet you, whatever they mention at the time is on their mind. Later in the relationship, they’ll end up just doing what they want to do before it comes out, but hugging, kissing, or always having a hand on your waist is second nature to them. It’s also a huge turn on to them, when you reciprocate. Even brushing your hair through their hair has them pulling you off for a quick make-out session. They are completely shameless about your ruffled clothes and tangled hair. The hickies too. Those are like Venture’s personal touches on the masterpiece that is your body.
Finally, their texts and calls. when they aren’t by your side, they crave you. they crave your company and attention. expect flowery, overly emoji-ed, gushy texts, from them whenever they get a chance. prefers video calls so they can see your face. they blow up your phone at lunchtime and fall asleep with you on call.
WOW THIS GOT LONG LOL SORRY I AM SO PASSIONATE ABT MY CHEESY LOML
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sugugasm · 1 year ago
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#2 : SLUT CERTIFIED ! — eren yaeger
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꒱ ➛ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS : the first taste of sluttry.
˚◞♡ who ?? : eren yaeger x black fem! reader
˚◞♡ word count : girl…don’t even ask i lost track </3
˚◞♡ chapter warnings : minors DO NOT interact, mentions of female anatomy, fem! reader using she/her pronouns, somewhat bimbo reader ??? mentions of major asshole connie, mentions of player! connie ꒱ i’m sorry ꒱ , use of profanity, oral penetration, body worship, loss of virginity, mentions of reader crying, pet names such as [ mama, baby, angel, love, pretty girl ] detailed, slow-paced smut, a little bit of a cliffhanger bc i LIVE for drama. ˚◞♡ author’s note : we back we back we backkkk !!! hello and welcome to the second chapter :) BUT FIRSTTT !!!! THANK YOU FOR THE POSITIVITY YOUVE GIVEN ME FOR THIS SERIES I LUV U ALL <33 i know i’ve been very absent and i know y’all have been WAITING. i am actually so sorry, but my mental health was calling my name :/ BUT WE ARE DOING BETTER !!! last but not least, excuse any errors, you guys r the best and i hope u enjoy 🤍 reblogs and interactions are always loved and earns u a smooch
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eren stayed over that night. not out of fear of waking you, or to avoid alarming you with the sound of your door creaking open, but because he felt pitiful of himself. if he’d left, you’d know something was wrong. he’d rather be petty and silent than obvious and pissy. besides, if he would’ve left, he wouldn’t have been able to wake up to the smell of fresh eggs, grits, and french toast with a simple side of fruits to top it all off.
eren makes his way out of your guest bedroom, nose following the mouth watering scent of food that polluted the air in your home, “goodmorning, rennie,” he hears you announce, still stirring at a pot sitting on your kitchen stove. his eyes wander, looking at the two plates resting on the kitchen island, as well as the two seats that wait for you both to obtain them.
“morning.”
“someone’s grumpy,” you say, watching him untie the bun in his hair and shake it out as if he were a wet dog, “i made some breakfast…if you’re hungry. you don’t have to eat it..but, um..”
“do you have sugar?”
“what-“
“for the grits.”
you awkwardly laugh, a bit put off by his straightforward demeanor, but choosing not to look into it too much. after all, it was 6AM — a sunday too. you didn’t blame him for lacking a bit of a pep in his step.
“o-oh yeah. um, it’s in the pantry, at the top on the left.” eren’s mood was hard for you to abstruse. you couldn’t tell whether he was angry, sleepy, or just being plain old moody, but deep down you’d hoped it was anything other than the first.
“i thought you hated sugar on grits. last time i gave them to you, you said you would never eat my food again,” you jokingly refer, but he only shrugs like before.
“people change.”
you build the courage to start somewhat of a conversation. this was weird. it was like a stranger was just walking around your house. you could usually hear eren making noise before you in the mornings when he chose to stay the night ; showering early, blasting his playlist as loud as he can to wake you, having more of the zoomies than your hyper cat — but now, he just seemed so .. quiet. eerily quiet.
“so, what do you have planned for today?”
he shrugs, “don’t know.”
the answer was simple, but it seemed to have given you more of a worry than a relief, “well, it’s gonna’ be nice out today. i also saw a strawberry field i wanna’ see. ooh! okay so, we can get lunch, go pick the strawberries, and maybe get icecream afte –“
“i have some rules to add.”
rules? oh, rules. the rules you abruptly created out of fear after he’d made you cum with just the simple movement of his fingers, “okay, uh, great. what’d you wanna’ add?” you wait for him to answer, watching him practically inhale the food off of his plate that you’d just placed down only a few minutes ago.
“for starters, we aren’t a couple, so we aren’t doing couple shit,” he begins, and you immediately want him to retract that sentence. you didn’t know why hearing that gave you an intense pain in your heart, but you hated the feeling, “like holdin’ hands, goin’ on dates, etc.”
“but we – we always hold hands, ren.”
“yeah, but you’re with connie. i don’t think that’s appropriate now, do you?”
oh. using your own words against you. how mature of you, eren.
“no, no. you’re right. i um.. i guess i didn’t think about that one.” you couldn’t look at him. you were almost embarrassed to. not only had you been the reasoning for this tension, but you were the one who was behind the master plan. you were the one who asked him to do this. you were the one who blatantly said it was strictly educational.
you were the one who promised yourself you wouldn’t take it further than it needed to go.
eren was just playing the part.
“i’m gonna’ hold off on the nicknames outside of the bedroom too. don’t wanna’ make you uncomfortable so i should leave all that to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” your tongue runs across your lips, unsure exactly what to say. you had no reason to be upset, especially if you were trying to pursue a relationship with connie.
“heard me?” he asks, shoving the last bit of his food into his mouth.
“you’re being a dick.” his ears raise like a hound, a bit taken back by the authoritarian tone of your voice. eren sits and watches you begin to toss the used pots and pans in the sink, not bothering to wash them — which was nothing like you. you’re turned around, back facing him with your hands left to pick at your fingernails.
“how so?”
“you know, eren, i actually think you should get going. i have a lot of errands that i need to get done before our next session so..” eren clears his throat and doesn’t say much else. your words left a bad taste in your mouth and his — you feeling bad and him feeling worse. it wasn’t that you wanted him to leave. if anything, you wanted him to spend the whole day with you, but knowing that the simple physical tendencies were no longer present in your friendship would drive you crazy. you found comfort in one another — whether it was a touch of a hand or a pat on the back, there was nothing else in the world that could bring you the clarity your platonic love resinated.
but that was gone now.
“when you wanna’ start the next —“
“i’ll come over tonight after my last class. that way we can finish this and i’ll be out of your hair soon enough, like you want.” your demure smile said everything you needed to. eren could read you like a book. he’d obviously agitated you with his petty choice of words, but it didn’t make sense of why. you were the one who wanted rules to begin with, and as of right now, eren could already feel a lump beginning to swell in his throat, “alright then. just hit me when you need me,” he forces out, getting up to grab his things.
you don’t reply, you only watch him leave.
“love you.”
your silence was enough to make him head to the door quicker. he waits a moment by the exit, out of your sight, but sticking around to hear you say it back.
but you don’t.
in fact, you don’t say a single word, at least not until he leaves and is already inches away from your home, unable to hear the slight sorrow in your voice as you wipe away a small tear, “love you too, fuckin’ asshole ..”
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after eren’s departure, the house was more silent than it was when he was here. yeah, you technically kicked him out, but if you knew the heartache you’d get from it, you easily would’ve chosen the silently petty route just like he did. you were left to contemplate bout what you could’ve said and done differently, what you could’ve accomplished if you’d just been more patient with him. but then again — eren was cold to you this morning. he seemed to have let his emotions get in the pathway, causing him too to make choices he wouldn’t usually make.
and that’s why you felt the need to see connie. the connie who was the root of of the argument that ruined your monring, the connie who you’d grown so fond of. he was also the same the connie who had showed up to your home rather later than expected though. when you texted him a few hours prior to your class ending, he’d said he could be at your doorstep in ten, but ten turned to twenty, and twenty turned into an hour.
and soon, that hour became three.
you assumed he’d probably gotten caught up at work again ; one of the main enemies in your relationship besides eren. his boss seemed to always be holding him back longer, regardless if his shift was scheduled to end hours prior. it made no sense, but like he always said, ‘more money i make, the more i get to treat you like the princess you are’ — but anyway, you couldn’t exactly hate him for it.
how else would he be able to buy you those cute little pandora charms and pretty mini skirts?
you’re drifted from your thoughts as a notification illuminates your screen and you happily skip toward the front entrance of your home without even having to check to see who it is. connie — standing tall at your doorstep with a pretty bouquet of roses resting in his arm. the diamonds in his studded earrings gleaming in your gaze. his hair was buzzed a bit lower than it was the last time you saw him — now dyed with hearted patterns all around.
he looked good, as always.
“hi, pretty girl,” he greets you cheerfully as if he hadn’t just showed up almost three and a half hours late. you sit there with your arms folded, giving him that same glare you always do when he did these things.
“i know i’m late, baby. i’m sorry! y’know how it is. i just got caught up —“
“at work.” he gives you a sad smile, pinching your cheek and puckering his lips for you to give him a kiss. of course you give in, allowing his lips to press against yours in a quick peck ; which eventually leads to him backing you into through your door and shutting it behind him. his lips felt different — swollen almost, like he’d been kissing someone prior.
“new lipgloss, huh? i like the taste.”
before it could get too heated, your manicured hands find their way to his chest, stopping him before he could move any further, “heyhey, not so fast mr. ‘m still kinda mad at you y’know,” you say, running a finger down his shirt all the way to the hem.
connie kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes a bit, “here the fuck we go again,” he walks away before you can even begin to voice the remainder of your frustration.
“don’t be like that. you’re the one who can’t seem to say no to your manager. you don’t have to work overtime every fucking time she asks, y’know.”
here we go again indeed. he’d only gotten here no less than ten minutes ago, and you both could already find yourselves wanting to be apart, “i have bills to pay. working overtime isn’t gonna’ kill anybody.”
“well it’s killing me! i barely see you anymore, con,” your lips form a frown, connie shaking his head in response.
“and what, that’s all my fault? you’re always at school, or studying, or playin’ footsies with eren every weekend. i should be the one doing all the scolding.”
your eyes widen, tears threatening to spill from them as you swallow deeply, “get out.”
damn, yn. second man you’ve kicked out today in a row. look at you doing god’s work.
“what?”
“i said get out. i don’t wanna’ see you.” you don’t even dare to look his way, too angered and confused to do so. connie doesn’t even try to put up a fight. he immediately starts to grab his keys, almost as if he were waiting for those words to leave your mouth.
“y’know what, cool. talk to me when you’re done with your little tantrum. i don’t have the patience for this shit today.” those last few words spit fire straight into your chest. his words hurt, but seeing him walk out of that door and slamming it behind him without a care in the world hurt worse. the only thing playing in your mind was the painful scene over and over again. the tears that you had managed to suppress earlier had begun to resurface, your vision becoming blurry and the lump in your throat swelling harder than it ever has.
connie had never spoken to you like that before — the lack of giving a fuck very present in his tone of voice. you felt horrible, and confused, and almost regretful about letting him into your home to begin with. this wasn’t the man who was treating to dinner on a rooftop after your hard day all those months ago, neither was this the man who gifted you not one, but two promise rings for your birthday, or the man who you couldn’t stop bragging to your mother about.
this was someone else.
there was a tear in your heart, and fighting this alone would only cut it further. it’s funny, it’s like even when you’re angry at eren you can’t help but to think of him. you can’t help but to vision how badly he would’ve beat connie’s tail if he heard the same words you did.
so, you decide to shamefully push your pride to the side, heading to eren’s earlier than expected — and of course, when you arrive at his doorstep with watery eyes and a puffy nose, his disgruntled expression softens within seconds. you didn’t have to say much, or anything at all really. the faint sounds of sniffles coming from you were explanatory enough. no matter what had happened this morning, or what might’ve been said and done — he was still your best friend. at the end of the day, seeing you smile was the only thing that really kept him going in this life. right or wrong, argument or not, he was there, and he always would be.
anytime, any place.
“you wanna’ tell me what, happened? hm,” his soft voice rumbles, a hand burying your face into the warmth of his chest as you let the tears fall and stain eren’s t-shirt, “it was him wasn’t it?”
the two of you hadn’t yet moved inside. you still stand in the middle of your doorway, rocking from side to side as you let eren ramble on with his theories, “hm? what’d he do to you?”
you cut him off, shaking your head from side to side as you wipe your face, “c-connie and i .. w-we had an argument .. “ you hiccup, incapable of even getting the words out. he knew that. that’s why he continues to comfort you, even with the rush of hearing the devil’s name leave your lips and the amount of anger surfacing to the shore in his mind, your waterworks are the most important right now.
but trust, if he could leave and beat connie’s ass to a pulp he would, but to abandon you in this state would be criminal.
“what’s been goin’ on?”
“it’s a long story.”
“i got all night, love.”
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eren was right. he did in fact have all night, and you’d taken that opportunity to tell him everything — connie’s lack of attention, his inability to care, the amount of stupidity you’ve felt for the last few weeks ; he listens closely to every detail, only responding with minimal to no noise as connie clouds his consciousness. eren couldn’t fathom how someone as sweet, kind, and genuine as you could be put through such pain like this. all you’ve ever done is give and give and give, and knowing an insensitive bastard could fuck all of that up for you made his blood boil.
“i just don’t get it, y’know. i-i mean he was so sweet to me when i met him. always wanting to be around me, making the effort to see me — i just don’t know w-what changed,” you express, fingers swiping away the tears that stained your puffy cheeks and swollen doe eyes.
he expresses his concern with just a simple huff, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to finish your sentence. eren knew the answer. it was as easy as two plus two, but explaining it to someone as attached to connie as you would be almost impossible to persuade you to believe the truth — which was that he was just no good for you. eren wished — no, he dreamt you didn’t see his constructive criticism as jealousy, but then again, it was easy to portray it that way.
“he’s always been this way, yn — inconsiderate. he’s just gotten better at keeping it hidden longer.”
eren was expecting some sort of defense to come out of your mouth, but you don’t give it to him. instead, you obtain the somber expression of gloom casting over your usual sunny skied face.
as much as he wanted to tell you the blatant truth, eren quickly remembered that the power of words were truly bigger than man, “look, y’know how i feel about the guy, but if you really truly want my advice — from a friend’s perspective, i say you start lookin’ out for you. i know you like him n’ all, but you gotta’ start caring about your well being more. he’s putting you through hell right now and he doesn’t even have the decency to check on you.”
you nod because, well, it was true. eren was completely in the right. it was always about connie and moving on his time, but in reality, a relationship can’t ever even begin to work when both parties aren’t putting forth the effort. like the famous truth, ‘if he wanted to, he would’ but that was the thing with connie. there was no sense of want in this relationship unless it was coming from you. it was a hard pill to swallow, but these past five months with him had been purely carried by your energy and your energy alone.
if anything, it was a miracle he’d been around this long.
“i just don’t understand what i did wrong ..”
his blood boils all over again, a sheer amount of red on his flushed ears as eren can already feel himself becoming angry for the second time tonight. wrong? what you did wrong? how dare he — how dare he make you think so poorly about yourself? was connie insane — seriously, eren had to genuinely think. a woman having to second guess herself in general was horrid, but you? the woman he’s carefully watched sprout into a vivid, forever blooming flower since the small age of 9? the same woman who deserved the world in the palm of her hands?
nah, no way.
“don’t piss me off. for real, don’t.”
“m’ not trying to .. just think maybe i —“
“you really wanna’ sit in front of me and speak ill on yourself like you aren’t one of the most beautiful women i’ve ever laid my eyes on? and m’ not even talkin’ just physically — fuck that. m’ talkin’ spiritually, mentally — you don’t even realize your worth, mama.”
you let out a mix of a laugh and a scoff, “you really think that about me?” eren dramatically throws his head back, and places his hand on his chest, causing you to smile for the first time in a few hours.
“think? you serious? i know what i’m saying. he’d be a fuckin’ imbecile to lose you.” you don’t dare to stop his tangent, especially after hearing what’s to come out of his mouth next, “you’re sweet, you’re intelligent, charismatic, and prettier than you’ll ever begin to know. you’re ...” he stops himself, picking at the black polish on his fingernails, “perfect.”
you both look at one another, both of your eyes meeting at the same point as your breathing patterns become unsteady, the thickness of the air starting to become rather suffocating. eren’s words were delivered with such ease, and it wasn’t even in his usual, corny smooth talking manner. you could tell how much he’d regretted letting that sentence exit his brain though. his head was held downward, a scene of his chest rising and falling as the regret began to evolve into worry.
“you’re so sweet to me. ‘like you have a crush on me or somethin’.” your joke flies right over your head, because well, you knew damn well that would be one of the craziest things reality could throw at you. eren on the other hand, only lets out a forced laugh, playfully shoving your arm.
“mmch. whatever, mutherfucker.”
once your laugh diles down, there’s a comfortable silence in the room before you clear your throat and address the elephant in the room — the elephant that's been sitting quietly in the corner but had been aggressively knocking at the door in your mind over and over again for the last ten hours.
“eren..”
he turns to you again, those pretty eyes finding their focus in yours, “hm?”
“i’m sorry about this morning .. i should’nt have y’know .. kicked you out.”
“nah, it’s nothin.’ i know we just gotta’ get used to this whole thing. i should’ve just respected your rul —“
“but i kissed you back last night,” you interject, “i just…reacted badly, and i- i didn’t know how to respond to that. we’ve never been ...”
“that close before.” you’re eyes meet his once he finishes your sentence for you. eren’s were low, but still pleading as if he was waiting for the next few words that were scheduled to leave your mouth any moment now. yours were reddened — probably from the enormous amount of tears you’d shed throughout the time of connie’s departure, but also from the fact that you hadn’t blinked in a few seconds, not wanting to miss a single second of the sight of him in front of you.
“i’m still curious, y’know … i haven’t been the best student, but i’m still willing to learn some more.”
“i’ll do whatever you want me to do. just say the word.” his mouth was held open long enough to catch flies, and his steady breaths were morphing into a soft hyperventilation. you don’t say a word. neither does he. you both just send each other that look — the same look that was shared when he was on his knees devouring you not too long ago.
you take usage in his words, “i … i want you to kiss me, eren.” you’re scared to move. not only because of the amount of anxiety running through your body right now, but from eren’s physical reaction. he looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“but last night you said –“
“i know what i said.”
he tilts his head, eyes not leaving your lips as the rush of kissing them begins to come back to him. he missed it. he missed it so much, and god, what he would give to feel them again, “lemme’ hear you again.”
“i-i want you to kiss me,” you repeat, and you take notice of the look on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, nose almost as close to yours as it was the night before, “please kiss me, eren.”
“again,” he instructs, and you do. you keep repeating those words until his nose is brushing against yours, along with your foreheads pressed against one another’s — both too scared to find yourselves as desperate for each other as you were last night. eren hears your whispers, the sound of your sweet voice begging him to kiss you making his heart feel all the more swollen.
“can i?”
instead of answering his question with a sentence, you answer it with the thing you’d been wishing to do for the past twenty four hours — you kiss him, and you kiss him gently. your lips felt like dainty feathers tickling his own as your hands found their way to either side of his face. eren doesn’t question you, because he too was feeling the sparks flying over his head just like the first time. he still had his arms resting on the back of the couch, not yet touching you in fear of crossing the line — although, there were about to be many lines crossed tonight, that was only one many that he needed to be worrying about.
you want to feel him, you want him to feel you, and you start to whimper when you notice him pull away for a split second, but you go quiet when he pulls you into his lap by your waist. you fit so perfectly in his grasp, his hands firmly gripping your love handles while you try your best not to hunch your body against his.
but that was becoming impossible.
his cock was right underneath you, hard and clothed — his deep denim jeans poking at your ass as you sit. you hadn’t yet resumed kissing, but this was far more enjoyable. eren’s hands rest on your thighs and the moment he feels you drag your clothed cunt along his lap, he groans — loudly, too.
the shorts you had on were thin enough for eren to feel your folds rubbing on him, and your missing underwear underneath didn’t do him any justice. he was trying hard – so fucking hard not to completely forget that he needed to take his time with you. there was only one thing stopping eren from pulling his dick out and fucking up into you like his life depended on it, and that was the fact that you were new to all of this.
the same realizations from before boggle his mind again, “please tell me what you want from me, yn. you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy right now.” ashamed, eren shuts his eyes at the sound of his own desperation, yet you were equally as desperate as he was. both of you were fighting the urge from tearing one another apart – your reasoning being the fear of feeling those butterflies tumble around in your tummy again. it was wrong. you weren’t supposed to get those around him. he was just eren – your longtime, bittersweet, lovable bestfriend. you shouldn’t have wanted him in this way.
but you did, and you still do. and there was nothing in sight that could change that.
“i want you inside me..”
that’s when you felt a thump underneath you. you lightly gasp, surprised at the feeling but also aroused. something kicks inside of you, and you kiss him — yet again. eren almost immediately gives in this time, refusing to feed into his hesitation as previous. the kiss is messy and the motion is quick, but your hips – oh those hips, were moving slowly.
“you have no clue what you do to me.”
you nip at his lips again, “show me. what do i do, eren?” you keep winding your hips as you continue to taunt him with your lust filled eyes. your back arches and your globes poke out just a bit, the middle of your shorts pushing against your clit, “i can feel you. you’re so hard.. i-is all of that from me?”
that last line most definitely was your confidence talking, and although those jitters were still present, the power of your body taking over you.
“hold on to me.”
eren abruptly starts to rise up, and with you in his arms, he carries you down the corridor to his bedroom, which is on the right. as soon as you proceed in, you notice the distinct smell of his musk and a tiny candle burning in the corner of his bookshelf. your back touches his black, satin sheets as he lays you on the bed, making you shudder due to their chilly temperature.
eren continues to place small kisses all over your legs. you hadn’t yet seen his face since he laid you down, given how eager he was for his lips to be on your skin again, he was practically swimming in your aura, “you are so beautiful …” he mumbles, kissing your calf and up to your ankle. eren then gathers both of your legs, pulling you forward enough to where your ass was hanging halfway off of the mattress as your upper half lays prettily before him.
there he is, on his knees for you yet again.
“i can’t believe it get to touch you like this,” you close your eyes feeling his lips press against the pudge just above your pussy, too easily flustered to even dare look at him, “in all of your glory … bare just for me to see.” his lashes bat in a daze, a breathy laugh leaving his lips when he sees your hips squirm under his contact. you were so worked up, such an easy button to push — but time, time is what this would take.
“e-eren, you’re teasing …”
“am i? or are you too nervous to tell me what you want so much that you’re willin’ to sit there and let me frustrate you like this?” his pixelated eyes hold a menacing glare with yours, but you’re too busy trying to fix your gaze upon anything other than him. the way he was taunting you during your first time was sickening, stimulatingly sickening.
“i want you …”
“what was that?”
“ ‘want you eren, fuck! just do something already!”
eren releases a chuckle and pats your thigh twice, “that’s my girl.” after he says this he wastes no more time diving in. eren starts off with a wife tongue lick to your cunt, beginning at your ass, then slowly licking his way up to your clit before wrapping both lips around the swollen area. he had yet to tie his hair back, so to your advantage, your hands run through his coffee locks. you pull and scratch, making him grumble against you with pleasure.
you hate to admit that you missed the glee you got from feeling him lick you. but something so wrong felt so fucking right. it didn’t help that eren was practically a god when it came to eating pussy. he was treating you as if you weren’t still new to the feeling, but you loved it. you craved it. you needed it.
“t-that feels so fuckin’ g-good, ren- ohh!” your hips move in sync with his mouth, rubbing your cunt against his face as he follows your path, “waitwait – oh fuck!” you’re losing it, and you’re starting to lose your patience along with that sanity. he was slurping, kissing, licking and penetrating your pussy with his tongue and he had no remorse while doing so.
“awe, baby, you’re so wet … all that from me?” he mocks your previous words with a smirk, and that’s when eren slips a finger in without warning, and to be honest, there was no need to. if anything, you needed to be warning him for the messy orgasm you were tiptoeing around, “you get so tight when i use my hands, don’t you? so cute .. think you’re bout’ to cum for me already.”
“yesss! yes, i wan’ cum. i wanna’ cu-f-fuck,” his fingers tickle your gummy walls along with the impact from the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit — creating the perfect combination for nothing but pure bliss, “don’t make me beg for it, angel. just let go for me. give me all of it ..” his encouragement was doing its damn thing — the knot in your belly starting to untie itself on eren’s behalf. your body begins to convulse, jolting around and twisting all the which of ways he hoped it would.
“b-baby .. eren … i’m fucking c-cummingugh – oh!” eren quickly intertwined his hand in yours as you squeeze his knuckles for support through your life changing orgasm. you were too busy making the flesh on his hand turn pale from how hard you were holding on to notice the pet name that casually came out of you.
“yeah .. yeah, let it go just like that ...”
as he says this, you start to panic when you feel the certain pressure of your bladder being full. his finger is still working your hole, not pulling away for anything or anyone — not even you. eren sees your small hands trying to pry his own away, but he simply stops you by restraining the same hand pushing him, “r-ren, i don’t- i don’t know what’s — please, oh my ..” you babble.
“i know, baby. i know.” he holds eye contact with you, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his fingers yet again. that’s when he moves faster, jabbing his finger in and smoothly adding another to completely rupture you. his hand was cramping, but he could take that on any day if it meant he’d be able to see you fall apart, “you’re there. you’re right there, you feel that?”
eren’s question not only earns a loud whine from you, but it finishes you off completely. so much so that you couldn’t even pronounce a single word. the only thing you could begin to make out was his name, and even then, it was just hoarse whines and sappy gibberish. you don’t see it, but he does. he sees it all — the spurts of your cum covering his hand, the way your chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath, your eyes looking into the back of your skull with your lips parted softly — you were fucking breathtaking.
“good fuckin’ girl,” eren huffs, dragging his fingers from out of your walls. as soon as he does, he gently pets your pussy, soothing the sore area with his hand as he uses the weight of one elbow to lean over and place kisses onto your temple. your body is still coming down from its peak, and your vision was still foggy — but you still needed him. you still craved his touch like you had a sweet tooth.
“you okay? didn’t hurt you did i?”
“n-no. more, ren, i just wan’ more …” your pleading eyes search for his lips, and once you find them, you inch closer by default. eren seals it for you, pressing his plumped ones onto your own. you feel the same fingers that were inside you creep up to your chin, then lips — trails of your wet essence lingering on your skin, “are you sure, yn?”
you bite your lower lip and nod slowly, running your hand up and down his bare chest, “ ‘m sure .. please — i wanna’ feel you.” there’s one more peck shared before he gets up. rising to his 6’4 frame, hovering over your resting body as his hands scramble to remove his belt. one loop after another, your heart rate induces, seeing the v-line that threatened to spill from his pants as he finally reaches the buttons on those suffocating jeans and you’re forced to finally take in his physique while you wait.
you knew eren was built. he always had been, but ever since he’d taken on the job as a mechanic, you could see him gradually grow stronger over time. all of that heavy lifting and damn near bending over backwards to fix outdated and damaged vehicles good as new was a tough job, but he made it look so easy. it wasn’t until now that you could actually get a good look at him. he’d abandoned that coltish, leaned look back in highschool, now carrying the weight of broad shoulders and a barrel chested front. you couldn’t help but to stare, especially with him having abs sharp enough to be a blade.
“stop eye-fuckin’ me. you’re making me nervous,” eren shyly grins as he continues to strip off his clothes. what you weren't anticipating was the sizable cock that was about to emerge from his black hannes boxers in a matter of seconds. you watch as eren’s thumbs gently pull the cloth of the waistband over the broad girth that sits inside of his underwear. when he’s finally freed, you can hear him lightly hiss, and his dick practically springs out like a door hinge against a wall. it was thick, inches galore, and hard as fuck by the looks of it. your eyes follow the blueish greenish veins petruding from the base of him all the way up to the rosey, strained tip. it looked so soft at the touch, so pent up, so … edible.
you watch as he moves over to his nightstand, snagging one of the condoms from it and ripping it open with his teeth. as soon as you see him lower his hands to his cock, you stop him, “can- can i put it on?” he pauses his movements, a bit taken back by your question but not exactly opposed to it — the thought of your soft hands coming into contact with his dick was a vision he’d give anything to see.
“yes-yeah, go for it,” he nods, handing it off, stepping closer into your vicinity to make it easier for you, “do you know how to put it o – aw .. f-fuck waitwaitwait -“ eren didn’t need to finish his sentence, because once your cold fingers wrapped around his base he was in heaven. your grasp was so light, but the feeling of your hand on him felt so heavy. it was taking everything he had not to cum from the act of your touch alone.
you, on the other hand, were in awe, taking the rubber in one hand, holding his frustrated dick in the other while you ease the material around his shape. eren let’s go of a small groan, throwing his head back as his belly pokes forward and back in at the pace of his breathing.
you were amazed.
“oh my god ..”
so amazed that you didn’t mean to say that aloud, “what? what’s wrong?”
“nothing .. you’re just … big.”
he shyly, and nervously laughs, “what, don’t think it’ll fit?” if you were speaking by just the looks of it — no, it didn’t look like it’d fit. you were a virgin for crying out loud, that thing looked like a fucking weapon.
“hmm, m’ a brave girl i’ll be fine. i promise. i would tell you if i wasn’t,” you ease. eren nods, looking down at you as you blink your pretty falsies up at him with a smile on your face, “now hurry before i dry out.”
he shakes his head and laughs at your attempt at humoring the mood, but that laugh fades once you spread your legs for him again. eren looks down at you, looking at your sprawled out figure in awe. you still had your shirt on. no bra, so simple to see your hardened nipples through your baby pink tee. you looked so pretty, so needy, and so ready to take him like this wasn’t your first time around.
“i know you’re excited, but please, yn, tell me if i’m making you uncomfortable or if m’ hurtin you. i don’t care if it’s the smallest touch, please. tell. me.”
“mkay.”
“yn, for real. if you aren’t comfortable, punch me or pinch me or someth —“ ”
the amount of concern in his tone humors you, giggling a bit as you say, “i know, eren. i said okay,” he gives you his eyes once more before beginning to climb on top of you, your thigh being skimmed by the tip of his cock as he places both of his arms on either side of your head. he’s so close now. not on his knees, or beside you, or somewhere in front of you — no, he was right here. face to face so much so that his shaky breaths trickle your nose as he tries his best to keep his breathing steady.
eren balances back on his knees as he grabs ahold of his cock, tugging at it a little so that precum coats his tip and fingers as lubricant. you were already wet, but he needed to make this somewhat easy — he had to, for your sake and his. hurting you just wasn’t something he had on his agenda. so he takes the extra mile to make sure — a glob of saliva falling from his mouth and onto his condom covered base as he strokes it.
“f-fuck …” he moans, swallowing as his thumb runs over the pumping vein just before his tip, and once he’s done prepping himself, he sits his cock directly onto your belly — the tip of it stopping just at your shimmery-pierced bellybutton. he shakes his head from side to side, gassed at the knowledge of knowing how deep he’d be inside of you, “ima’ slide it in, okay?”
you nod at his words, and when you do, you wrap your arms around his neck, “deep breaths. take deep breaths for me.” you hear him, and you do what he tells you, inhaling and exhaling as you feel eren’s cock sit right at your folds, “i’ll give you just the tip for right now, okay ..” a whine gets caught in your throat as he rubs himself in between them, your wetness making a pretty sound that fills his ears with lust. he even taps it on the surface a little bit, a small ‘pat pat’ — testing the waters, seeing just how arroused you’d gotten from him and only him.
“m’ gonna take care of you, i promise.”
“you always do, ren.”
he kisses your temple, then your cheek and nose, “you ready?”
your chest rises and falls with one last deep breath, your head falling back onto the pillow behind you, “ready.”
eren hears your consent and it slowly begins — the first attempt at easing himself past that first barrier with as much care as he could. your body flinches and you whince, and almost immediately eren starts to remove himself from your entrance, but you stop him, “ ‘m okay, ren, ‘m okay. just feels so ..”
“different?”
“yeah .. d-different,” he looks at you for approval again and you give it to him, your eyes dropping down to look in between your legs as you see that you still have so much more to go. this was just the tip, and even then, it still wasn’t all the way in. how difficult would it be to take the full thing? no matter how soft his strokes were or how painless he could try and make the process be, eren was huge — and with a curve too. you’d be lucky if you got out of this without a limp tomorrow morning.
“we can take it slow, okay? don’t strain yourself, just take me slow … ” when his palm touches the side of your face, his thumb brushing your bottom lip, you almost immediately feel a tiny bit of relief. you nod and you sense him once more, his tip piercing your skin and leaving a sting in its wake. it was a painful stretch, no doubt about it. out of every account you've heard of losing your virginity, you can infer that after this point, everything really just depended on that individual person. you’d heard mixed opinions, and you’d always assumed the worst. but honestly, in this moment, you could only come to the conclusion that it all depended on the sensual nature of you and your partner’s relationship.
yes, you were in pain, but you were so drawn to eren that you wanted to push through it. “a-aah- oh my— fuck!” your eyes are shut so tightly that you start to see white spots in the inside of your eyelids. you feel eren’s hand reach down to your clit, trying to steer the uncomfortable stretch away from you by rubbing small, kind circles repeatedly as you huff and let out strangled whines.
“you okay? you wan’ me to stop?”
you shake your head, “nonono — just .. h-hurts ren.” he feels your nails clawing at his forearms. you, on the other hand, not even realizing your fingers were leaving deep crescent marks on his flesh. he didn’t mind it though, not at all. in fact —
“bite me. scratch me — do whatever you need to do, baby ..” eren’s forehead was already beginning to perspire as he spoke, and his hips were carefully advancing to slowly deliver you every inch — although, he was rather heartbroken to witness your reactions, “i just need you to feel good.” your pain was almost too much for him, almost enough to make him want to call this whole thing off, but on your word, he continues. he continues to watch your every move as your eyes sit on the verge of watering whilst his cock softly splits you in half. you heed his advise, lifting your neck a little for you to bite down on his shoulder and leave marks in your wake.
he continues to guide himself in while his palm rests on the back of your head, pulling you in closer into his neck as he whispers into your ear, “just a little more to go, my love. you’re almost – shit – there.”
“r-ren … nnn – f-fuck!”
“i know, sweet girl. i know.”
he kisses you to divert your attention away while the stray tears on your face fall to your lips, the tang of salt hitting both of your taste buds. you push through the pain and let him give you a little bit more. before you bottle up your next set of cries — he’s fully in, and when he is, you can see the small bulge in your belly from his cock when you look down. eren patiently allows himself to sit deeply in your warmth, letting your whimpers simmer down as you become more and more used to the full feeling in your tummy, “there you go. nice n’ slow, let it sink in just l-like that …” your mouth is held open, and the only sounds that can be heard from you were small gasps of relief from finally getting the hard part over with.
“well would you look at that? you did it, s-see?” he shudders, mainly speaking to you, but also patting himself on the back for not cumming within the first ten seconds of being inside you.
“i-i did, didn’t i?” your hand hovers over the spot on your stomach, rubbing the area where you feel him most. he watches you closely, he too, stunned from reality hitting him right in the chest like a wrecking ball, “s-shit, eren … ‘s so deep.”
eren jeager was inside you.
and eren jaeger was about to fuck the shit out of you.
“does everything feel okay? didn’t hurt you too much did i?” you shake your head, taking in a deep breath as you close your eyes, “you still with me, yn?”
“yesyes, ‘m here.” eren takes this as an opportunity to wipe your tears with his thumbs, sending a quick kiss to your lips while smiling. you’d gotten through the hard part, and now? now it was time for the highly anticipated fun, “y-you can start moving now …” eren hears your voice softly say. he gives you that look you knew rather well — that look of ‘are you sure’ knowing damn well you were more sure than you’ve ever been about anything before. you gladly give it to him, cheekily grinning a bit as you nod your head up and down.
eren gradually sits up on his knees, palming the backs of your thighs softly as he peers down at your figure under him, still snugged comfortably inside of you. he was plainly freaking out and, to put it mildly, astonished. when his eyes met yours, that’s when the air felt heavier than it already was, along with the same feeling of fluttering butterflies in his tummy dancing along to the beat of his racing heart.
he begins to move in the direction and pace you want, slowly pulling his cock in and out of you, scared of hurting you still even after hearing you repeat ‘im okay’ to him over and over again. you attentively observe his furrowed eyebrows and bitten lip, and the sight causes your walls to swell and pulse. the ache that had almost felt intolerable a few minutes ago had begun to eventually subside, leaving you simply with a tickling sensation now.
“god .. yn - fuck..” he pants, steadily swinging his pelvis straight into the back of your thighs as his balls slap lightly against your ass, “pussy’s s-so tight, mama ..” he wasn’t lying at all. in fact, you were squeezing him so tightly that he had to use enough force to pull himself out of you. he hisses, feeling the wind get knocked out of his chest by just looking at how well you were doing. he was so proud of you, filled with so much elation while being inside of you that it almost felt like a dream he would’ve never thought would come to life.
“ ‘ssss .. it feels — eren … please —”
“feels like what, hm? tell me all about it ..” the tone of eren’s voice is soft enough to soothe you some more, but deep enough to bring you to unintentionally clench around him. your warm walls smothering his cock, and your eyes watching him move in and out of you as your chest heaves.
“feel s’ full,” you babble and he hissed out a laugh. that’s when you spread your legs wider, feeling comfortable enough to get into the hang of it. although you were new to this, you found yourself suddenly wanting more.
“mhm, pussy’s eatin’ my fuckin’ dick up, isn’t she? you feel so goddamn good …” eren keeps his steady pace, delivering deep, slow, strokes to your cunt before sitting up to lightly massage your calves and feet. he keeps eye contact with you, and even though yours refuse to keep their focus on his, he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t stop losing himself in both you and your battered pussy, squeaking with every dirty line leaving his lips. your arms reach out to wrap themselves around his neck, and he easily picks up on your gesture — now hovering directly on top of you, balancing himself on one forearm while his opposite hand grips at the headboard above you — minimizing the weight of his body on yours.
“sh-shit — ouuu, eren!”
for a moment, there’s only silence in the room. besides your minimal breathing and eren’s small groans that he failed to suppress were the only sounds that could be heard through an echo. both of you bask in one another’s presence while you let the tranquility of the moment steer you of to sea. “h-harder, ren .. please, harder,” you lightly tap his shoulder with your fingers to gather his attention, eyes batting rapidly as you try to keep consciousness from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.
“harder? baby, you look like you can barely keep your eyes open,” he laughs attentively, looking down at the droplets of sweat beginning to fall down the sides of your face. yeah, he was right, you could barely open your eyes, but you had enough strength to flutter them and give him an annoyed, yet needy, glance.
a soft sigh escapes his lips and that’s when he seizes your request, pushing his cock further into you — as deep as it could go and then right back out again, a suckle being left behind. you whine — no, you scream, “oouh - fuck, eren, just like t-that,” almost loud enough to send a concerned expression to eren’s face, but when you claw at his biceps he soon realizes it was a scream of pure ecstasy.
“ah, shit. yeahyeahyeah, talk to me, baby. you’re takin’ it so fucking good ..” his tone is taunting and well past just casual dirty talk. he was digging deep, verbally and physically, saying shit just to bring a reaction out of you — curious of what he could say and do to make you squirm and sniffle around him, “greedy lil’ pussy. takin’ me in so easily on her first run — you’re bein’ so good to me, princess.”
“ren — oh my god … r-right there, right there, right there — shit, eren!” his words had gone right over your head. too lost in the the way he dips his hips deep into your core to even dare to speak anything more than a string of moans. your lips form a pout, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you suddenly feel eren’s tip poking right at your g-spot — which, he proudly didn’t take very long to discover. you didn’t know it yet, but the constant pressure against your womb would be building up soon — creating a rather diabolical sensation for both your mind and body all in one.
“where? right here?” the question is followed by a strong, but still conscious thrust. slow, yet powerful. steady, but mighty — eren now driving himself into you right where you wanted him, “awe, baby, did i find your spot? like when my dick kisses you right here, don’t you?” you can’t speak, nor can you begin to fathom why on earth eren was making you feel so lightheaded. disregarding the pleasure and the present circumstances, you felt alive. you felt like you couldn’t get this amount of euphoria from anything or anyone.
it wasn’t just the movement of his hips, or the nasty serenading words leaving his mouth, or even those angelic eyes that held an untold story — no no, it was the amount of emotion he brought you. the amount of love he’s shown you. the way he held you with such grace and tenderness like you were easy to shatter. it was all too surreal. the feeling, the gestures, the warmth — everything .. he was everything.
“faster! faster, please eren — nnnn y- you’re so deep ..” you clench around him, your pussy sucking him in more and more as he continues to drive you into shambles. your eyes travel down, focusing on the way he had to pull in and out of you with more force than needed simply because of how hard you were squeezing him. with each passing thrust, you could see his tip poking at your tummy over and over, forming a bulge right below your belly button.
“aah, shhhit, gonna’ make me fuckin’ cum, b-baby.” he nervously snickers, trying to hold on as much as a could, and god was it hard. eren could almost find himself becoming overwhelmed. there were too many things to focus on — between your expressions, lustrous eyes, and small grunts — he could cum right then as he spoke.
“o-oh, so close .. c-close, m’ so close rennie .. please let m-me cum with you ..”
you have a siren voice, one of command and alluring undertones like you were singing a symphony to pull anyone into a trance — and that’s exactly what you did. you words had much power, and eren suddenly feels a knot untying in his belly, the same knot as you. you both huff and puff, whispering small praises to one another like you’ve been in love for ages now.
your hands reach the sides of his face, carefully pulling him in closer for a kiss. you feel him meet you half way, closing the space between you both by kissing you like you were an an antidote he so desperately needed. he tugs on your bottom lip softly, closing his eyes and melting into you as he tries his hardest to bring you both to the finish line.
“c’mon, baby, c’mon. cum with me — cum all over this dick,” eren unconsciously fastens his hips, sending strong, and now sloppy, thrusts to you. you feel him deep, deep in your stomach. so much that you feel the urge to push against his toned tummy due to the overwhelming power he had over your body, “nah, don’t run. t-take it just how you were. i know you wanna’ let it go ..”
“eren .. i’m cumming, baby … i’m cumming — oh god …” your eyes slam shut and your swollen clit is caught by eren’s thumb as he rubs circles over the agitated flesh. the wet squelching sound of your cunt was almost loud enough to drown out your moans as you find yourself shakily wetting up eren’s dick, “renrenren, wai — unngh!” your legs stutter closed and he opens them right back up, only this time, grabbing onto your hips and fucking you at an angle to carry you all the way to the end.
you push your head back deep into the plushed pillow underneath your neck, bawling your fists as the commotion in your stomach is finally fulfilled. there are tears in your eyes, followed by desire and pleasure — not to mention the creamy noise of your pussy sucking in eren’s dick with no problem, “y-yyes .. yesyesyes — erennn!”
he’s quiet — or rather focused, concentrating on your trembling figure while feeling his own orgasm begin to pool over rapidly, “fuckin’ christ,” he groans hoarsely, his hips bucking as he’s cumming deep into the condom that would soon threaten to burst from the amount of essence he would let go. eren’s body nearly smothers your own as he loses his balance, hugging you close as he finishes. he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, drool pooping from his mouth and onto your skin as he tries his best not to go limp.
his thrusts are slow to none, body shaking from the overstimulation. you press your chest against his, your nipples still stoned from earlier while you embrace him through his climax. you’re breathing hard, and so is he — lost in one another’s eyes as a million thoughts begin to crowd around you both. eren studies your ancy hips that still wiggled for more as he kisses your collarbone, down your chest and all around your stomach. he’s still inside of you, snugged deep along your walls with his tip puckering against your cervix. you felt sore, yet still so needy even after cumming all over both his dick, and his fresh sheets beneath you.
“jesus .. yn that was —“
“so fucking good.”
eren nods, his wet lips placing kisses on both of your cheeks while his calloused hands cradle your head, “yes, so fuckin’ good — you were .. so fuckin’ good,” he holds you close as he pulls himself out, grunting into your ear as your pussy still clenches down onto him without much effort. once he’s out, woe and behold, he slides off his messy condom and tosses it into the trash can near you both. before you knew it, eren was heading straight toward the bathroom, with you in his arms — bridal style. he carries you straight to the tub, ushering you to sit on the toilet and pee right before deciding to run a mixture of warm and semi cool temperatured water.
“i know how i can be .. was i too rough? y’know .. besides the beginning?” there’s a puppy dog look in his eyes when he asks this. your eyes trace the small tattoos on his fingers, those same fingers grazing the flesh on your inner thighs as eren wipes away the made you’d both made with a hot cloth first. he looked so sleepy — and how couldn’t he be given the amount of effort he’d put into making you feel the best that you possibly could. he cared so much, almost too much — so gentle and patient, light with every touch and phrase.
“don’t think too much, you were everything i could ever ask for ..”
scooping you up again, he places you in the bath that’d been calling your name since he made you finish the first time tonight. he shrugs and shakes his head as a smile creeps up on his lips, “psh, you’re just talkin’ ..”
“nono, seriously. thank you for being so sweet about .. all of this,” eren attentively pays close attention to your words, his hands now caressing your legs and french-tip painted toes as he sits next to the tub, watching your lips move to the speed of your words — slow and endearing. he studies the moister of them, wishing to take them into his mouth yet again, “you’ve been so kind to me — and patient, i feel like i-i can’t thank you enough with words.”
he sits for a moment, letting you get used the to the water, but obviously taken aback by your words. he was already trying to detach himself from the emotions he could feel bubbling in his chest the minute he pulled out, but you were just making it so fucking hard. you were in his house, in his bathtub, and would soon be wearing his clothes to sleep for the night — and all eren could think about was how he’d give up anything to make this a regular occurrence. he liked taking care of you. he liked being around you. he liked feeling you and letting you feel every inch of him — but most importantly, and probably most controversially, he liked you.
eren liked you, a lot.
but to say that sentence aloud would be a nightmare. professing his feelings in the heat of a moment like this could lead him right back to where you both were earlier this morning ; awkward, angry, confused — it was too much. if keeping silent meant keeping the peace, then that’s exactly what he’d do.
“hey hey, i don’t need ‘thank you’s’, yn. just doin’ you a favor remember? if anything i should be thankful you trusted me enough .. y’know, with all this. i know it might not have been your ideal first time but …”
it’s quiet now, but you smile, “it was perfect, eren. it was nothing less than perfect.”
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the clock reads 1AM and you’ve fallen asleep in eren’s arms yet again for the second night in a row, snuggled into his chest as the sound of his beating heart soothes you like a soothing lullaby. he listens to the sound of your light snores while inhaling the mouth watering scent of the vanilla body wash he’d used on you, dozing off a bit as he grows excitedly anxious from the thought of you being the first person he would be seeing in the morning.
there you were ; laying on his bed, under his sheets, in his arms. you were freshly bathed, courtesy to eren splashing you with water and bubbles during the two hour long bath he’d given you — most of that time spent talking about any and everything with one another rather than cleaning you up, but he didn’t mind it one bit.
there was moment where he thought he could really get used to this — feeling your body fall into in his warmth so effortlessly while whispering sweet melodies into your ear. he felt like there was nothing on planet earth that could ruin this moment.
well, that was until his phone rattled against his nightstand, buzzing with three rounds of texts and two missed calls from no other than the villain himself — connie.
connie fucking springer.
the first text could be traced back to when you’d first arrived at eren’s doorstep.
bald man 9:52PM
yo i gotta talk to you about some shit.
the second, you were too busy moaning out in pleasure for eren to even think about reaching for his damn phone.
bald man 11:01PM
are u alive? i know i fucked up at poker but damn bro
bald man 1:15AM
i know ur awake fucker. come outside your place im already parked. hurry up before i have to walk my ass up there and drag you out my damn self.
eren’s eyes flicker to the time on his phone, at the text, then back at you again, the time reading 1:20AM.
bald man 1:20AM
i know she’s in there. i saw her car parked a few spots over open your fuckin door.
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venture4treasure · 8 months ago
Text
“And if you leave me. Rest assured, it would kill me.”
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Words: 1881
Premise: Yandere!Venture kills someone and you catch them. You respond in an atypical way. 
Warnings: Minor character death, Blood, Unhealthy relationship, Irresponsible use of prescription medication, Mental breakdown, Obsession 
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��Venture~”, your voice sing-songs from outside your shared home. 
Venture freezes at the sound of your voice, you weren’t supposed to be back home tonight. They glance at the blood drying on the floor, mind racing on how to keep you from seeing it. 
You’re too quick to open the door, ecstatic about getting out of work early despite your scheduled overnight shift. The sight in front of you makes you freeze. Your kitchen floor has splatters of blood and streaks from where you can only assume a corpse was dragged. Your mind immediately jumps to the worst and you tighten your grip around the handle of the door.
“Venture?” You call out hesitantly, “if this is a joke, it’s sick and I mean that in a bad way”, you add when there’s no answer. 
After several beats of silence, you pull out your phone, prepare to leave and call the police. Your attempt is interrupted when the door is forcefully torn from your grip and slammed shut behind you. You feel yourself shoved against the door. You shut your eyes and duck your head from the impact. Your hands are pinned above you and your phone is pulled away. 
You anticipate something, anything to happen to you, but when nothing happens. You hesitantly open your eyes and look up. And you don’t know what feels worse, opening your door to a crime scene or seeing who the perpetrator is. 
“Sloan…” you manage to choke out. 
So many questions race in your mind – why did you, who did you… But the desperation and fright in their eyes sobers you. In your forced rationality, you observe that their hand is warm on your wrists, their grip means no harm. 
“I-”
You cut them off by pushing them away, they stumble a couple of steps back, looking at you with wide eyes. 
“Don’t say anything. We’re cleaning this up. Right now. Go get some hydrogen peroxide and gloves. And change into something you can throw away,” you force the words out, “do not say anything that makes me any more complicit”. 
Venture is stunned at your reaction. They’re slow to follow your instructions, prompting you to ask more, “no bleach, that’ll only make things messier. We’ll refloor all of this tomorrow anyway. Do you have animal blood?”  
They shake their head, and you shoo them off to get what you told them to as you step around the kitchen to assess what needs to be done. You’re careful to avoid making the mess worse by tracking any more blood around. The mess is bad, it is a lot of blood, and it makes you think someone must've bled out. Part of you wonders if any of it is Venture’s, you hope not. You shake yourself, you don’t want to dwell on the thoughts of why it’s so bad. Your only task at hand is to clean it up, you remind yourself. 
After double-checking you won’t trail any mess around the house, you take your own advice and go to get changed into some clothes you won’t miss. You also force yourself to take two extra pills for your anxiety – double your prescription – to keep yourself grounded. 
You meet Venture in the kitchen again and help set up several trash bags. You instruct them to help you soak up the bulk of the blood in towels and throw it away. When it’s done, you show them how to clean up the rest of the blood and explain to them how hydrogen peroxide will destroy the traceable genetic material. You try to explain everything you can if only to fill the silence and to keep your mind busy. When the reality sets in a little more, you feel sick talking – you were quite literally talking about how to get away with murder. You put on a playlist to help with the silence instead.
Venture doesn’t say anything when you talk. And definitely doesn’t say anything when you stop. They’ve never seen you act like this, they never would have thought this would be a possible outcome. They’re scared anything they say will make you react poorly, so they choose to maintain the current equilibrium you’ve set. 
Eventually, when everything looks clean and normal you finally give the okay to take a break. 
“You should shower and sleep,” you say, going through the motions of brewing some instant coffee. You wanted the caffeine and you probably weren’t going to sleep anyway. 
“I promise I’m not planning to do anything while you sleep. But you’re going to help me with moving flooring tomorrow and you’re going to need the rest,” you insist, tapping your hand on their shoulder. 
Your contact makes them startle. They want to hold you and tell you how much they love you. They want to explain how this was for you. They were only doing what was best for you. They wanted to tell you how they knew you’d never see it that way and that’s why you were never meant to see them do this. But instead, they swallow the bitter reality and do as you say. If you were willing to help them this much, then they should keep their complaints to themselves. 
You note that Venture is resting on the couch in the living room, and for a moment it does cross your mind that if you wanted to call for help, now would be the time. Any other time, Venture easily overpowers you. But it’s also the first time calling the authorities has crossed your mind since you came home. The idea makes you nervous and you turn your phone face down on the counter as if to reject the possibility of doing that. You finish your coffee and start another pot of water before heading up to shower and change. 
You spend the rest of the night until morning, re-scrubbing the floor and cleaning anything you can. You know that you don’t have to at this point, you’re fairly confident you got everything done the first time around, but you needed to do something to stave off the looming anxiety. Your body aches from being on the floor and cleaning so much, but you just take an ibuprofen and ignore it. 
Venture, thankfully, wakes by themselves and saves you the mental distress of figuring out how to approach them. They follow you around for a bit like a lost puppy and it makes it really hard for you to not embrace them – but you know if you do, you’ll break and you can’t afford that. 
The drive to and back from the store is relatively uneventful. You explained the plan, and Venture did as told. The whole time you could feel them look at you for some reaction, but you ignored it. 
The two of you spent the rest of the day tearing up the floor and replacing it. It was mostly Venture and you helped where you could, you didn’t have the strength to match theirs on a good day, much less when you’ve pulled an all-nighter and barely eaten anything. 
The project is done by late afternoon. You were hoping to finish by noon, but at least it’s over now – and you probably didn’t contribute too much anyway. 
You take a long shower and pick something comfortable to wear. When you are done, you call out for Venture to do the same. Who, like everything else you’ve said these past two days, follows.
You collapse on the couch, and the give of the cushions is a relief your aching body needs. The thought of taking some more ibuprofen crosses your mind, but the idea that you’d have to get up deters you greatly. 
Venture eventually finishes their shower and slowly creeps into the living room as if to not scare you. They settle on the carpeted floor some distance in front of you. They’re looking at you the whole time, there’s a desperate desire in their eyes. Both of you can feel how fragile the atmosphere is. If you had any energy left to spare, you’d notice how uncomfortable it was that your constantly chattering partner had been silent for almost a whole day, not a single joke shared. Instead, you take note of how their usually fluffy hair is soaking wet, and barely dry. 
To your body’s protest, you force yourself off the couch to close the distance. You pull your towel off your shoulders and drape it over Venture’s head. You use it to dry their hair, gently patting their hair and running your hand through clumps you’re afraid will tangle. Venture lets you do this, all but melting into your touch. Their breaths are slow and relaxed for the first time since you got home. You take more time and care than needed to dry their hair, but the action just felt so domestic and right. And you couldn’t let the feeling go.
When you’re done, you take your time folding the towel neatly, taking care to not maintain eye contact with Venture. They stare at you with a sadness that you know would break your heart if you acknowledged it. 
“Let me explain-”
“Sloan,” they flinch at their real name being used and the sternness of your voice, “I have done so much for you, please do not repay me by saddling me with information that makes me any more guilty than I already am”. 
Your head is still dipped in a way where you won’t meet their eyes, you wring your hands together anxiously, unsure what to say. 
Venture saves you from the silence, “okay,” they pause, “do you want anything? Tea or food… dessert?” And darkly, they consider their options of drugging you and getting you away from here. Maybe to some place where they could do everything best for you. 
You shake your head. 
“Do you hate me?” Venture’s voice cracks at the end, they’re not ready for the possibility of being rejected.
“No- never,” you exclaim in shock, looking up at them for the first time, “I trust your judgment. I trust you. Because I love you”. You confess, stomping down the part of your brain that tries to add ‘a little too much’.
Venture lets out a breath they were holding and almost collapses in relief. Thank god. You still love them. It’s okay, everything is fine as long as you are theirs. 
“Do you need some space,” Venture tentatively offers, they don’t really want to leave, but they want to do something right by you. 
“No,” you choke out, “no, please don’t leave”.
You reach out to wrap your arms around their neck and pull yourself against them, they hesitantly return the embrace, holding you tighter when you don't react negatively to their touch. 
“I think my meds are wearing off,” you’re breathing hard, “it’s all too much to think about. And everything hurts”.
Venture comfortingly traces shapes on your back, letting you cry into their neck as sobs wrack your form and you dig your nails into their back to anchor yourself.
“Don’t go, don’t go, please don’t leave me alone,” you beg.
Venture leans their head against you and pulls you into their lap to hold you closer. 
“I’ll never leave you, mi vida”. 
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Author’s Note: I saw some yandere Venture art and fics here. It inspired me to write about Venture killing someone because of their significant other – be it out of jealousy, possessiveness, or defense. 
This probably doesn’t fall under the typical yandere type stories, but I still consider it yandere because I think in the end, Venture doesn’t regret killing for you, they regret getting caught by you. 
For it’s worth, Venture probably orders you your favourite takeout and drink when you start to wake up so you can have something nice to eat since you haven’t eaten in over a day. 
I don’t think I’ll mention this always, but it should be obvious that both the reader and Venture here are not sound of mind. 
Quote is from Oleander by Mother Mother. Oleander is a toxic plant, it is sometimes used to symbolize desire, destiny, everlasting love, and caution.
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xxxnightcorequeenxxxv2 · 1 year ago
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Humans are Space Fae 2
Safe to say, when humans joined the spacenet, new things were bound to crop up. Memes were quickly understood to be a language of its own, and most humans could tell you if you were looking at one. Most other beings got it or tried to engage with it as it was too confusing and convoluted for them to understand. That leads us to where this story starts; At a universal campus, where roommates had only been assigned a week prior. A student pair that happened to include a human. Was chilling in their room doing homework. The human, as usual, was wearing an earbud while working. "I'm sorry, but I've been really curious, human friend, about what you have been listening to while you have been working." "Oh, I've just been listening to music while I work, nothing unusual. " "So you have been doing the ritual of Lo-fi study music. Would you mind if I joined you in the practice." "eh... not exalty. Lo-fi is fine and all, but I never really got out of the so-called "Nightcore" phase. Not everyone is a fan of it. It can be a bit jarring if you are not used to it." "Is this Nightcore a music genre?" "yes and no, it's debatable. You'll know a Nightcore when you hear it, but Nightcore could be multiple genes. " "Curious, would you consider any other species songs to be Nightcore?" "Not originally, but, I've heard them made into Nightcore." "Fascinating, how do you make a song Nightcore?" "Well, the short and sweet of it is that you speed the song up so you can dance to it." "That's it? I find myself confused. Most songs are perfectly adequate songs to dance to already. Why would you speed them up?" "Well, it's a preference thing, but it still has value. Nightcore has introduced me to many more songs I would not have been introduced to if I hadn't listened to Nightcore." "Why won't you listen to the song normally?" "Sigh, I know, that's what most non-Nightcore fans say. But let me tell you the value a Nightcore could bring to you. You know those sad songs that tell you about the state of the universe?" "Yes, we do have some songs like that I enjoy; they are not as popular as other songs." "Well, they can be played for a bigger audience if you Nightcore them." "Won't that devalue the nature of the song if you make it a dance track?"
"No, it won't. See it like this: you hear the song in the club. Love it there. Add it to your playlist; you play it a couple times. And once have a quiet moment, you listen to the lyrics for once. And then the true meaning of the songs comes to you. " "So you are saying that songs an individual would have lost out on the message, don't get lost because the individual is not a fan of slower songs." "Yeah, that's it. You can also do it the other way with Anti-Nightcore/ Daycore If you are a fan of slow songs. It makes a dance song's lyrics stand out differently to you depending on your mood." "I would like a demonstration." "Alright then, listen to this song, " The human says as they deactivate their earbud.
youtube
After the song finishes they both look at each other for a second. they both grin at each other. "I understand your point friend. May we perhaps make some of my favorite slower songs Nightcore?" "Sure but let's see if they been Nightcored first. "
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dysfunctionalupsidedown · 5 months ago
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An Analysis Of "STurn": My Turn
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Hello, everyone! This is my first real post/analysis of anything Stranger Things related, so please keep that in mind while reading. I'm sure there are quite a few analyses about this playlist already (I'm definitely late to the party,) but I still wanted to add my two cents.
Feel free to let me know if any information I've provided is incorrect. My main source is Genius.com, which isn't at all the most reliable; even still, it'll help to give a clearer picture of each track's meaning and how the general public (which includes Finn) interprets them. I'm attempting to go by what I think Finn's intentions were.
Also, don't forget that this analysis was done under the assumption that the "STurn" playlist is a somewhat play-by-play outline of how specifically Mike Wheeler's S5 arcs might happen. The playlist could be entirely unrelated to ST5. It could be related to all the characters and arcs in ST5. It could be out of order, or based on vibes -- We really have no way of knowing until the full season comes out.
Finally, I tried my best to keep the analysis somewhat objective and reasonable, and I hope I've at least partly succeeded. This is all in good fun, in the end. Now that I've finished housekeeping, please enjoy my thoughts and feel free to chime in with your ideas in the comments! I'm always open to changing my perspective.
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1. Ballad of the Texas King
Let's begin! This song starts with the lyrics, "No one saw / Nothing at all, no law was there to fight / All dressed down / Walkin' out in the California night". I believe this is a more surface-level vibe-setting song, considering where Mike ended in S4. It may also imply that the start of S5 begins where S4 left off. A lot of car imagery is also present throughout, which was a big part of Mike's S4 journey.
There are ideas of being separated as well, with lyrics like "My heart won't beat / 'Til we meet again together". This may allude to Mike's feelings towards the end of S4, having been separated from Hawkins/his family.
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2. What You're Doing - Remastered 2009
Genius.com claims this song was written about Paul McCartney's then-rocky relationship at the time. The lyrics make this very clear, so there's really no alternate angle from which I can read. Let me know in the comments if you interpreted it differently.
In specific, the lyrics "You got me running / And there's no fun in it / Why should it be so much to ask of you / What you're doing to me?", "Please stop your lying / You got me crying, girl", and "I've been waiting here for you / Wondering what you're gonna do / And should you need a love that's true / It's me" really intrigue me. This could refer to Mike's relationship.
The song suggests that the partner may be withdrawing in multiple ways, with the singer grieving over it and attempting to prove their love. El may be starting to distance herself, and Mike could be struggling with it. At the end of S4, El was understandably focused on her failure, to the point where she hadn't really spoken to Mike in the days following it.
I don't think it would be surprising if everything was too much and she ends up pushing herself away from him. I wouldn't say it's implying a break-up, but maybe distancing issues.
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3. After The Earthquake
Again, it's pretty surface-level in the beginning. There was a devastating earthquake in-universe, which supports the theory that "STurn" connects to ST5 in some way. The song tells a story, though, and I recommend looking up it's inspiration.
Despite the choice seeming surface-level at first, After The Earthquake may be implying more for Mike in ST5. Genius.com's contributors interpret the song's narrative as, "[Molly Rankin applying the] concept of post-catastrophe clarity to a couple that got into a major disagreement before one of them falls into a coma from a car crash... In a metaphorical sense, [the song] could describe a more mild situation in which Rankin must put their conflict on hold because something more important turns up." I don't think it's too far-fetched to say that Finn picked up on this. The idea of a disagreeing couple and coma is also prevalent in ST, but like I said in the beginning, I'm going to try to connect these songs to Mike Wheeler specifically.
Although this may be me reading too deeply into it, the metaphorical meaning of the track pairs pretty well with the implications of What You're Doing. It also fits in well narratively, considering that more important things are happening aside from the drama -- the earthquake being one of them. Mike could be putting all of his current issues (internal-conflict-related, relationship, or otherwise) on hold for the moment. He continues to struggle with suppressing his problems later on in the playlist, as well.
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4. Promises I've Made
This song is about mourning a lost or ex-lover. The opening lyrics, "Ever since you have gone, the days don't seem so bright / And I wish I could forget you but I can't / Ever since you have gone, I haven't felt quite right / And I promised I'd forget all that you meant" address this quite directly.
At this point, it's possible that Mike has either been broken up with or the pair have gone their separate ways for some reason. It wouldn't be too crazy to say something like that will occur and he'll grieve it, keeping in mind that one of Mike's main fears is losing El. I just don't know why they'd continue to make it the subject of conflict in S5 (unless it hasn't been fully resolved yet.)
Physical distance between the two also makes sense when considering that Mike is, supposedly, teaming up with other characters next season. Personally, I'm leaning slightly more towards a break-up because of what the previous songs have set up, but, ultimately, it's up to interpretation. It's possible they've just been physically distanced while in a bad spot.
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5. Angst In My Pants
This song is about a person attempting to be someone they're not, suppressing who they really are, and it ultimately leading to dissatisfaction. The lyrics, "You can dress nautical / Learn to tie knots / Take lots of Dramamine / Out on your yacht" describe a faux lifestyle one lives that only serves to hurt them in the end: The idea of putting on a self-harming persona. This could be what Mike is going through in S5, and his teased wardrobe change from S4 supports this.
The lyrics, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go away / It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" and, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go 'way / Give it a hundred years / It won't go 'way" are particularly fascinating and can have multiple interpretations.
For one, it could be Mike trying to hide his real personality following Eddie's death and the collective panic by acting out a more "normal" and "idealized" life -- painfully repressing his true self in the process. This is supported by the lyrics I first discussed. Hiding and embracing differences is a theme in Stranger Things, and I wouldn't be surprised if this is where they take Mike in S5.
Another interpretation involves the previous lyrics, as well as, "But when you think you made it disappear / It comes again, 'Hello, I'm here'". This sounds more like someone trying and failing to suppress a thought. Coupled with "It's just a passing phase", it appears to be a feeling or belief instead of someone's true personality, although I do believe that's a big part of it, too.
Whatever it may be, Mike is definitely struggling with something at this point. He's pushing it down, hiding it, and hoping "..it doesn't show" and that "It'll go away".
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6. The Better Side - Audiotree Live Version
Half way through! This one gave me more of a challenge because there aren't any written lyrics to analyze. From what I can gather, the track is about a person yearning for someone who is a better fit(?) The lyrics that best support this interpretation are, "You're on the better side / You're always the better one for me" and "Don't make me do the falling when I'm drinking of you". Again, if you have any alternate interpretations, please let me know. I'd like to take all ideas into account.
The final lyrics are interesting, "And you're all that I need / I'm not gonna miss you anymore". This can be read as the narrator longing to accept a person into their life and bring them closer. I'm especially interested in the final line because it implies there was something to miss, as if an emotional rift or gap was there.
Mike has come to a realization about something, as shown in Angst In My Pants, and it might partly be about a new thought he's trying to push down, "It'll go away". It's possible the "thought" is about newly developing feelings he isn't ready to accept(?) I don't want to say for certain, though. Nonetheless, it seems like he recognizes this person's importance and "better fit" for him, despite trying to repress it. A fairly surface-level read, but it's the only conclusion I'm able to come to.
Alternatively, it might be about El. The distance apart could be what gets him to solidify how he feels about her. However, Angst In My Pants and multiple songs establishing a separation precede The Better Side. The track is about a better option, as well. Those facts alone make me think of this interpretation as unlikely, so it's not one I personally hold.
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7. Don't Ask Me to Explain
Don't Ask Me to Explain is about two people who are afraid to confess their true feelings to one another, so instead they hide them; with one of the two seemingly more uncertain. It's also, from what I've researched, supposedly about two people of the same gender. There's a possibility that this is irrelevant to the track's purpose in the playlist, but I kept it in mind considering the other songs and my personal interpretation. It's also important to note that these "true feelings" could be about a multitude of things.
The lyrics, "How will I ever know you enough to love you / If you're hiding who you are?", "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?", and, "Besides, I don't want to be the one who's coming out first / I'd really like to but I'm just too shy" support this reading.
I interpreted the last line, "It's so easy to laugh to myself / And pretend that I could love you but I can't" in two different ways. Either it's the narrator doubting their feelings for someone else, or it's the narrator recognizing that they can't let themselves embrace their love for someone, for one reason or another.
As for Mike, his progression makes the most sense to me in the following interpretation. There are multiple and, again, please let me know your ideas in the comments. I narrowed it down to just the one so I don't start nit-picking.
Mike went from a realization, "It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" (Angst In My Pants) to a sort of acceptance, "You're always the better one for me" (The Better Side) to struggling to admit it out loud, "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?"
An LGBTQ+ or "new love interest" interpretation is what I'm able to gather from this. It could describe Mike falling for 'someone' and not knowing how to be open about it due to fear and doubt; with the other person feeling the same way. It may be a surface-level reading, and I'm sure there are several other ways to interpret the track, but that's what I've been able to conclude thus far.
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8. What Do You Want Me To Do?
This one might be the most difficult for me to figure out, but I'm going to try.
The song and the lyrics, "You walked out, took your chance / You turned your back on our romance / You said you found somebody new / You said the change'd do you good" and "You never even gave me a thought / You figured that would be all right / I nevеr had a chance to persuade you / You nеver let me put up a fight" remind me a lot of What You're Doing.
One way to look at it is that it might have the same purpose as What You're Doing -- adding a sort of angsty frustration vibe. I don't know if it would be used to set up a "come crawling back" moment because I don't think that would make sense (especially in Stranger Things), but it's a random possibility I'm throwing out there.
Alternatively, the 'person' that Mike has feelings for could have rejected him for someone else(?) Again, I don't think this would make much narrative sense in Stranger Things, but we don't know what the next season's going to look like.
I'm personally reading it as the former because there are other songs in the playlist used to set the tone. Keeping What You're Doing and Promises I've Made in mind, an additional break-up song is on theme. There's still the possibility of another conflict, though. If anyone else has different thoughts on what the song could be implying, I'd appreciate the input.
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9. Substitute - Live
This track is about an idealized version of someone being put in place of their true self. The narrator describes a scenario in which their partner sees a version of them, "I'm a substitute for another guy / I look pretty tall but my heels are high / The simple things you see are all complicated / I look bloody young, but I'm just back-dated, yeah", that is unrealistic and put on, as seen in the lyrics "Substitute your lies for fact / I see right through your plastic mac / I look all white, but my dad was black / My fine-looking suit is really made out of sack" The couple also seem to be having issues with this, or in general, that they're not addressing, "It's a genuine problem, you won't try / To work it out at all, just pass it by, pass it by"
The concept of a guise applies well to Mike, as referenced in Angst In My Pants. A recurring theme of hiding oneself really makes me think Mike is going to completely abandon his interests for a different lifestyle. I believe Finn has also mentioned that Mike wants to be as "normal" as possible, so I can't wait to see where they take that idea. It could also be him realizing how he's been acting, and admitting that this "romanticized" version isn't true to him. I have hope that Mike will eventually learn to embrace his differences and what he enjoys.
While this part is a bit nit-picky, I feel it's fun to mention that the song was inspired by a lyric in The Tracks of My Tears by Smokey Robinson; the lyric being, "Although she may be cute / She's just a substitute". The line following this (which is also referenced in Substitute's Genius.com entry) is, "Because you're the permanent one". Funnily enough, these lyrics also fit into the narrative the playlist is laying out. They remind me a lot of what The Better Side represents.
Out of context, the lines from The Tracks of My Tears may imply that someone is either using another person as a substitute for an ex, or that someone is realizing they've been using their previous partner as a substitute for someone better. Both routes have the potential to happen in ST5. Although, I don't know if the idea of a literal substitute fits with what The Who was going for. The Tracks of My Tears is also not on "STurn", so take this part as a fun fact with a grain of salt on the side.
At the end of the day, we don't know Finn's motivation for adding Substitute, so this is what we'll have to go off of for now. I feel as though the former interpretation, a less literal "substitute," holds the most merit considering the theme of personas.
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10. The Rebel Kind
Like The Better Side, I couldn't find any lyrics, so I'm doing it by ear. Though, I'm happy to say that this song is about a desire to embrace differences and rebellion. "We'll be free to run with the rebel kind" and "It's not easy, but I don't mind / I just want to run with the rebel kind" establish that. The track appears to tie into Mike's insecurity struggles throughout the playlist.
The lyric "They call us the rebel kind" hints to the panic brewing at the end of S4. Mike might start to embrace and stand behind his true self at whatever point this is in the season. The line following, "But they don't understand / The things a man must do to prove that he's a man", can be taken in different ways depending on how the lyrics are read.
It could be the narrator's struggle to keep up with societal norms before finally giving in to their truth instead of trying to conform, read as "they call us rebels but don't get how hard it is to for us to keep up." On the other hand, it could be the narrator commenting on how society doesn't understand people like them, and, by embracing their true self, it proves more about who they are than conforming ever would; read as, "you think we're the rebellious ones, but you don't understand that we're more self-secure and strong than you'll ever be."
I can see both of these interpretations working for Mike and his connection to the Party. The progression of insecurity in Angst In My Pants and potential realization of this guise in Substitute is wrapped up by Mike's self-acceptance here. I really hope this is how it plays out in S5.
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11. Block Rockin' Beats
There's not much to analyze because this track has one repeated line of lyrics, but it's definitely here to set a tone. The song may have a similar vibe-setting purpose as What Do You Want Me To Do? and Ballad of the Texas King. That's just my theory, though. (A ST5 theoryyy!)
Perhaps this is a climax of sorts where the cast fight the "big bad." The music's tone is intense and sort of aggressive. It's definitely a fun addition to the playlist, whatever the song's purpose in it may be.
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12. Just What I Needed
Finally, we have Just What I Needed. I read this song in two different ways.
The first way I interpreted it was as a love song about the narrator not caring about who this person is, and realizing they need them in spite of it all. The lyrics, "It's not the perfume that you wear / It's not the ribbons in your hair / And I don't mind you comin' here / And wastin' all my time", "Cause when you're standin' oh so near / I kinda lose my mind, yeah", and "I needed someone to bleed / Yeah, yeah, so bleed me" support this.
The second possible reading is that the narrator realizes they were/are in a codependent relationship and they still love the person. The lyrics, "I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to feed / I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to bleed" and "I don't mind you hangin' out / And talkin' in your sleep / It doesn't matter where you've been / As long as it was deep, yeah", could be read as more of a "you're what I needed at the time, but I still love you and want you in my life." With this reading, it's unclear whether or not the love is romantic or platonic. Maybe I'm looking too far into it, but this is what some Genius.com contributors brought up, and it would feel wrong to not include this understanding of the song.
I'm just assuming, since The Rebel Kind seemed to tie up Mike's self-security problem, that this track is supposed to imply a resolution with his romantic issues. Under that impression, there are a few ways we can look at it.
It could be an acceptance for who he has feelings for. He went from mourning a loss in Promises I've Made, noticing something and hoping it goes away in Angst In My Pants, potentially coming to terms with the fact that this person is his "better" choice in The Better Side, wanting to admit a truth but feeling doubtful in Don't Ask Me to Explain, comprehending that he's able to embrace his authentic self in The Rebel Kind, to now admitting, possibly out loud, that this person was "just what [he] needed". That could be far-fetched, but it's just what I picked up on throughout the playlist.
However, it may also pertain to his self-identity struggle that's hinted at throughout (can you tell that I love this part of Mike?) while also tying into his romance issues. He went through a difficult separation with someone in What You're Doing and Promises I've Made, put on a persona and suppressed his true self in Angst In My Pants, realized he couldn't keep it going and needed to address it in Substitute, embraced himself in The Rebel Kind, and now recognizes that the relationship may have been codependent and holding him back from fully dropping the facade: "I guess you're just what I needed" -- in the moment. I don't know if that's too in-depth of a read, but it's a possibility.
While not relevant to the playlist in it's context, it's fun to bring up the fact that Just What I Needed was apparently also the final track listed on the 'official' "Will's Castle Byers Classics" playlist created by Spotify. It's not available anymore, so I can't really say it as a fact. Although, recreations of the playlist have been made long before "STurn" was a thing, and the song was added as the last track as far back as 2018. I suppose that's proof enough that it was at least on the playlist.
Finn listing it as the final track may be a reference to "Will's Castle Byers Classics", but it's also likely that there's no association. That's why I gave the song an equal amount of analysis instead of writing it off as a reference. As to how canon those playlists are, I don't think it particularly matters. It's true that Finn could've seen Just What I Needed in the Will playlist and put it on "STurn", thinking of it as a fun easter egg. There could or could not be implications for that and I'd be remiss to ignore it. I don't know if this rings true for any of the other songs on "STurn" as well -- if they're connected to any other character playlists. Feel free to let me know if they are!
TL;DR
This was really hefty post, and I apologize for that, so here's a summary/recap of what I think S5 may have in store for Mike Wheeler.
Summary:
The season likely starts off at the end of S4, with us seeing Mike react to everything that's happened in Hawkins and reuniting with his family. Tension or unresolved conflicts may be arising in his relationship(s) as well, but he puts it aside to focus on the more important tasks at hand. Either his relationship is put aside with this, or there's an eventual separation that occurs, and he mourns it. After, he tries to maintain normalcy and puts on a guise to appease others. During this time, he may start to have a realization about something that he attempts to repress. He eventually comes to terms with it, though, recognizing that there's someone (maybe something?) better for him. He wants to admit to these true feelings, but he'll struggle with hiding, doubting, and fearing them; thinking he can't allow himself to fully love this person or, at least, admit to whatever feelings or "truth" he possesses. Mike will most likely continue to struggle with mixed feelings and hiding his true personality after this, eventually admitting to not being fully authentic. He'll then accept his true self for what it is. This will lead into a climax, where the main conflict of the show will be resolved. Finally, he'll accept and admit his true feelings, realizing that all he needed to do in the end was be entirely honest with (and about) himself.
In Conclusion
I really want this to be where they take Mike in ST5. It would be such a satisfying thing to watch, especially with how he's acted the past two seasons. I think he deserves to have a self-love/acceptance arc because the show has made it clear he's insecure and inauthentic.
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts and interpretations in the comments, as well as if there's anything you think I should add/fix. I'd love to hear what others have to say about "STurn" and it's connections to ST :)!
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
Text
The Apple of His Eye
Chapter 2: Friends In Low Places
Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Word Count: ~4.9k
cw: alcohol consumption, drunken behavior, karaoke, our couple gets handsy, FLUFF, a few mentions of popular songs in the English language
Summary: You meet Nanami’s friends for the first time. Plenty of alcohol is consumed and you all end up at a karaoke bar.  
Author's Notes: This is the second fluffy side story for A Bento For Kento! I personally love karaoke myself, and I truly believe that Kento does too! I rewrote this to omit most of the English-language songs that I originally mentioned (I name-dropped A LOT before), just because I don't think they'd sing only these type of songs doing karaoke in Japan. Also, this is partially inspired by this Youtube playlist, which was one of the first pieces of fan-made media that got me into Nanami LOL. Anyways, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/saradika.
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Near the end of October, Nanami receives a call from Gojo. They talk and text often, but this phone call in particular is a special one. “Nanamin! How’s it going buddy?” Gojo’s voice is peppy, as usual.
“I’m fine. What is this about?”
“I’m taking Shoko out for an early birthday celebration tomorrow night. She wants to go to this sake bar she likes. You in?”
“Tomorrow night?” Nanami confirms. 
“Yeah. Oh, and bring your girlfriend too,” Gojo adds cheerfully. “I’d love to meet her. Shoko is curious too.”
Nanami makes a strangled noise in his throat before asking, “Why?”
His friend chuckles. “Because it’s been three months since you started dating and I still know nothing about her. I’d like to find out who your mystery woman is.”
“I told you. She’s Nakamura’s older sister.”
“Yes, yes, I know all about the bentos and love notes, blah blah blah. But I want to hang out with her, get to know her better! She sounds like an angel if she puts up with you.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But seriously, bring her out with us. I already know Shoko and her will get along well. It’s only me she has to worry about,” he laughs mischievously.
Nanami tenses up, already annoyed at the type of shenanigans his colleague will pull out of his sleeves. “Gojo, I will not subject my girlfriend to any of your harassment.”
“I won’t harass her!” he whines. “Have I ever harassed any of your other girlfriends?”
“I’ve never introduced you to any of my other girlfriends.”
“Exactly. My track record is clean. C’mon. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
He takes a minute to contemplate. Introducing his girlfriend to Shoko isn’t the problem. He’s always had a respectable relationship with the laid-back doctor. However, exposing his sweet darling to the incorrigible Satoru Gojo…he shudders thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. Deep down, he knows nothing serious will happen. As much grief as he gives Gojo, Nanami still considers him one of his closest friends. However, he knows him too well; there’s no doubt Gojo will try to find ways to embarrass him in front of her. He finds pleasure in doing this, seeing Nanami’s face turn bright red after recounting one or several stories of their past together. 
He understands it’s an important step in any relationship to become acquainted to one another’s friends. He has already met hers, along with her immediate family. So far, Nanami has not introduced her to anyone in his life. His parents live too far to visit and as far as friends go, they are few and far between. Maybe this is a good opportunity to show her this part of his life. 
Eventually, he agrees. “Fine. Text me the details for tomorrow and we’ll meet you and Ieiri there.”
“Yay! Can’t wait. I’ll start making a list of questions to ask her. I’ll get Shoko to make a list too.”
Scowling into the phone, Nanami mutters, “I take it back, we’re not going anymore.”
“Kidding, kidding! Okay, see you tomorrow. Byeeeee!”
After they hang up, Nanami buries his face in hands. What did he get themselves into?
~~~
Saturday night, you and Nanami hold hands as you walk from the train station towards the sake bar. In your other hand is a small gift bag with a bottle of good Japanese whiskey that you picked up last night. Yesterday, your boyfriend informed you that you’ll be meeting two of his colleagues: Shoko Ieiri, who was his upperclassman at Jujutsu High, and the infamous Satoru Gojo. You’ve heard stories about this man, not only from Nanami, but from your brother Ren, who is currently Gojo’s student. Enough tales to have a vague idea of his personality. Playful, comical, a bit naughty, and constantly pestering your boyfriend. 
You have a strong feeling that the two of you will get along great. 
As you approach the entrance to the bar, you feel Nanami’s grip tighten around you. He turns to you with a clenched jaw and nervous look in his eyes. “I apologize in advance for anything outrageous Gojo does tonight. Please don’t think poorly of me after this encounter.”
You giggle, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Honey, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? I’m sure he isn’t as awful as you say he is. In fact, he sounds fun.”
He sighs. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. Once we enter this establishment, there’s no turning back. We are essentially hostages under his control the rest of the night.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, but before you finish your question, he leads you into the bar, amused and now slightly spooked at your boyfriend’s ominous warning. As you weave through the crowd of people, Nanami seemingly knowing where to go, you recall yesterday’s conversation. 
After Nanami informed you about Ieiri’s birthday celebration, he mentioned, “It might not just be the sake bar. Since it’s Ieiri’s birthday, we may be out the whole night. Knowing Gojo, he’ll drag us all over Tokyo.”
Over the past three months of dating, Nanami would drop little hints about what he and Gojo would do whenever they hang out. He’s mentioned drunk karaoke before. Singing is definitely not one of Nanami’s hobbies, at least when he’s sober. Your man doesn’t sing in the shower, not even in the car. Personally, you love karaoke, so naturally, you’re curious and excited to see where the night will end up, especially with Gojo supposedly calling the shots. The thought of Nanami doing belting out ballads fills you with glee. 
At a table near the back, there is a pretty woman with long brown hair sitting next to a taller man with snow white hair. He wears dark, stylish sunglasses over his eyes, despite being indoors. They’re chatting, the man animated as the woman listens, pausing when the two of you approach them. “Nanamin! You made it!” Gojo stands up to pat Nanami’s shoulder, Ieiri greets you with a kind smile. 
“Hello, Gojo, Ieiri. This is my girlfriend.” Nanami introduces you as you shake their hands.
“So nice to meet you!”
“Glad to finally meet you too,” Gojo responds with a polite grin.
After formally greeting Ieiri, you hand the bag to her, “Happy birthday. I hope you like it. Kento told me you don’t like receiving gifts, but I figured this might be something we can enjoy together sometime.”
She eyes you curiously before reaching into the bag. When she pulls it out to reveal the liquor, she brightens. “Oh, I like you. I like her, Nanami. Thank you so much, I love it. We’ll definitely be drinking this sometime, maybe even tonight.”
“Tonight? Shoko, we just got here!” Gojo exclaims. “We don’t know what the night has in store for us yet.” As you all take your seats, he gives you a wink with that last statement. 
Ieiri recommends ordering the flights, which come with four different types of sake. She gets one for each person besides Gojo; she orders him a non-alcoholic Lychee beverage while he orders food for the table. As you wait for everything to arrive, you make small talk with each other. Nanami is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but you still want to check on him. Under the table, you reach your hand to his knee, giving him a squeeze. He wraps his fingers with yours, squeezing back, indicating that he’s fine.
The beverages arrive first. The four of you cheers to Ieiri’s birthday and drink. You are by no means an expert on sake, but this one is the smoothest you’ve ever tasted, going down like water. Ieiri finishes it fast, then grabs hold of the second, holding it up at the center of the table. “Ready for the second one?” she asks, raising her brow at you and Nanami.
“Shoko, aren’t you supposed to sip on it slowly?” Gojo hides a little naughty smile behind his Lychee mocktail. 
Suddenly, Nanami downs his sake and raises his other glass towards her. “Cheers, birthday girl.” She smiles and they both chug their second shot, easily. 
This is going to be an interesting night.
~~~
Satoru Gojo is no doubt a powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer. Arguably, the most powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer in the world. Nanami can confidently acknowledge that about his friend. 
However, Satoru Gojo possesses another power, unrelated to Jujutsu Sorcery. This power is constantly used on Nanami whenever the two go out together. For some reason, Gojo has this innate ability to get Nanami drunk.
Nanami still can’t explain it. Maybe it’s Gojo’s lively personality, or his friend’s dislike for alcohol that causes him to drink it all himself. The main reason is probably because it’s fun going out with Gojo. Nanami can let loose around him. There’s no judgement; he can let go of all his inhibitions for the night. He knows Gojo will not think differently of him the next morning, even if he does tease him a little bit. Even with Ieiri can Nanami put his guard down. He knows these two quite well and feels comfortable with them. 
Since dating his sweetheart, he hasn’t felt any desires to get drunk with her. Being around her is fun enough sober; the idea of getting intoxicated with her has never even crossed his mind. But when he’s with his friends, he enjoys drinking. He has fun with them, especially when he loosens up a bit. And to be honest, he loveskaraoke. He’ll deny it like no other when Gojo teases him, but he can honestly admit that it’s one of his favorite activities to do. And the only way to get him to do it is if he has a few shots in him. 
He wants to show his girlfriend this side of him. He knows that like Gojo, his sweetie will not judge. In fact, he thinks she’ll enjoy seeing him like this. He’s curious about her too. What is she like when she’s tipsy? Does she like karaoke as much as he does? Will they take care of each other if they’re both hungover the next day? What song can they do a duet to?
On his last shot, Nanami starts to feel his cheeks warm up. Their food hasn’t come out, so drinking on an empty stomach is hitting him harder than he expects. He glances at his girlfriend’s flight, noticing she’s only on her third. Smirking, he teases, “Can’t keep up?”
“I’m not used to drinking sake! But I’ll catch up, don’t worry!” 
Her determination is cute. She is cute. He’s tempted to scrunch her adorable cheeks together and kiss her forehead, but luckily, he remembers he’s in front of his friends. 
“Don’t feel pressured to keep up with them! Believe it or not, Shoko can outdrink Nanami, and that’s saying something,” Gojo explains, casually sipping his juice. 
Ieiri, who has since ordered her second flight, raises a glass with a proud smile and downs it. “One of my many skills.” 
Nanami orders another flight just as the food arrives to the table. Gojo ordered a plethora of sushi and appetizers that looks delicious. Making sure to get some substance in his belly before he continues to consume more alcohol, Nanami fills his plate with nigiri, gyozas, and karaage. He glances over at his sweetie, who begins to wobble slightly in her seat.
“Honey, are you okay?” he asks her quietly as Ieiri and Gojo talk amongst themselves.  
“Of course!” She stuffs a piece of nigiri in her mouth, smiling. “Why?”
“You’re swaying a bit.” He brushes his fingers against her cheek, which is hot to the touch.
“Oh, I get like this sometimes when I drink. Doesn’t happen much with wine, but I guess it does with sake.” She shrugs, returning to her plate of food, unfazed. 
Gojo stares at them, smirking, “Nanamin, it’s cute how concerned you are for your girlfriend. Reminds me of that one time.” 
Nanami groans, throwing back another shot. “Oh great, here we go.”
“What time?” his girlfriend asks, her curiosity and delight so obvious. 
“Do you know that the reason I don’t consume alcohol is because of this guy right here.” He points to Nanami, for emphasis. “Back in our early 20s, Nanami wanted to test out how much liquor he could handle, so he made me take shots with him until he got good and drunk. Mind you, this was the first time I’ve ever had alcohol. Unfortunately, my tolerance is very low, so after consuming as many shots as him, which was ten at this point, I was pretty much shit faced. I couldn’t even stand up straight! I think I was talking in tongues or something and little Nanamin here got so worried, he was calling everyone about what to do. Poor guy was in tears, thinking he killed me.”
“I almost did. I still feel guilty about it to this day,” Nanami interjects.
“He made me swear off alcohol after that. Lectured me about how bad it is for me, especially. I think seeing me puke my guts out traumatized him. But it turns out, he was right. I think it fucks up some of my techniques, so I just steer clear of it completely. Plus, I think it tastes icky.” Gojo laughs with a wave of his hand.
Nanami’s girlfriend has a big grin on her face. “I like that story! Got any embarrassing ones?”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty. Has he ever told you about the time I convinced him to go through a haunted house with me? Shoko was there too, she can attest to all of this!”
Nanami rolls his eyes, smiling. He continues to sip on his last glass of sake as they lean in close together to share stories and laughter. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he feels a pleasant warmth in his chest. Seeing the people in his life gathered like this is something he’s secretly dreamed about for a while now, and it’s actually happening. Before he gets too sentimental, he finishes the rest of his liquor and reaches over to stuff his mouth with another piece of sushi. 
Ieiri ends up ordering a third flight, but only gets through two glasses. She gives the remaining sake to Nanami, who is now tipsy. Maybe even close to being drunk. All he knows for sure is that he feels giddy. He rests his head onto his girlfriend’s shoulder, sighing. She giggles as she caresses his knee. “You good, Kento?”
Gojo, who is checking out for them, smirks. “I think he’s a little tipsy.”
“You’re losing your touch, Nanami. I still don’t feel a thing,” Ieiri claims. 
“Hey, it’s not his fault that your stomach is an unending abyss for liquor,” Gojo teases. 
Nanami mutters, “Let’s call it a night. I’m ready to sleep.”
“Oi oi oi, don’t even think about going home yet. The night is still young and there’s a karaoke bar down the street that’s calling for us.”
“We’ve also got an entire bottle of Japanese whiskey to consume,” Ieiri adds, holding up the gift bag. “Can’t let this bad boy go to waste.”
Nanami responds, “You can’t possibly be implying that we finish that whole bottle tonight, right? Shoko, that’s impossible. No way.”
Ieiri and Gojo grin simultaneously, staring at Nanami. “Someone is drunk,” Ieiri snickers.
Gojo faces Nanami’s girlfriend, who has been laughing the past few minutes, explaining, “Whenever Kento is drunk, he starts calling us by our first names. It’s actually quite sweet.”
“Shut up, Satoru. Leave me alone,” he blurts out.
Shoko and Satoru cackle as they get up from the table. 
“So, karaoke then?”
~~~
It takes less than five minutes to walk to the karaoke bar. You hear the bass bumping from the outside as Nanami holds your hand, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up his forearms. As Gojo pays for a private room, Nanami leans in, whispering, “I love you, baby.” His mouth is warm against your ear, the sweet scent of alcohol lingering on his breath.
You giggle. “I love you too, Kento.”
“No, seriously. I love you. You’re literally an angel. My sweet angel.” He is just too cute right now. You laugh louder. “Kento, you’re drunk.”
“Maybe I’m a bit tipsy, but I promise I mean everything I’m saying. I love you so fucking much.” This man is going to be the death of you. You’re quite buzzed yourself, but you start feeling drunk off his affectionate words. You give him a quick peck on the cheek before Gojo leads you all into a private room. It’s dark inside, with only blue and purple mood lighting on the ceiling. Gojo stands by the karaoke machine, trying to get everything set up while the rest of you sit on the couch. Nanami slumps beside you and leans his head back. A waiter comes in with several glasses and a whole pitcher of water. Ieiri pours it into a glass and hands it to you, smiling. “We should stay hydrated if we’re going to be singing.”
You return her smile and give your thanks, taking a sip before passing it to Nanami. He shakes his head and declines. “No. No water. Need alcohol.”
Ieiri chuckles as you push the glass of water in front of his lips. “Just drink some water first.”
He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.”
“Don’t bother, Nanami is still stubborn even when he’s drunk,” Gojo comments.
You lean close to him, begging, “Please, baby? For me?” You slide your hand on his thigh.
With his arms still crossed, he opens his mouth as you tip the glass to his lips. You watch him take a couple of gulps before setting the drink on the table, satisfied with your tactic. Gojo chortles as he takes a seat beside Ieiri. “I stand corrected. Now, which song should we sing first?”
Nanami stands up, reaching for one of the microphones on the table. “Satoru. You know what song I want.”
“On it.” Gojo flips through the music catalog until he finds what he’s looking for, then enters a series of numbers on the remote. 
Ieiri relaxes into the couch, the same pleasant smile on her face. “Hope you’re ready for this.”
Interested and slightly nervous, you sit back with her to enjoy whatever show your boyfriend is about to perform for you. A familiar tune begins to play, and after a couple of beats, you recognize it as the song Rock Your Body thumping through the speakers. Nanami sways his hips side-to-side in tandem with the rhythm as he sings, “Don’t be so quick to walk away, dance with me! I wanna rock your body, please stay, dance with me!”
Gojo leans forward to look at you, yelling, “He always picks this as his first song! Always!” He also begins moving his body to the music while Ieiri nods her head to it. 
This might be one of the best things you’ve ever seen. Kento Nanami, your boyfriend, dancing and singing to a pop hit from the y2k era. No video could ever do this justice, so you just simple watch and enjoy with your own eyes. On the second chorus, he turns to you, a goofy expression on his face, tickling you under your chin, serenading, “I wanna rock your body, please stay, dance with me!” Gojo and Ieiri let out a loud whoop as you giggle, grabbing his hips while he continues to swing them in front of you. Gojo lets out a whistle as Ieiri cracks up. 
When the song ends, you all applaud as he takes a bow. Out of breath, he puts the mic down on the table and chugs the rest of the water in the glass before collapsing back into his seat. With the biggest grin, you exclaim, “That was so good, Kento! I’m so impressed!”
He gives you that same goofy grin as he slurs, “Was pretty good, huh? Should we take more shots?”
Before you even notice, Ieiri has lined up three glasses on the table and is pouring the Japanese whiskey. She delivers a shot to Nanami, who throws it back immediately. You and her cheers before drinking it. “Let’s do the next one,” she says, placing her hand on your back. “I know what song to do.”
You both belt out another pop hit from the 90s, singing and dancing while on the couch. Gojo chants along without a mic as Nanami bops to the music. Next, Gojo gives a dazzling performance of a classic 80s rock ballad, complete with all the theatrics, including an air guitar solo. After that, him and Nanami do a duet to an R&B song, which involves more hip swaying from Nanami directed at you. Gojo attempts a body roll towards Ieiri, who politely and firmly refuses before taking another shot. 
The room is buzzing with chaotic energy from sober Gojo and the rest of you drunkards. Ieiri’s composure begins to waver as she stands up to belt out Girls Just Wanna Have Fun with Gojo, who twirls her around the room until she promptly tells him to stop. “I’m going to yak if you keep spinning me, Satoru!”
They perform another song together, with Gojo hogging the mic as Ieiri tries to grab it from him, shrieking the lyrics loudly. “Shoko, there are other mics on the table! Stop trying to take mine!” he yells. She giggles, finally taking another mic to continue singing.
You and Nanami cuddle in the corner, unable to keep yourselves off each other, especially after seeing him sway his hips so many times tonight. As the other two sing, you and your boyfriend share sloppy kisses while hands roam over each other’s bodies. As you begin to unbutton his dress shirt from the top, you start kissing his neck, to which he lets out a loud moan. 
Finally being noticed by Gojo, he yells into the mic, “Hey, stop it you too! Gross!”
Ieiri lets out a shriek, also shouting into the mic, “Stop groping each other and sing another song with me!” she demands, beckoning you. 
Stumbling a bit, you get up to stand next to her, but Nanami’s grip is on your wrist, holding you in place. “No, don’t leave. Let’s kiss s’more.”
“Kento, I want to sing another song with my new best friend!” Ieiri whines. Gojo chimes in, “Me too! I want to duet with my new bestie!”
Your boyfriend grunts, eventually loosening his hold. With a big smile on your face, you walk towards your new friends and search through the catalog together, deciding on I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Nanami lets out a loud huff right before the music starts. They giggle behind their hands. “He’s so jealous. He wants to keep you all to himself.” 
The three of you prance around the room, singing, “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heatwith somebody!” 
Nanami scowls in the corner with his foot tapping to the beat. You break out of whatever line dance you’re doing to approach him, bopping your head, trying to coax a smile out of him. His expression is glum, but you see his lips twitch slightly. You take his arm, trying to convince him to join you, which he refuses at first. Not being able to resist much longer, he starts swaying with you as you lead him to the dance party a few feet away. Gojo and Ieiri rejoice as all four of you start shouting the last lines of the song. With everyone panting like they just ran a marathon, you all mutually decide to do one final round to end the night. Gojo, who seems perky as ever, chooses another pop hit. 
“Shoko, record me.” She retrieves her phone as Gojo points to the camera. “Utahime, this is for you, babe!” As he continues to serenade the camera, not even needing to look at the lyrics on screen, you hear Ieiri chuckle under her breath. “She’s going to hate this.”
You and Nanami sit together, fingers interlocked. He nuzzles his face into your neck as he asks, “What song should we sing, honey?” He hasn’t had any more shots since the first one, so his speech isn’t as slurred.
“I don’t know, what did you have in mind?”
“I like that one song. The one you’re always singing to in the shower,” he hums. 
“Ha, so you noticed how obsessed I am with that song right now?”
“It’s cute. I like hearing you sing it.” He rubs his nose into your neck.
Butterflies flutter in your belly. Even after dating for a few months now, you still get flustered by Nanami’s sweet words. “Okay, let’s do it.”
When they finish, you already have the code for the song entered. A smooth ballad starts playing as you and Nanami stand up, ready to duet together. Ieiri squeals, “I love this song!”
Nanami performs the first part with enthusiasm, causing Gojo to heckle, “This is too slow and serious!”
“Shut up, Satoru,” Nanami scolds before he continues.
You explain, “He wanted to this one because he likes hearing me sing it in the shower!”
Gojo smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Got it. I’ll say no more.” Then, he whispers something in Ieiri’s ear. Whatever he mentions makes the other woman smile, glancing at you with a knowing look. 
After Nanami finishes the chorus, it’s your turn. From the corner of your eye, you see Nanami gaze at you lovingly as you sing, moving along to the music. You turn towards him beaming as you sing the chorus together, in sync. When it’s done, you receive a standing ovation from the audience. Nanami pulls you in by the waist and kisses you on the lips, resulting in even louder applause.
“Okay lovebirds, you can go home now. I’ve kept you hostage long enough,” Gojo laughs. He points his thumb over to Ieiri. “This one probably wants to go out to another bar and drink more.”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s my birthday and you’re treating. I’m taking full advantage of this.”
As you all exit the karaoke bar, Gojo approaches Nanami, patting him on the back. As the two men converse, you ask Ieiri in a hushed voice, “What did Gojo whisper to you earlier when we were singing?”
She smiles softly, replying, “Oh, that. He said that Nanami is whipped.” 
“Hey, Nanami is the one who suggested that song, not me!”
Before you can protest any further, she says, “He also said that he’s happy for him.”
That catches you off guard. You pause, not knowing how to react. She laughs. “Kento is rather smitten by you, and I can see why. You two are great together.”
Flustered once again, you respond quietly, “That’s really nice. Thank you.”
“Thank you for coming out for my birthday. It’s always fun making a new friend.” She glances at Gojo and adds, “Expect a lot more invitations from this guy.”
You give her a big smile. “I can’t wait.”
~~~
Gojo wraps an arm around Nanami’s shoulders as they walk behind the other two, making their way out of the karaoke bar. “Thanks for coming out tonight, buddy. This was so much fun.”
“Thanks for the invite. It was a lot of fun,” Nanami admits, sober now.
“I really like her. Your girlfriend. She’s really nice and fun. Total opposite of you,” Gojo jokes. Nanami tries to shrug his friend’s arm off his shoulders to no avail. 
He continues. “In all seriousness, I’m really happy for you. You seem to be in a much better mood these days. I told you all you needed was to get laid!”
This time, Nanami successfully shoves him off as his friend laughs. Before he walks faster to be next to his girlfriend, Gojo utters, “You really deserve this, Kento. You deserve to be happy.”
He pauses to face him, looking at him with a small smile. His mind goes back to the conversation they had a week before he met the woman of his dreams. Nanami had voiced his concerns to Gojo about dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He made up all these rules in his head, forbidding himself to date in order to protect his heart. Of all the people, it was Gojo who was the voice of reason. It was his best friend who convinced him to go for it. And it ended up being the best decision of his life. 
Nanami reaches his hand towards Gojo’s shoulder and gives it a firm clasp. His friend’s eyes widen, even hidden behind the stylish sunglasses. “Thank you, Satoru.” He doesn’t elaborate further. He knows that Gojo understands. 
Gojo’s lip quivers, either from amusement or sentimentality. Either way, he returns to his signature smirk almost instantly. “Let’s hang out again soon, okay?”
They say their goodbyes, Gojo and Ieiri turning to walk to another bar as Nanami and his girl head to the train station. On the ride back, she rests her head against him with her eyes closed. They stay like this in silence, listening only to the sound of the train gliding through the tracks. He entwines his fingers with hers, giving her a little squeeze. As much fun as the night was, these are the little moments that bring him to a state of pure bliss. He’s happy. Truly, utterly, irrevocably happy.
And he deserves it.
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Taglist: @moonmalice @bloombb @strawberry1042
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aflame4goinghome · 8 months ago
Text
Bad Reputation
s.f.k. x reader
chapter two
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Word Count: 7.4k
Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking (marijuana), flirting, a little bit of arguing, lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn so no smut... yet ;)
A/N: Hi guys! Welcome to chapter two! I'm excited to continue this little story for you all. I hope you don't hate me too much for the slow burn ;) Things will really start to heat up once tour starts up, so stay tuned hehe. See ya soon
Listen to the playlist here :)
chapter one
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•
You step off the stage after another successful gig and quickly retreat to the dressing room for a moment to freshen up before heading out for a few drinks. Unfortunately for you, tonight’s celebrations, along with every celebration from now on, will be quite different due to the required presence of a certain bassist. Jodie thought it would be a good idea for Sam to attend all your gigs, to make your relationship more believable as you started “launching” it to the public. 
You were reluctant at first, but at the end of the day, it didn’t feel like that big of a deal. You didn’t have to be glued to his side the entire night or anything, or at least you hoped not. Nonetheless, you knew he was waiting out there for you, and you knew that he had come alone, which made it even worse. At least if Danny or someone had come along, you’d have some sort of buffer, but no– it was just the two of you. Lucy wasn’t even on shift tonight either, having taken the weekend off to go home and visit her family. 
It’s only been just over a week since you agreed to this deal with Sam, and it was already exhausting you. You honestly haven’t even spoken to him since that day, since both of you have been swamped with rehearsals, but Jodie reached out and let you know that he’d be there. You were hoping that he had forgotten, but when you saw him in his usual corner booth during your set, you realized you had gotten your hopes up too high. 
“Whatever! I’m strong, and I’m confident, and I don’t care,” you say to yourself in the mirror as you touch up your makeup briefly. The pep talk wasn’t really working though. “What’s there to be afraid of, anyway? He’s just a guy!”
“I’m a man, for the record,” you hear a smug voice say from behind you. God-fucking-damnit. “A damn good-looking one, at that.”
“Samuel, what are you doing back here? I was coming out any second now, you couldn’t wait?” you say, scoffing to yourself as you put your makeup back in your bag and turn to him. 
You’re actually surprised to see that he dressed rather nicely tonight. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans, paired with a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up. He had the top two buttons undone, but that was the most of it– not nearly as low-cut as Jake would do. 
“What, your boyfriend isn’t allowed to come see you after a show?” he asks sarcastically, leaning against the doorframe. 
“You’re not my boyfriend, Sam– not actually. Nobody’s watching us back here,” you scowl, slinging your tote over your shoulder and walking to the door. You walk right past him and b-line it toward the bar. 
“Seeing us come out together will help us look more like a couple, obviously,” he says smugly. “Come on, Y/N, I thought you had some wits about you.” You stop in your tracks and turn over your shoulder to glare at him. You take a deep breath before feeling calm enough to reply.
“Fine, whatever. Let’s just go,” you mutter, turning to walk toward the bar again. That was the closest that you could ever get to telling him he was right. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you suppose that it wouldn’t be bad for your image if you walked out together. 
“Seb, double rum and coke, please,” you say, trying to brush off your frustration by faking a smile. Sebastian nods and then his eyes drift behind you for a moment. You nearly forgot, honestly. “Oh, and uh– whatever he wants, I guess,” you add, nodding to the tall “man” behind you. 
“PBR,” Sam says behind you, and Seb turns to grab a can from the fridge and open it for him. He places both of your drinks on the counter with a sympathetic smile and then adds it to your tab. 
Without saying anything else, you just turn to retreat to the corner booth, sliding in first. As you situate yourself, you’re startled by Sam sliding in to sit next to you on the same side of the booth.
“What the hell are you doing?” you ask accusingly. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a swig of his beer before turning his body toward you, his long legs stretched out underneath the table. 
“Sweetheart, no one is gonna believe we’re together if we sit as far away from each other as possible,” he answers bluntly. “You have to at least look like you like me and enjoy my presence.”
“It’s harder than you think,” you mumble under your breath, looking down at the drink in your hand atop the table. “But fine.”
“Second time I’m right tonight, y’know. Do I get a prize?” he says with a smirk. You find yourself stifling a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s funny.
“Is the company of a talented pianist not enough?” you say, your lips turning upward slightly into a smile, subtle but still there. A chuckle leaves his mouth, which surprises you. You never expected him to laugh at your jokes before. 
“I suppose it is, you’re one lucky lady, Y/N,” he says smugly. Damnit. 
“Careful, Samuel. For a moment there, I almost thought you were complimenting me,” you warn with a smirk, taking a sip of your drink. Another laugh erupts from the man sitting next to you.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re just dying for that, aren’t you?” he says, his tone bordering on teasing. 
“For you to compliment me? Please. I don’t need you for that when I can easily find it elsewhere,” you bite back. 
“Well, I don’t see any takers,” he remarks, looking around the room sarcastically. “Seems like you’re stuck with just me. Good luck getting any attention now, with me around.” You don’t even grace him with a reply after that one, just taking a long sip of your drink before putting it down on the table and turning your attention to the next act on stage. 
He lets the silence stay, looking to the stage as well as his arm extends to sit behind you atop the back of the booth. As his arm moves behind you, you’re met with a quick waft of his cologne, smelling strongly of spearmint and pine. You’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit that the scent almost sent your eyes rolling in the back of your head, intoxicating you. But you quickly shake it off. 
“So… you guys will be going back on tour soon, yeah?” you ask, trying to fill the silence and save yourself from feeling awkward. He turns toward you, keeping his arm behind you as his fingers graze your bare shoulder. 
“Yeah! We’re heading back out in a few weeks, we’re still trying to get more studio time in so that we can finally start the masters on our next project,” he answers proudly. You knew he was passionate about the music, it was something you respected about him.
“That’s great. From what I heard in the studio the other day, you guys have something really amazing going on there. I really liked the blues roots in some of them, I caught it almost immediately,” you say with a soft smile. Maybe talking to him wasn’t as bad as you might’ve thought. 
“See, thank you! Josh hates those bits– says they’re sonically boring. I completely disagree, obviously,” he says, a smile growing across his face. Despite hating to admit it, the two of you had aligning interests when it came to music, that much was clear. 
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! My favorite part was your transition from E major to C sharp minor, in that second song you guys played. It was so satisfying, that’s one of the best key changes in my opinion,” you say, starting to rant but catching yourself. You start to apologize for rambling but the smile on his face tells you that you don’t need to. 
“I’m glad you caught that, no one else ever pays attention to stuff like that. I swear sometimes it feels like I’m all alone there, their minds just don’t work the same as mine,” he says, his smile widening as his thumb rubs softly on your shoulder. 
“Well, I understand. It’s not exactly the same, but Lucy never gets it when I ramble on about music theory. As a writer, music is like a whole other language to her. I’ve never had anyone to really talk to about music before,” you admit with a shrug, looking over at him.
“Maybe we’ve found that in each other, then,” he says quietly, running his tongue along his bottom lip as your eyes watch carefully. You nod slowly, not sure what else to say. You’re not sure when you let yourself get so distracted, but you couldn’t help it. The proximity made your mind so foggy that you couldn’t think about much else. 
All of a sudden, your attention is pulled away from your phone buzzing on the table. You pick it up to read the text you just received, which you see is from Jodie. 
Jodie: Fans have already spotted you both out at the club! Some pics are already circling Twitter, look! 
She attached screenshots of some tweets that have already been posted, questioning who you are and what you’re doing with Sam. The pictures show the two of you sitting close together, Sam’s arm wrapped around you as the two of you are smiling and laughing.
OMG, who is that with Sam???
He has his arm around her, look!
God, I’m so jealous.
They’re sitting awfully close to be just friends!
You have to admit that the two of you did look good together. You managed to make it seem casual and natural, which was good. To have the fans already buzzing about it was a good sign. After you finish reading the tweets, you hand your phone to Sam so that he can take a look.
“I swear, our fans know no boundaries. Who just takes a picture of someone who’s out minding their own business? Pisses me off,” he scoffs, handing you your phone back as he shakes his head, looking around to see if he can catch anyone looking. 
“I know. But at least we have their attention, right? The seeds have certainly been planted. Now we just need to figure out some sort of hard launch,” you answer optimistically, hoping that he’s not too angry. He doesn’t seem to be, since his smile still hasn’t completely faded just yet. 
“We look kinda good together there, don’t you think?” you joke, pulling up the picture again. You hear him laugh next to you, shaking his head as he looks down at your phone over your shoulder. 
“Yeah, I guess we do,” he admits softly. You almost didn’t realize how close he had gotten, to the point where you could feel his warm breath against your ear. You try not to think about the it too much, with the fear of blush creeping over your cheeks. 
“Wanna really give them something to post about?” he whispers with a smirk, his voice against the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spine. Leave it to Sam to ruin the moment with relentless flirting once again. You turn your head to face him and realize that he’s much closer than you originally thought. Your nose brushes against his as your eyes lock. You clear your throat, trying to seem unaffected.
“As much as I’m sure you’d love that, I don’t think we need to rush all of that so soon,” you say softly, a twinge of sarcasm dripping from your voice. You watch as his smirk widens. 
“Fine, you can be boring,” he says smugly, leaning back against the seat. “But I at least want to give them something interesting to talk about. Who cares if we’re just sitting and talking? Everyone does that, we could at least do something a little creative.” It truly was a performance after all. You just hum as a reply, not wanting to perpetuate the argument any further. 
“Here,” he speaks again as his other hand moves to grasp your thigh, pulling your legs to rest slightly on his lap. His hand still lingers on your thigh, grasping firmly on your thigh right below the hem of your leather skirt. 
“What’re you doing?” you say, in almost a whisper. His boldness has taken you aback, and you hesitate to fight back in that moment. The feeling of his large, callused hand on your skin clouded your brain so much that you almost thought you might like it. 
“Giving them a show,” he smirks, turning to make sure people are looking before turning back to look at you. You couldn’t hide the flush of your cheeks now even if you wanted to. It didn’t take long for him to notice. “Am I getting you all hot and bothered, sweetheart? Is that it?” he asks with a smug grin, his hand moving an inch up your thigh as the other ghosts over your bare shoulder again. 
“Pshh– what? No. No. That’s ridiculous,” you answer, obviously flustered. 
“Just admit that you like it,” he says, leaning down to close more space between you. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Yeah, right. He’d never let you live it down if you even gave an inkling that you were enjoying this. You’d never give him that satisfaction. You clear your throat, inching away from him. 
“Wanna get another round?” you ask, trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t budge. 
“Answer my question,” he says assertively, his fingers playing with the hem of your skirt teasingly. You breathe out a deep breath, but keep your eyes on his. He’s searching them, waiting for any hint of you giving in, but finds nothing. 
“What would you do if my answer was yes? What then?” you ask, your voice breathy and quiet. His lips quirk slightly as he looks down at you. 
“You don’t have to play these games to get my attention, y’know. You already have it,” he whispers, his nose brushing past yours. That’s it, you can’t do this anymore. 
“Okay, I need a smoke. Let me out?” you ask, still backing away slowly with the hopes that he’d stand up and let you out of the booth. An annoyed sigh leaves his mouth as he complies, getting up from his seat. 
“I’m coming with you,” he says, clearly not asking. You just roll your eyes and nod, walking out to the front of the club. Leaning against the front of the building, you reach into your tote and pull out your lighter and the blunt that you had rolled earlier that day. Given the stress from the evening, you thanked your earlier self for thinking of it. 
Placing it between your lips, you quickly light it, taking a drag before lowering it to your side. You take a moment to look over at Sam, who’s looking down at you as he leans his side against the wall. Feeling like you were being slightly greedy, you decide to offer him a hit, which he gladly accepts. 
“Didn’t take you for the stoner type,” he says casually, taking another hit before passing it back to you. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Sam,” you answer, raising an eyebrow at him as you take a long drag. You watch as his eyes flicker to your lips for a moment there. You knew what he was thinking. If you were crossed enough, you thought you honestly might let him. But not just yet.
“I’m starting to see that… I guess if I want to know anything about you, I’ll have to work for it, yeah?” he says with a shrug. That was exactly what you were going to say next– that he had to work for it. You hated that he could read you like that. Maybe you were more predictable than you thought. 
“I suppose so. You should stop while you’re ahead though, I won’t give in that easily,” you tease, taking another hit as you look up at him, trying to read his expression. The weed is already mixing perfectly with the liquor in your system. Your head felt lighter already. 
“I’m not afraid of you, sweetheart. And I don’t go down without a fight,” he says with a smirk, leaning toward you slightly. He towered over you, which felt slightly intimidating. You couldn’t really read him well, either, which made it even more difficult. 
“What do you wanna know?” you ask, taking a hit and blowing it out of the side of your mouth. 
“Where are you from?” he asks, taking the blunt in his fingers as you pass it. 
“Here,” you answer bluntly, watching his lips purse as he takes a drag. It was way hotter than you expected it to be. “Well, not here exactly. I grew up in a town like, thirty minutes away. But I’ve been coming to Nashville all my life.”
“I see,” he says, a small smile on his face. You didn’t ask him where he was from– you already knew the answer, and he knew that. “Did you always know that you wanted to play music?”
“Pretty much, yeah. I started playing piano at 6, joined the jazz band in middle school, and it all just kind of grew from there. My high school band director is the one who set me up with my first ever paid gig, when I was 17. After that, I knew this was what I needed to do.” You can tell that he’s trying to hide his smile, but it’s not working. He was impressed by you, and for some reason, you liked that. 
“I did jazz band too, amongst other things. It was honestly a great start on music theory, learning about chord progressions and improvisation and stuff like that,” he says with a shrug, passing your blunt back to you. 
“Yeah, I agree. You learn a lot of important stuff there,” you reply, taking a hit. It was nice to have someone to talk music with, even if it was Sam. He knew what he was talking about, and it felt like he understood you. That’s not an easy feat. 
“Have you ever been in love?’ he asks, looking down at you. You expected to find a smirk on his face, but there wasn’t one there. 
“That’s a loaded question,” you joke, taking another hit as you try to think of what the hell to even say to that. “I don’t think I have, to be honest. There were times when I thought I was, but looking back…” you trail off. “Have you?”
“No,” he shakes his head, taking the blunt from your fingers and taking a hit. “Nothing ever stuck. Not sure why.” Surely you had a couple of good guesses, but you wouldn’t dare to say any now. The topic was somewhat vulnerable, which you didn’t expect from him. Why did he want to know this about you? You’re gonna take a mental note to ask about it another day when you’re both much more sober.  
Some time passes, as the two of you share the blunt in silence. Near the end of it, you pass him the blunt and let him finish it off, watching him flick the butt onto the sidewalk and stomp it out. He doesn’t make a move to go inside, however, but instead moves closer to you. As you look up at him, your mind starts to spin as his head reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone, the rough callus on it sending shockwaves throughout your body. You’re not sure why you don’t pull away, even when his face starts getting closer and closer to yours.
“Don’t run away this time,” he whispers, his nose brushing against yours as your eyes travel to his lips. They looked soft and full, and you started to wonder if they would feel warm against yours. You knew you probably wouldn’t have to wonder much longer. For some reason, you didn’t want to run away. No, you wanted to stay. Something inside you wanted to know if you’d feel something– anything. 
Your eyes lock with his as his other hand finds its place on your waist, tugging you toward him slightly. You search his eyes, seeing if you could read his mind. What was going through it? You knew he’d been persistent with you before, but why did this feel different somehow? You let your nose brush against his again, as you feel his breath hot against your lips.
“Sam!” you hear someone exclaim from behind you, causing you to jump from the brash noise. 
“We’ll finish this later,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. You suck in a deep breath then quickly pull away, leaving at least a foot between you two as a girl approaches you– seemingly a fan. Sam puts on a brave face, smiling softly as he talks to her. He was gracious and kind, despite being visibly frustrated. 
“Do you… want me to take your picture?” you ask softly, to which she nods feverishly. After snapping a few photos on her phone, you hand it back to her with a shy smile. 
“So, who’s this?” she asks, turning to Sam. God, she was nosy. All the fans were, clearly. What did she care? Why would she need to know who Sam was spending his time with? Your angry internal rant comes to a full stop as Sam wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into him.
“Actually, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he says proudly, his grip soft but strong on my side. You offer her a soft smile as her face lights up, and you know this will be plastered all over the internet by tomorrow. You suppose that was the whole point, though. This was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t expect it to be on your first night out. You thought you’d have more time to prepare. 
Luckily for you both, this girl was way too drunk to bother asking too many other questions. Soon enough, she says her goodbyes and swiftly leaves. You breathe out a sigh of relief, laying your back against the wall once more. 
“Fuck, that was exhausting. How do you do that all the time?’ I ask jokingly, rubbing my temples. He lets out a soft laugh, which makes your lips turn upward into a smile almost immediately. 
“It’s not always that bad. Usually, they refrain from personal questions like that… sorry. I know I kinda put you on the spot there,” he offers genuinely, which you accept. 
“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know it would happen. I just wish I was more prepared– I mean, we don’t even have our backstory together or anything! We haven’t discussed any of the details at all,” you say, slightly exasperated. Another laugh leaves his lips. You think to yourself that you quite liked being the person who makes him laugh.
“Right, well I guess we’ll just have to figure that out then. We’ll need to be prepared, now that everyone is going to know,” he says. “How about we meet up for coffee on Monday and set all the details straight? That sound good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you nod with a small smile. “I can do that.”
“Great, I’ll text you the details tomorrow then,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He sees the time and his eyes shoot open, not realizing how late it's gotten. “Shit, it got late on us. Can I call you a cab?” he asks, looking up from his phone to look at you.
“Oh, no that’s not necessary. I only live around the corner, I’ll walk,” you insist, though you’re surprised he cares that much. It was a side of him that you had yet to see.
“Then I’ll walk you home,” he says, not even letting you answer before starting to walk off. How he knew what direction it was in, you weren’t sure. You suppose he’s seen you leave that way before and leave it at that. 
Soon enough, you’re both stopped in front of your apartment building. It seems like you’re both unsure of how to say goodbye, considering the nature of your “relationship” was such a gray area. You knew he was about to kiss you earlier, and you knew that you were going to let him, but you’ve sobered up slightly now. It wasn’t a good idea.
“Goodnight, Sam,” you say softly, just choosing to back away without a proper goodbye in favor of avoiding any more awkwardness between the two of you.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says, offering you a soft smile as he shoots you a wink. You watch as he turns to leave and walks back toward the bar to catch his Uber home. As he turns the corner, you quickly turn around and retreat inside, hurrying to your apartment before finally entering your bedroom. You lean your back against the door and sink to the floor, your mind slightly boggled by the entire evening. 
You have to admit that you ended up enjoying his company. The teasing was still excessive and he was arrogant, but there were times when this different guy shone through the cracks. You wanted to know that guy.
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•
As you’re sitting on your balcony on Sunday afternoon, enjoying the sunny weather with an iced coffee and a book in hand, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You slide a bookmark onto the page and shut the book, setting it down on your table next to your coffee before reaching into your back pocket to pull out your phone. 
Sam: We still on for tomorrow?
You hum to yourself, checking your calendar quickly to make sure you don’t have anything else going on. You thought that he might have forgotten about your plans to meet up tomorrow, since it was already well into the afternoon and you hadn’t heard from him. But you suppose he isn’t one to rise early, as Danny told you last week. You typically weren’t either, but today was an exception. 
You: Yeah, whenever works best for you. We could meet at the coffee shop across the street from Seb’s?
That place was your usual haunt, the baristas all knew your name by now. It was helpful for hangovers, so you always came in the morning after a night out and it soon became a habit. You knew Sam didn’t live in Midtown, but maybe he wouldn’t mind coming down. 
Sam: Sounds good, meet at 2 pm? I’ve got a short meeting with the guys in the morning.
You: Yeah, that’s good. See ya then.
He doesn’t respond from there, so you just leave it at that. You never took him for much of a texter, so you didn’t read too much into it. You slide your phone back into your pocket and open your book back up, picking up where you left off. 
Just as you were getting back in the groove of the story, you heard your apartment door close behind you. You turn around to see Lucy coming in from her weekend with her parents. She spots you outside and walks over, sliding the glass door open. 
“Hi, love,” she says, coming outside and sitting on the chair opposite you. 
“Hey, Luce. How was your weekend?” you ask, still keeping your eyes on your book. 
“It was good! Tommy had his graduation ceremony this weekend, so there was a big party,” she answers with a smile. Tommy is her younger brother, who’s just graduated high school. You never knew him well, since their age gap was so big, but he was a sweet kid. 
“That sounds nice!” you say, offering her a soft smile. 
“How was yours? Anything interesting happen?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at you. She knows something.
“What did you see?” you ask bluntly, getting right to the point. A chuckle leaves her lips as she smiles at you.
“Oh, nothing. Just saw a few pictures of you and a certain rockstar cuddled up at Seb’s last night, plastered all over their update accounts on Instagram,” she says with a smug smile.
“Why on Earth do you follow their update accounts, you weirdo!” you say, barely getting the sentence out before you both erupt into laughter. 
“When you told me you’d be pretending to date him, I went and followed some of them! I knew you were bound to make it on there eventually and I wanted to see my best friend become famous!” she exclaims, pulling her phone out to show you the posts. There were photos of you both in your booth and standing outside the club. You did look rather close. 
“I am not becoming famous. It’s just a couple of photos,” you say curtly. “And he might have told a fan I was his girlfriend,” you mumble at the end, hoping she didn’t hear.
“He what?” she yells, and your hand shoots to cover her mouth with a giggle.
“Shhh, shut up, the neighbors already think we’re crazy,” you laugh, taking your hand away after a moment. “It’s not a big deal. We knew he’d have to make it official eventually. We’re meeting up tomorrow to get our story together and stuff, so that we know what to tell the fans in case we get asked anything on the spot.”
“Wow, you guys are moving fast,” she teases. She had no idea. You were tempted to tell her about the kiss you almost shared the night before, but inevitably you decide not to. Talking about it will just complicate things even more.
“Whatever. He’s actually not that bad at times– but don’t tell him I said that,” you say with a small smile across your lips. “We just have more in common than I expected.”
“I’ve been telling you that for months, Y/N,” she says sarcastically, getting up from her chair. “I’m gonna go rot in bed for a while, talk to you later.”
“Okay, have fun,” you say, your smile widening as you wave her off and then open your book back up again. 
You really couldn’t stay concentrated on reading today, it seems. You try your best to refocus, and you eventually do, reading until the sun starts to go down. Soon enough, you retreat to bed, getting an early rest before your coffee “date” with Sam tomorrow. That should be… interesting, to say the least. 
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•
As you try and get ready to go the next afternoon, you’re completely stuck on what to wear. What does someone wear to a coffee date with their fake boyfriend to discuss the terms of their fake relationship? God, even phrasing that question made your head spin. You tried asking Lucy for advice but she was no help, just resorting to light teasing and not giving any actual suggestions.
“Why do you care what you wear? It’s not like he’s your actual boyfriend,” she said with a smug smile. You didn’t grace her with a reply, opting just to shut the door in her face and turn back to your closet. 
You sigh to yourself before sifting through your clothes, pulling out a white linen button-up shirt. You decide to just go with a black tank top, with the white shirt on top, left unbuttoned. The weather was quite warm with the summer heat really starting to settle in. You throw on a pair of jean shorts, slip on your low-top white vans, and then throw your things into your tote bag before heading out the door. It was only a few minutes before 2 at this point, but you didn’t want to arrive too early. You assumed he’d be late himself, anyway. 
As you turn the corner and cross the street, you see him sitting at a small table out front. Damn, guess you were wrong. Again.
“Sam,” you greet quietly as he stands up from the table. 
“Nice of you to finally show up, Y/N. Was starting to think you stood me up,” he says with a smirk, opening the door for you. 
“Shut up, I’m two minutes late,” you answer with a scoff, getting in line to order a drink. He stands next to you, leaning against the counter. You decide to stand in silence until after you place your order since your bickering wasn’t really the best idea in public. You order a chai tea latte and Sam just gets an americano, and the two of you find a table in the corner while you wait. 
“So, let’s get started then, shall we?” Sam says, leaning back in his chair. “Where’d we meet?” Your lips quirked upward into a smile.
“Okay, getting right to the point, I see,” I joke, folding my hands and placing them on the table. “Well, that one’s easy. We met at the club. We’ll just say that you came to some of my gigs and just liked me sooo much that you had to say hi,” I say, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at the absurdity of it all. You watch as a chuckle leaves his mouth, and there goes that feeling again. 
“Alright, sure,” he laughs as a barista comes to put our drinks on the table. “Thanks,” he says to them, taking a sip of his drink before turning back to you. “And we can say we started seeing each other… when? Maybe March?”
“Yeah, that sounds fine,” you shrug, taking a sip of your chai. “That won’t explain the girls you’ve had… relations with between then and now, though,” you add, looking up at him. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. 
“If you’re jealous, just say that,” he smirks. “We can just say that we only became exclusive recently.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, but quickly decide it’s not worth the argument, opting to just scoff and change the subject. 
“What do we say when they ask why I’m not going on the tour with you guys?” you ask, adjusting nervously in your seat as a look washes over his face that you can’t quite interpret. 
“Are you not?” Sam asks, the tone in his voice sounding slightly accusatory. You’re not even quite sure how to reply, this wasn’t something you ever discussed.
“Wait, do you want me to?” you ask, straightening your posture. “I still have to work, you know. This is how I make a living, I can’t just ditch Seb for weeks on end.” He ponders your words for a moment, then leans forward a bit. 
“You don’t need all that. Jodie said she’d help set you up in your career, and she meant that,” he says sincerely. “She can pay you for the entire time we’re gone, if that’s the problem. I’m sure we can find something for you to do on the tour. And then when we come back, we can get you in the studio to record your album.”
It all almost felt too good to be true. Too easy. What was in it for them, truly? Sure, having a likable and successful girlfriend would be good for Sam’s image, but is that really all it is? Why does it feel like you’re getting way more out of this than they are? 
“I don’t know, Sam. I really don’t feel like I’ll belong there. What could I possibly do on tour besides act as your arm candy?” you say bitterly. 
“Y/N, you’re not just my arm candy. It isn’t like that,” he says dejectedly. His eyes scan your face but you don’t seem convinced. 
“You may be strikingly beautiful, but you’re much more than that to me, trust me,” he teases, coaxing a smile out of you. When he sees that his plan is working, he continues. “Maybe you could help me compose some piano fills for the shows or something.”
“You’d really let me do that?” you ask, your eyes lighting up slightly. A soft smile grows across his lips. 
“Sure. You won’t catch me admitting this ever again, so don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart… but you’re a talented musician. I’m sure we could cook something up together,” he says. 
You look over at him for a moment, trying to figure out if this is the same Sam that you used to argue with all those weeks ago. Obviously, it is, and he’s still keeping you on your toes, but something’s changed. You’re starting to think that this partnership may work out after all. 
“Okay. Alright, I’ll come,” you answer. “How long is it, anyway?”
“We’ll only be gone a month, and then we’ll have off until the end of the summer,” he assures you. It can’t be that bad, you suppose. 
“Okay, so we have that covered, I guess,” you say, taking another sip of your drink. “I guess that just leaves one more thing. We should set up some rules.”
“Rules? Seriously?” Sam scoffs, leaning back in his seat again. 
“Yes, seriously. We have to be on the same page or else this is gonna end up becoming a big mess,” you say, returning his annoyed look. 
“Fine. What rules are we talking about here?” he concedes.
“Well, first of all, do the rest of the guys know? Do they know it’s fake?” you ask.
“They think it’s real,” he shrugs. “Jodie thought it’d be better that way.”
“Okay, we’ll keep it that way then. But Lucy knows it’s fake,” you admit, and he gives you a disapproving look. “I tell her everything, it’s not my fault! But she’s the only one, even Seb thinks it’s real somehow.”
“Right, well. To the rest of the world, it’s real then. Anything else?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you. 
“We should agree that this,” you start, pointing your finger between Sam and yourself, “is only in public. When we’re alone, it’s just me and you, none of this happy couple stuff.”
“Well, you don’t have to tell me twice,” he says with a smirk, “...unless that’s something you’ll have trouble with, sweetheart?” he teases. 
“Yeah, right. I just can’t seem to keep my hands off you, my bad,” you answer sarcastically. “Whatever, so that’s handled. Have anything you wanna add?” you ask, sipping from your mug.
“Yeah, what happens if one of us forms any sort of…” he trails off, pondering his words carefully. “...feelings.” Your eyebrows shoot up as you look over at him, almost spitting out your drink. You swallow it quickly and clear your throat. 
“Feelings?’ you laugh. “Not that that’s ever gonna be a problem, but… if it is, then I guess we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.”
“What, you’re not scared that you’ll fall in love with me?” he asks, leaning over the table slightly. You mirror his actions, your faces mere inches away. 
“Not in the slightest, Samuel,” you answer proudly, your eyes piercing into his. You weren’t going to back down, and neither was he. As you watch his eyes drift to your lips, you clear your throat, leaning back again. 
“Anything else?’ you ask, looking down at your mug in your hands as you avoid his gaze. 
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ loudly. You can just hear the smirk in his voice. You’re not giving in that easily, you know that the second you look up at him, your heart will jump into your throat. 
“Great, so that settles it,” you say, taking the last sip and then putting your empty mug down on the table. You watch as his hand extends out to yours, to shake it.
“Girlfriend?” he asks, smirking at you as you finally look up at him. You have to hold in a sigh as you offer your hand to him, shaking it.
“Girlfriend.” 
His eyes dart between your eyes and your lips again before he brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it lightly. It takes everything in you not to fold right then and there, frankly, but you’re stronger than that.
His lips were just as soft as you thought they’d be. Not that you’ve thought about them before, of course not. Nonetheless, they were soft, and so warm. They lingered far longer than you wanted them to, and your instincts caused you to pull your hand away, placing it back in your lap. At that, you abruptly stand up from your seat, grab your tote bag, and put it on your shoulder. 
“I have to– I’ve gotta go,” you say softly, and he quickly stands up.
“Okay, I’ll walk you home,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he follows you out the door. Again? That’s the second time just this week… You have to admit that it was thoughtful, but you don’t want to think too much of it. It’s just a nice gesture, nothing serious. He might be an arrogant asshole, but you guess he’s still a gentleman.
You walk beside each other on the sidewalk as you make your way down the street to your apartment. Every once in a while, his hand brushes yours as you walk, sending jolts throughout your body that you’re determined to ignore. You wondered why he asked you about the possibility of feelings being involved. Was that something he was worried about? Should you be worried about it? Surely not. Lucy seems to think you should be, if you told her about this she’d freak. But it’s not a big deal, right?
You stop in front of your building, the awkward opportunity of a goodbye leering over you both once more. You go back up toward your building in the same fashion as the other night, but a strong hand stops you before you get the chance to get too far. 
“Josh is having a party on Friday,” he says quickly, as if he was spitting it out. “I told him I'd bring you.” You stop and look up at him, his grip on your upper arm still remaining.
“Oh. Yeah, I’ll be there,” you answer with a soft smile. His eyes light up, like he was expecting you to put up a fight.
“Cool. I’ll pick you up at 8?” he asks. You nod, as his eyes continue to burn into yours. God, what now? Before you have the chance to do something awkward, his other arm lands on your waist and he bends down, placing a kiss on your temple and then backing away toward the sidewalk, leaving you in silent shock. “See you then, sweetheart.”
“Uh– yeah, see you,” you mutter, your eyes trained on him as he turns the corner. What the fuck was that?
As you slam the door of your apartment, you rush off to your room with hopes of avoiding any interrogation from Lucy. It doesn’t work, however. 
“Y/N,” she opens your door with a smug look on her face, leaning against the door frame. “How was your date?” You scoff at her as you throw yourself onto your bed. 
“I don’t even know where to start,” you groan as she enters the room and climbs into bed next to you. 
She stays sitting up as you lay your head on the pillow, and her fingers comb through your curls as you debrief the events of your afternoon. Despite her occasional jokes and teasing, she seems to be really supportive of you going on tour with the band. After all, it will be a good start for the future of your music career. But at what cost? What will it be like to spend a month straight with Sam Kiszka and his band of brothers? You still had two weeks to prepare, but even that didn’t feel like enough. Your world was moving a mile a minute, and it was only just getting started. 
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•
chapter three
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erisweekofficial · 5 months ago
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To close out the workweek, we have the AMAZING @a-court-of-mischief-and-madness!
Check out Midnight Revelations, an Eris x Reader series! (You won't regret it!)
Read on below to learn more about what drew them to Eris, their favorite fan theories and more! 🔥
What drew you to Eris Vanserra as a character?
I was drawn to Eris Vanserra because I relate deeply to his complex background and troubled past, which SJM only skims over in the narrative. I’m fascinated by how his difficult experiences and family dynamics have influenced his behavior and decisions. His character resonates with me on a personal level because I’ve encountered many individuals who, like Eris, have difficulty expressing their emotions. This struggle to show vulnerability and the resulting layers of hidden depth intrigue me. I find myself compelled by characters who, despite their emotional challenges, navigate their world in ways that reveal their true selves slowly, making them all the more captivating and relatable.
You have the opportunity to add three songs to Eris's daily spotify playlist. What songs would you choose and why?
For Eris Vanserra, these songs deeply resonate with different facets of his character: "Play with Fire" by Sam Tinnesz: This song perfectly captures Eris’s striking and intense personality as the heir of the Autumn Court. The lyrics and mood of the song reflect the dangerous allure and fierce presence he embodies, making it an ideal match for his complex and formidable nature. "I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys: Beneath Eris’s cold exterior, this song highlights his profound loneliness and longing for genuine connection. It speaks to his deep emotional scars and the void left by his stripped childhood, portraying his desire for a significant other who can understand and connect with him on a deeper level. "Daddy Issues" by The Neighbourhood: This track resonates strongly with Eris’s experiences of childhood trauma and the immense pressure from his father. The song’s exploration of fatherly expectations and emotional strain mirrors the intense challenges Eris faced growing up, providing insight into the burdens that shaped his character. These songs not only reflect Eris’s inner struggles and emotional depth but also enhance your understanding of his multifaceted personality.
When writing your fics, how do you choose which scenes or moments to focus on?
When writing my fics, I invest a lot of time in finding inspiration and exploring the uncharted aspects of Eris Vanserra’s love life. I’m particularly focused on crafting scenes where the female main character makes a genuine effort to understand him. I love delving into moments where she attempts to lift the heavy burdens he carries and uncover the cracks in his emotional armor. I often reflect on how Eris’s childhood might have reinforced the belief that "crying makes you weak," and I use this theme to add depth to his character. This belief, instilled by his past, has contributed to his emotional restraint and the mask he wears. Through my writing, I aim to show his struggle with these vulnerabilities and his deep-seated desire to be loved for who he truly is. My goal is to portray Eris not just as a complex figure, but as a human being yearning for genuine connection and acceptance.
What are some of your favorite fan theories about Eris
One of my favorite fan theories is the idea that Eris and Nesta could form a more powerful couple compared to Cassian and Nesta. As I delve deeper into this theory, I find it increasingly compelling, especially when considering their character traits and backgrounds. Eris’s intense and commanding personality, shaped by his experiences and the high expectations placed upon him as the heir of the Autumn Court, aligns intriguingly with Nesta’s fierce independence and strength. Both characters have endured significant emotional hardships and have developed strong defenses to protect themselves. This shared experience of struggle and emotional restraint could create a powerful dynamic between them. Eris’s ability to navigate his complex family dynamics and his hidden vulnerabilities might resonate deeply with Nesta, who also grapples with her own trauma and emotional walls. Their interactions could offer a unique blend of intensity and understanding, as each recognizes and relates to the other's hidden pain and strength. In contrast, while Cassian and Nesta share a strong bond, their relationship is characterized by more open confrontation and emotional rawness. Eris and Nesta’s potential pairing could introduce a different kind of depth, where their personal struggles and strengths complement each other in a more nuanced way. This dynamic could highlight a different kind of power and connection, making their relationship feel uniquely potent and compelling.
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