#and it feels a little too holy to be real

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Into a Tailspin

Prompt Day 27: Traffic | Word Count: 959 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, Premature Ejaculation | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, First Kiss, Getting Together, Virgin Eddie, Coming in Jeans

Eddie can feel the hum of the road beneath the tires, as they're piled together in the back of the Wheeler station wagon. Far too many of them for the space available, and somehow Steve always ends up in the very back. Now, by association, Eddie is in the back, too.

It's been a long day. A trip to Indy, a day full of Christmas shopping and seeing lights, and now they're all exhausted for the long, long ride home.

Everyone is asleep, or at least pretending to be. Well, except for Nancy and Robin in the front, which is good, since Nancy's driving. They keep changing the music to things Eddie isn't at all fond of, but Eddie can hear Robin's nervous chatter, and he smiles internally, just a little. She's trying. He's not sure if she'll ever get there, but she's definitely working at projecting what she wants out into the universe.

Nancy plays everything closer to the vest, so Eddie's not totally sure if she feels the same way, but he's willing to be she's not exactly uninterested.

Eddie shifts on the floorboard, and his arm bumps into Steve's.

They're so close that he nearly feels Steve's breath on his face. Eddie's pretending to be asleep, and he doesn't know why he's faking it. That's not true. He knows why. It's the only way he feels like he can be this close to Steve. 

Like Robin, he's been throwing it out there, hoping it'll stick. It hasn't, not so far, and that's okay. Eddie gets it.

Eddie's just about to doze off for real, when Steve's hand finds Eddie's hip, and Eddie doesn't even have time to react to that before Steve's mouth is on his. And not only is Steve kissing him, his tongue is already in Eddie's mouth.

Holy shit.

It's his first kiss, and it's a French kiss. 

Eddie isn't really sure what to do with that information.

He kisses him back, hoping that it's not awful. He's also hoping that everyone else around is actually truly asleep, not faking like the two of them were, or peeking over the backseat.

Gravitating towards each other now seems crazy, and Eddie can't even wrap his head around it. He feels like he's been flirting with Steve for months, and now is the moment he realizes it's been working?

There's not much by way of traffic on the highway this late at night, but a car does pass, their headlights filling the interior of the station wagon, and they pull apart, where Eddie is able to see Steve's eyes, just for a moment.

And then it's over, and Eddie just has to lay there and overthink his entire life. 

Back in Hawkins, the car stops, and sleepy kids pile out. Eddie feels pulled taut, on edge. Steve gets out, stretches his arms over his head, showing Eddie a sliver of hairy stomach.

Eddie wants to die. Wants to melt into the pavement and cease to be. Was it nothing? Was it everything? Eddie doesn't know, and he can't ask. There are too many prying ears of little shitheads. Is he really gonna have to go home and just stew about this? He'll go mad. Crazy. Lose his goddamn mi-

"Want a ride home?" Steve asks, interrupting his spiral, like it's any normal night. Like they haven't shifted something fundamentally between them.

But Eddie nods, because he wants to see this through. Wants answers. 

Wants to do it again.

Barely out of the driveway, Steve's hand is on his thigh, and creeping higher. 

Eddie's not opposed. He just isn't experienced, that's all. His dick is already straining against the zipper of his jeans, and he wants to squirm against the leather seat to relieve some of the pressure. Steve's torturing him. Not on purpose, probably. He surely doesn't know that this is new for Eddie, that it's thrown him into a tailspin.

A very horny tailspin.

Steve's driving, watching the road, and when they stop at the traffic light on Main, no other cars around, Steve's fingers brush Eddie's crotch. Fingertips ghosting across denim, a promise in the form of light grazes, but even that's too much. He can't. Eddie presses the back of his head into the headrest, squeezes his eyes shut, and comes.

Just like that, in his jeans. 

Now, he really does wish the ground had swallowed him up in the Wheeler's driveaway. 

"Goddamn," Steve says.

Eddie whines, and presses his fist to his forehead, eyes still squeezed shut.

"No, that's good," Steve says, eyes still on the road, "that's real good. Take the edge off, because I've got plans for you."

And if Eddie could come again already, he's sure he would have from that mental image alone.

Steve's thumb is still rubbing the head of Eddie's cock through the wet spot on his jeans. It's bordering on painful, he's too sensitive, too far gone. Too new at this. But it feels good, too. Like he's on the sharpest knife's edge, trying to decide which way to tumble. Pain or pleasure. He's gripping the console with one hand, his own forehead with the other, trying to stop his chest from heaving.

Eddie finally has to cover Steve's hand with his own. He doesn't pull it away, instead he guides it lower, pressing harder, further down. Changing it up to a good pressure, one that's not so solely focused on the head of his spent cock.

No matter what Steve has in mind, Eddie's down. He's in. Steve can show him the ropes. He can tie him up with the ropes. Anything, everything. 

The light goes green.

Eddie's imagination is overactive with the possibilities, as Steve pulls through the intersection and keeps driving.

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🚘

[dreamyluigi]

i'd like to take a minute to explain in weird, unnecessary detail each of my favorite different iterations of luigi. for no reason in particular. he's always the same, but he's always just a little bit different in each series that he's given a significant role. okay here we go

S+

→ 2023 movie: might just barely be my favorite version of his character - i feel like the movie gave him a little sprinkle of all the traits from all the other media in the franchise and solidified his Entire character. he's a coward, but he's extremely brave and resilient, he's just a lil cocky and a lil awkward, and absolutely stuck like glue to his bro. also he's just erm like uh ridiculously handsome. A Very Balanced Luigi Meal i couldn't ask for anything more (other than giving him an even bigger role in the second movie! please! even though i was extremely happy to see him as the damsel!!!)

→ paper luigi: (hopefully) one of the most universally loved because of his arrogance and lil bit extra sass. luigi often acts proud i think as a bit of a mask, but paper luigi really gives us a show of it. he's also just very funny. still very clumsy/accident prone, still very awkward and weak to manipulation/praise. sometimes acts like he's superior to mario (yet still very, very dependent on him and even angry and a lil sassy/spiteful when he's left behind) and i just also think that's really funny. i like how intelligent systems plays around with him, and i hope they continue to do so in the next paper mario luigi game :)

S

→ M&L RPGs: when you are soooo stupid that you are a genius, and actually? you have a special power that no one else in the world has and you're going to save us all? because you are the specialest boy in the world? but you are so stupid.. but you're a fucking genius. what a delightful guy. possibly the silliest of the luigis. always lookin head empty but he can imagine anything. so powerful. but also the clingiest - brothership really did a number for his clingy nature. what do you mean you're gonna cry and die if you're more than 20 steps away from your brother. omg. baby. baby boy. the spoiledest luigi as well.

→ luigi's mansion: i just love how wet and trembly and pathetic he can be. we know he's a coward, but they crank the coward meter up to 1000 with him here - and ghosts being the thing that gets him most is very endearing to me. maybe because i'm not afraid of ghosts idk he's very very cute in these games with his silly expressions and constant jumping and screaming. his weird relationship with e gadd is also just so special. remember! bravery is not the absence of fear, but the will to overcome it.

→ super mario adventures comic: his quips and stupid puns have captivated me. he's honestly not a far cry from his super show cartoon counterpart, but i love him just a little more probably due to the art of the comic and his role overall. i don't have much to say but i just really like him in this very special peak fiction comic okay also he wore a dress TWICE. king shit

A

→ the great mission: my god what the fuck is that thing. who is this guy. no but for real i enjoy this version of him so much - it's such a far cry from how we know him as a character now, but there are lots of things about "beta wario" that still reflect luigi today. love of money/treasure is definitely still there just not as greedy as his old counterpart, the bit of sass and cheekiness is there, even a bit of his spoiled nature too. this guy is so selfish and a little bit nasty and i find him delightful. him callin mario アニキ in japanese is also crazy.

→ super show (cartoon): this pessimistic little bitch always thinks he is going to die in every scenario no matter how inconsequential and i fucking love him. he's often absolutely useless. i also just love the voice and his stupid goofy lines. not integral much anymore to the current luigi personality but there's a little bit of mama luigi in everything i do. there's a little bit of 'holy ravioli' in us all.

→ odyssey: now. listen. he doesn't do much. i know. but his various reactions to mario's outfits and the environments are really good. it feels really special despite his very small role. entirely non-judgemental of his brother's choices. will support him no matter what weird fashion he's into. will even feel his presence when he's invisible. it's very important to me. and the bowtie is so moe i can't stand it

→ super show (live action): even more rude than previous rude luigis like what's his fucking problem. i don't see much of this guy's personality in current luigi at all other than the wee bit of sass i guess. but that doesn't mean i don't love him and this stupid show that no one takes as canon anyways but all luigis are canon to me sorry

B - not inherently different iterations of luigi, and not technically any "worse" than the ones listed above, but...

→ super mario maker 2: call luigi. he will just fucking do it for you. what an absolute legend, a god, perhaps. everyone say thank you.

→ dr. luigi: i have some headcanons but nothing much to say canon wise, he just looks cute and he deserved it. but they should've put his ass back in the nurse's dress

→ tennis/golf luigi: i just like to see him have a good time. also i like seeing his hair and the outfits are cute. i could include the olypmic games and others since he's just the same with different cute fits. uh these explanations are starting to deteriorate

→ cat luigi: his noises... the nyas... neowow... okayyyy. he also is very cat-coded to me anyway. it just fits. i think he purrs when his head is pat while getting praised. i love catboys

→ gooigi: it's gooigi dude. does he even count? what the hell, sure. he's cute... that's all :3

this was kinda supposed to be me analyzing the different versions of luigi and how they compare to each other but it's kind of just a luigi lovedump post... (what do you expect from me at this point?) any missing from this list i'm either not familiar enough with or he doesn't have a big enough role to warrant like a Character Analysis i guess.

which is your favorite version of luigi? which aspects of his character do you like most? for me, it's everything. he's everything. okay bye

[fluffylino]

railway inspired drabble ⚘️‼️

im fucking screaming at the scene where the blood drips out of his mouth and down into the other's mouth. aaaaa screaming without the s

-contains mature themes (chris is mean and not very nice, choking and strength kink, darker themes)

"trust me, darlin and stop trying to run"

his hand firmly pushing down onto your neck. fingers tightening around the base of your neck. you gasp, struggling to escape.

partly blinded by the rags tied over your half your face. catching a glimpse of the creature above.

.

.

this was a bad idea. wandering into the abandoned infirmary and nearby asylum for a few ingredients was not a great idea.

doing this for an acquaintance who you weren't on good terms with, made it feel worse. sometimes desperation fuels a person into doing things that are unusual.

a witch like you? in vampire territory?

no. this was the holy grave.

that too a place where no one dared to go... that was a death sentence.

confrontation with christopher. a man who no one believed was real.

was in fact very real. and very terrifying.

hiding yourself as the other zombified prisoners was the only idea that came to mind.

however it wasn't the best idea at all.

he'd hunted you through the corriders. chasing you down particularly till the open airs. barricaded and within the grass patches outside the asylum.

the end was near? or was it?

.

.

body arching upwards at the heat that licks up your legs. spreading straight to your core. a sensation that has you squirming.

everything blurring when his mouth finds its way to your heat. tongue slipping against your soaked folds.

canines grazing the swollen bundle of nerves in a way that heightens your senses. he's pulling you onto his tongue, tasting you entirely.

unaware of how you ended up in this situation. until you realise this situation wasn't taking place.

atleast in reality.

it was all in your head.

he was in your head. tricking you into being compliant. submissive only to him.

"you seemed to have enjoyed that, didn't ya?"

he cooes, laughing without much care for the fact that he had now kept you pinned to the floor with his booted foot.

hand slipping up to choke you harder.

"dirty girl. or should i say filthy little witch"

a flash of terror ignites within you. minutes to tasting death.

a little more force, a snap and your life would be over in his hands. in the hands of a blood thirsty cold blooded killer of the night.

"you thought i'd be dumb enough to not catch a whiff of your scent"

his lips curve upwards into a condescending smile.

"i'm smarter than you think. i'm everything you think i'm not"

"I knew it from the beginning. hiding? hiding gets you nowhere little one" and you fight back the tears in your eyes. going lightheaded.

watching him bite at his own wrist. whipping his head back with force. not a glimmer of pain in his expressions.

stoic and eerily cold. even as his arm bled. crimson red dripping out of his mouth. staining his chin.

his fingers cupping under your jaw. keeping your mouth open unconciously to gasp for air.

kicking at the grass under you at the warmth of his own blood dripping right onto your tongue.

tastebuds firing up at the iron like taste.

eyes fluttering as his darkened pupils stared straight into your soul. parting his lips further to spit more blood for you to swallow.

"h-hah" you gurgle, desperately trying to grab onto him. any part of him. wrapping weak hands around his covered biceps. clawing at the skin.

"take it like a good girl" and you moan. breathing heavily around the two digits he pushes past your lips.

pressing down on your tongue, making you swallow. his nails prodding deep enough to make you gag.

"i said take. it." and it shouldn't be so arousing. you can't control the slick that pools between your thighs. cunt throbbing and weeping for him.

even more so...now that he had imprinted himself on you.

you didn't know what to classify him under. an original vampire? a half turned werewolf?

whatever he was...he was powerful. controlling. thirsty for blood. thirsty for ruthless killing.

its only when you sob out. grinding onto his boot with relentless hips. that he pins you down. licking the redness that dribbles out of the corner of your lips.

"shush now, my sweet thing" he cooes, kissing the tears that stain your cheeks. his fingers tugging away the cloth covering your face.

"hush hush pretty girl" the vampire trails a finger down to your lips. firmly shutting you up.

"i'm in control of you from now"

.

.

.

.

.

the mv screwed up my brain and now all i can think of is mister christopher bahng-

[clemelntine]

Heartkiller episode 6 uncohesive stray thoughts

With screenshots because, as always, I took too many and feel the need to make them usefull

Oh how sweet

Oh how horny

Oh how sweet

Oh how horny

No fr tho fucking rollercoaster of a morning after scene. Couldn't decide between morning sex and cuddles so they just did both ig.

Styles dad is such a consistantly real character. Like objectively he isnt that chill but also that is just a dad tho

Does he have the embarrassing fliphone because it is harder to track/easier to replace, or is he just a nostalgic piece of shit millennial

That is such a sick ring setup. Like, two rings on one finger and the rest just bare. Bold fucking move Style

Dont make me cry

My eclipse rotten heart cant handle this, please

Look at him fisting that bottle. Least casual person ever.

Hes such an emo piece of shit

I cant handle this episode and it just being Kant and Style trying to subconsciously convince Bison and Fadel to not continue to be hitmen :(

God this montage made me so soft

I am absolutely feral over this shot. Like ofcourse they are really cute laying there, but also that little piece of Kants stomach.

Haha that is so funny. Kill me

Omg thay finally makes four asses grabbed

Hot

Fadel real for that tho. Obsessing over your hands cuz you touched your fav band. Peak fanboy behavior.

He is so fucking sappy it makes me stupidly sad.

I stood strong for quite a bit but omg he so hot i cant handle it anymore. Where did they even find a man like that.

Liar. Litteraly full face on cctv, is he really oblivious to that. Didnt think they would have some kind of protection

Fadel mostly being there to make sure Bison doesnt reak havok to the world is my fav little suprice from this show.

Simp

What kind of restaurant does he run

Holy shit he is fucking cooked

Oh the parallels, oh my heart

I think they're are trying to kill me

Favorite scenes

Ofcourse their dates and the little montage

But Style and Kant missing their boyfriends also hit like a fucking truck

Love the amount of friendship/brotherhood we got this ep

For anyone curious about my screenshot statistics I took 125 screenshots total. 81 of Fadel and or Style, 30 of Kant and or Bison, 9 of Kant and Style together, 4 of Fadel and Bison together and 2 of Captain Christ.

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 8

You're so, so pissed.

warning/cw for user having a panic attack- basically hurt no comfort

never mentioning how long it takes for me to write a chapter again because wow hi guys it's been two months... i'll be real, it's not my best work, but if i try to nitpick anymore this chapter'll be out when i graduate haha (additional: this is day 25 of my advent calendar! i know this was supposed to be out on christmas day, i'm sorry, i'm sick 😭)

ao3!

ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

(Why Did I Like You? Breaking it Off)

Your realization is a scary one.

It takes you taking an Uber home, collapsing in your bed and passing out and waking up before you realize the consequences:

Holy fuck, you loved them.

Them being a couple.

An established couple.

Who got along like water in a stream.

You came to another realization not too shortly after: there’s no way in hell you can tell them if you want your friendship to remain the same. And if you don’t want them to think of you as a creep- because that’s exactly how you feel. 

You feel like a creep, wanting to be a part of their undoubtedly closed, private relationship, wanting to get closer than what’s acceptable, at least in your head. You don’t know when or how or why these feelings have arisen- all you know is that they are just there. And you certainly don’t appreciate them at all.

No, you determine yourself to push down these frankly irrelevant feelings. There’s no use for them by either party, anyway.

Little do you know that on the other side of the plaster and drywall , Johnny’s feeling the same as you .

He’s a lot less in denial about his feelings than you are, though. He came to terms with his feelings a long while ago, and he’s been a lot less subtle about his feelings, too. What with the way he had snuck food from his plate to your own when you ate dinner with them just because you said you liked a certain dish or how he had stopped you from paying for anything while at the countless (literally, countless) art fairs you had been dragged to or the hopelessly-in-love looks he gave you from the other side of a room.

However, much like you, he’s scared.

He’s been stockpiling, hoarding random facts about you and committing them to his memory, just to randomly delight you with something you assume he’d forgotten .

He and Simon have had thirds before, multiple times. People that had left well before morning, whatever. They’d never seen anyone like you before—sweet, little you. You who had barged into their hearts with your broken one, nestled deep, curled up and settled.

Still, he’s scared. He and Simon had never talked about their relationship like that before, because they never needed to.

You, though, were making him question things. He had always thought- assumed?- that Simon was the one and only person for him. Only Simon could fill a persistent ache in his heart, could soothe his overactive mind and lull him into rest. However, when you came along, suddenly Johnny felt the same way he had when he first met Simon. Suddenly, he was poking the bear that was the 6’4 masked Lieutenant in base after being transferred into the 141, giddy off of boyish nerves and fickle puppy love that soon turned into something more.

Suddenly, you make Johnny feel as though he’s a lot younger than he is.

And don’t get him wrong, it’s bloody amazing . He adores you- well and truly , he does. He’s scared of how Simon will react, though.

He and Simon are birds of a feather, really, and he knows that Simon likes you a fair amount. The real question is if Simon thought of you the way Johnny did, or if to him, you were just a good friend. It’s that thought that makes Johnny scared- that if he introduced the idea of including you in their relationship, Simon would be disgusted, maybe even offended. It’s that thought that gives him pause and stops him from bringing it up to Simon.

More fuel to the fire of your trepidation: you're so anxious about the sculpture. You know they know that it was someone else (technically), but the memory of throwing that sculpture- god, you feel terrible about it. Yeah, you were maybe a lot intoxicated, but it was still insanely terrifying. You just knew that if you were to go up to them unguarded they would split your brain open and see everything within you. They would be able to tell that you broke the sculpture and they’d see your weakness and then they’d hate you for it. You’re convinced that they’d hate you about it so much that they will get you kicked out of your lovely new apartment somehow, maybe from a friendship with the landlord, and then convince your job to drop you for being a deplorable sculpture-shatterer. Maybe they'd even go as far as to go onto the news about you and your deplorable-ness since Johnny had gained internet reach via the homophobic outburst. Maybe they’d turn you in to the cops. Maybe you’d get locked up, like how Simon was trying to get the original vandal to be. Needless to say, you didn’t talk to either of them about the incident, going rigid whenever it got mentioned, going to yourself ‘god, maybe they’ve found you out’ when all it is is Simon grumbling about the local police being little to no help. You’ve also been sort of avoiding them, not responding to Johnny’s texts as much or purposefully timing taking out the trash to catch Simon and Riley on their afternoon walks. You don’t think they notice, since they’ve been caught up in a sudden wave of support on practically all ends- you’re sure you saw a few strangers loitering on their doorstep a few separate times. 

Despite all of your anxiety, life still moves on. You worked nearly every day for the past two weeks before getting two days off. The clinic had been swamped because a nearby elementary school had a lice outbreak; first-time moms who had never heard about lice shampoo came flocking to your practice. It probably would’ve been funny, you supposed, but it was just tiring to deal with back-to-back upset toddlers with upset parents. You were so tired that when Johnny reached out to invite you to watch a horror movie in preparation for Halloween, you couldn’t even bother with your anxiety declining, just wanting some sort of comfort. 

Now, you’re at the boys’ apartment, contemplating the benefits of leaping out of their balcony; just to rid yourself of the near-crippling anxiety of being so close to the two of them. You're settled into the couch to watch Jennifer's Body with the boys, and Simon is lounged with his mask off and he has one burly arm over the top of the couch , practically over Johnny's shoulders as Johnny sort of sits right in the divot between Simon's cushion (since he’s buff enough to warrant his own cushion) and the cushion he should’ve been sitting on, enticing you to sit closer than normal to Johnny.

Knowing what you know now, you don't. Feeling what you do now, you don’t. You even take the opportunity to put a little space between you two, sitting purposefully on the other side of the couch. You’re honestly scared that if you do sit close to him, they'll take you sitting shoulder to shoulder with Johnny wrong.

You settle in, kicking your stocking-clad feet up onto the couch as you watch the first scene of the movie .

You zone out for a while and it’s not until Simon huffs a gruff chuckle at something or other- you weren't really paying attention- that you zone back in. Then, as if recalling something, his brown gaze bores directly through the fucking tissues of your face, right over an asleep Johnny, who had leaned in his sleep, his head now on your shoulder. He’s kind of (really) scary like this, just staring at you. It’s more tense without a lighthearted Johnny to diffuse the tension.

“You’re jumpy,” he observes.

“I’m not.” You’re not.

“Are y’ sure? You haven’t been seeming like yourself for a while, bun.”

“I’m fine.” You are. He scrutinizes you and you can feel a pit of anxiety in your stomach, which quickly turns into an irrational sort of anger. “Don’t look at me like that.” You half-snap. He had just looked at you so closely that you’re utterly convinced he knows exactly what you’re thinking, which only serves to irritate you further.

“Sorry.” He says, but he doesn’t seem sorry, only surprised.

“No, you’re not.” He’s not . His brow furrows.

“Bun, are you-“

“Stop.” You say, and he does. Johnny starts to drool. You look back to the movie. Simon doesn’t, and it ticks you off- his eyes are analytical but soft. Like he’s pitying you, which confuses you- what about you is there to pity? You’re convinced he knows everything about the sculpture now, what with the intensity of his gaze earlier. He should be feeling angry at you, not sorry for you.

“ Stop looking at me like that!” You burst out, making Johnny flinch awake, his head stuttering as it rises up from your tensed shoulders. He blinks blearily at you and your heart stutters, because even mostly asleep, he’s drop-dead gorgeous. He’s so pretty. It shouldn’t be allowed. Unexpectedly, it just adds more fuel to the fire that is your anxiety-driven rage.

“Wh’s-” Johnny starts.

“Bun, it’s okay- hey,” Simon cuts in.

“Fucking stop! I don’t get how you can be so- so calm all the time when you hate me,” you say, traitorous tears pricking at your eyes. “I know you know that I broke the vase, a-and it’s so infuriating when you act like nothing’s wrong! Like it doesn’t matter! Like you’re just- waiting for the perfect moment to strike on me and force me to pay my dues or something! Being quietly pissed off is shitty and rude and dehumanizing!"

You fight through the rising nausea and-

"-I hate that you know that I love you!" Embarrassment rises to your cheeks. It's slick and toxic, because *what the fuck*, no way you just said that?! You're fuming as you get up on unsteady feet and leave their apartment, narrowly avoiding the next wave of trick-or-treaters. You fumbled with your key before prying open the door of your apartment , falling onto your bed and crying into your pillow, frustrated with yourself.

That was awesome. That was great. You'd just confessed everything you knew they knew- if they didn't, they surely did now. They'd hate you. You really had to start detaching yourself from your apartment now, because you were almost 99% they would be reporting you for harassment or something to your landlord.

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

Both Simon and Johnny are confused as they sit on the couch in stunned silence in the aftermath.

"Well." Simon murmurs.

"Yeah.”

“I mean… well, fuck. Right bloody mess, that.”

“Only a mess? More like-” Johnny stops himself and bites his lower lip , hesitating .

“Well? Go’n, then,” Simon interjects, bumping Johnny’s shoulder. “More like what?” 

Internally, Johnny berates himself for the slip-up, since the plan has never been to tell Simon the truth. To confess that he-

No, he’s sure Simon must have an inkling of the direction of the secret he’s concealed for the better half of a month. Simon knows him too well, too intimately, their souls too closely intertwined for any secret to survive longer than a month. He should just fess up, he knows, but speaking the words would only be painful and he feels like they both could do with a lot less pain.

“Si, it’s-”

“Bullshit,” Simon says nearly immediately, his eyes glaring daggers through Johnny’s skull, making him gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Jus’ spit it out.” He hisses.

“I… Si,” he sighs out. “Si, Ah really like them. Like, really,” he says sulkily. “Ah still love ye the same, an’ I still think you’re my soulmate an’ all, But…. Somethin’ abou’ them, Si, I dunno.”

“Ah, Johnny,” Simon says, sighing, drawing Johnny closer to his side. “Tha’ isn’t anything to worry about,” he rumbles, “I feel the same, y’know. Thought you clued it out by now.”

“Really?” Johnny asks, peering up at his lover.

“Yeah, really, with your dumbass.”

“Oh. Well. I think- I think they feel the same.”

“You think ? They fundamentally confessed, love,” he mutters.

“Yeah, ollright,” Johnny huffs. “What d’ya suppose we do, then, if yer all-knowing?”

“Well, we tell 'em, don’t we? Get them a nice dinner. Some wine. The works.”

“Uh-huh. I think they’re scared of us, though, Si,” Johnny says quietly.

“I think you’re paranoid.” Simon presses a kiss on Johnny’s forehead. Johnny huffs again but offers no further cheek. “I say we take ‘em out to Ivy Springfield’s. Alright?”

“Alright.”

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[bimrwolf]

The Christmas Arrangement (Part 4)

steve harrington x fem!reader words: 3,754 warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT (i couldn't help it... they just ended up alone and it happened) 18+ minors dni :P summary: Steve Harrington thought asking his stubborn intern to play his girlfriend for the holidays would be simple. But "pretend" starts to get a little complicated when moments feel a little too real. a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY !!! i wanted this done before christmas but due to my health that didn't happen. im not sure when part 5 will come out but it will be before or on new year's eve!!!! i have a dr appt monday to see when i'll be having surgery. thank you for your patience ! enjoy this little short filler before the final part :) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (coming soon)

Steve’s hands gripped your waist, his mouth on the nape of your neck, stomach pressing into your backside, hand around your throat. Your hand was on the wall, holding yourself up. You were melting as he roamed your body, whispering dirty things about your dress. 

He was still wearing the suit, well just the pants, jacket, and hat. He had ripped the beard off as soon as the door closed. His mouth was on yours immediately. But you weren’t going to complain. 

You moved your hips, allowing your ass to rub his crotch, making him dig his fingers tighter. You bit your lip, pleased as you felt him growing. 

You wondered if this would be your new normal. Him pulling you into his office, pretending to speak to you about important business stuff. In reality, the contents on the desk would be on the floor, your legs wrapped around his hips. Okay, maybe you have secretly imagined it before. 

You moaned as he pressed into you, forcing your cheek on the freezing cold wall. His hand let go of your waist, fisting the flesh of your thigh. You hissed when he slipped his finger under your dress to drag it against your sensitive area. 

He stopped, moving your head to look at him, giving you a sly smirk. “Already soaking wet. Hope it’s not ‘cause of me.” 

You rolled your eyes, facing the wall. “Shut up, Harrington.”

He used his knees to move your legs apart further. His finger pushed your underwear to the side, slipping his digit inside, and then another. “I was thinkin’ about something earlier.” 

“You, thinking? That’s dangerous.” You closed your eyes, trying not to lose control as he slid another finger inside of you. 

“The other day. I asked if you had been in a relationship before.” He said casually. 

You furrowed your brows, back arching at his touch. He was good. He knew how to make you feel good but only just enough where you wouldn’t come undone. “Mhm.”

“Well,” he nipped at your earlobe. 

“I’ve dated.” You guided his other hand to touch your chest, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Not the same,” he mumbled. 

You sighed, a mix of pleasure and annoyance at the conversation. “Why do you care, Mr. Harrington?” 

You could hear him roll his eyes at you. Regardless, he twisted you around, getting on his knees. Swiftly, he took off your underwear, looking up at you with his big stupid dark eyes. You brushed a strand of hair out from his face, wondering if he would grow his hair back out. His hat sat lopsided on his head, the white Pom Pom dangling. “You know I care.” 

“Then show me.” 

You gasped as soon as his mouth found your core. It was different than last night. He was drinking you, his tongue warm and skilled as it flicked back and forth. You thought your legs were losing their feeling. Your hand had knocked his hat off his head, your fingers clutching his hair. “Steve…” you whimpered, leaning forward like you were about to pass out, pushing him deeper. 

You could hear him grunt, occasionally saying how good you taste, the words vibrating that sweet spot that made you feel like a rocket was in the pit of your stomach. “Holy sh…” you were unable to finish the rest of your sentence. The rocket had set off, exploding inside your entire body. 

Steve broke away, panting, standing up. His lips wet, catching yours in a heated kiss. He tapped the back of your thighs, cuing you to jump and wrap them around him. He held you, his hands on your ass, carrying you to the cushioned chair. He sat down, you straddling his lap, mouths sloppily moving together. 

“I already told Santa what I wanted for Christmas,” you teased. 

He smirked. “Yeah, but now I need you to tell me what you want.” 

You could feel the pit of your stomach swell again. “Tell me a secret.” 

Steve paused, his grip loosened, and leaned all the way back in the chair to look at you clearly. His brows furrowed. “A secret?” 

You scanned his face, wondering if now was the time to bring up what his mom had said. You pushed it to the back of your mind. “Something you’ve never told anyone before.” 

His lips twitched. “I wear contacts.” 

You leaned in closer, using your fingers to keep his eye open. You were in disbelief when you could see the light circled line around his irises. “I was hoping the secret would be a bit sexier.” You tried to recall the past few days if he made any signs that he wore contacts. But really, he had already been up before you could catch him putting them in. 

“I’m afraid I’m a bit boring. I forgot what that word even is.” He looked you up and down. “I guess until I met you that is.” 

You bucked your hips, your center rubbing against his bulge. He closed his eyes, exposing neck as he groaned from the pressure. Your mouth attacked his throat, carelessly sinking your teeth, leaving behind a mark. 

“Are you going to tell me a secret, now?” He whispered, digging his fingers into your ass. 

You thought for a moment, running your fingers over the red fibers of the suit. “Do you remember when I accidentally made the wrong copies a month ago and Sharon yelled at me for an hour until you intervened?” 

“Somewhat,” the flicker in his eyes told you he did.

You gave him a chaste kiss. “When you caught her and yelled at her for yelling at me, I went into your office to thank you.” 

“I recall.” His brow was raised, unsure where you were going with this. 

You began to shimmy from his grip, sliding off his lap, onto the floor with your knees. You saw him swallow when you looked up at him, batting your eyes. 

You smirked, tilting your head as you knelt before him. “I said something like… ‘Guess I owe you one. Let me know if you ever need me to get on my knees for you.’”

Steve’s jaw dropped, and a flush crept up his neck. “You said that?”

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a grin. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t think you heard me, though. You didn’t even look up from your computer.”

Steve ran a hand over his face, groaning. “Are you kidding me? I heard you. Loud and clear. That comment haunted me for days.”

You laughed, leaning closer. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought it was like a new figure of speech to help with paperwork or something.” He gave you a half-hearted smile. 

“Jesus, have you always been this hopeless, Steve?” You giggled when his face fell, rolling his eyes. 

His lips formed into a thin line. “I’m smooth when I need to be.” 

“Yes, because letting a comment like that slide, is smooth.” You rested your palms on his thighs. 

“I didn’t let it slide,” he countered. His hands gripped your wrists as if to prove a point. “I just… what was I supposed to say? It was the first time you had ever been nice to me and I was to immediately assume you were flirting? Was I supposed to clarify and ask if you meant to be suggestive or offering to reorganize my filing cabinet?” 

“Reorganize your filing cabinet?” Your head tilted back, laughing. “Don’t worry, I was only turned on because you stood up for me. I never really thought of it again.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t believe what? That I forgot about it?”

“Exactly.” He began to move your hands higher up on his thighs.  “You can’t drop a line like that and pretend it didn’t stick with you.”

“Oh, it stuck with me alright,” you said, biting back a grin. “I distinctly remember walking out of your office, thinking, ‘Wow, he’s even more clueless than I thought.’”

Steve groaned, his head tilting back against the chair. “Clueless? You blindsided me! I was trying to decide if I should fire Sharon. I wasn’t prepared for you to say something like that.”

“Prepared?” you teased, your voice lilting. “Steve, it wasn’t that complicated. It was a compliment, sort of. Maybe a little suggestive. Okay, a lot suggestive.”

“A lot suggestive?” he repeated, mock horror flashing across his face. 

Your fingers hooked the waistband of his pants, dragging them off to expose his black dress pants underneath. “Admit it, Mr. Harrington. You wouldn’t know what to do if you knew I was being serious.”

His breath hitched, but he recovered quickly, his lips curving into that cocky grin you knew all too well. “Maybe,” he admitted, his tone almost daring. “I’m assuming the offer is back on the table?”

Your hands flexed against his thighs, the playful tension between you crackling like a live wire. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll make you beg to hear the rest of my secrets instead.”

Steve’s gaze darkened, his smirk fading into something hungrier, something heavier. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near growl. “You’re playing with fire.”

Unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear was easy. You took him with your mouth, using your hand to pump him as your head bobbed up and down. His words became mumbled and you could make out small curses under his breath. 

You had never really heard a man moan before. But Steve with his wet, swollen, covered in red, lips, parted, allowing the filthy sounds escape. His hand was at the top of your head, grasping the locks of your hair. Tighter and tighter, only making you go faster. 

He finally managed to get you to break away, panting deep breaths. “Come here.” 

His eyes are dark and face smug. 

“Why?” You challenged him. 

“Because I said so.” He tugged at your wrist to stand up. 

You stayed where you were, defiant. “I like it right here.” 

Steve’s grip on your wrist tightened just enough to send a shiver up your spine, his thumb brushing slow circles over your skin. His smirk deepened, tilting his head as he let his eyes drift down to where you knelt between his legs.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, gravelly—like he already knew exactly what game you were playing. “You like it down there, huh?”

Your chin lifted stubbornly, even as heat spread across your cheeks. “I think I’ve got the better view.”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, his eyes flickering with something darker. “Trust me, sweetheart. You definitely do not have the better view. Come here.” 

You dragged your nails lightly along his thighs, feeling the way his muscles tensed. Still refusing to listen. Steve was clearly restraining himself from reacting. His jaw ticked and his grip got tighter. His eyes snapped back to yours, and for a second, the teasing flicker vanished—replaced by something hungrier, more intense. His hand slid down, catching your chin between his fingers, guiding your gaze up to his. You leaned into his touch, lips barely grazing his thumb. “Up. Now. Please.” 

“I’m enjoying you squirm,” you attempted to sound confident. However, the way he said please made the heat at the bottom of your stomach boil. You tightened your legs together, whining, trying to alleviate the pressure. You hated to admit you needed him now or you might combust. 

He must have noticed because he was no longer playing the game. He tugged you up swiftly, your body pressing flush against his as he pulled you down onto his lap, your legs straddling his. His hands found your hips, holding you there firmly as his gaze locked with yours.

“I don’t squirm,” he muttered.

“Oh, you definitely do,” you countered, grinning up at him.

“You sure about that?” His lips were so close that his breath tickled your skin, eyes burning with challenge.

You swallowed, your pulse racing in your throat, but you weren’t about to let him win that easily. “Absolutely.”

His mouth was on yours before you could say anything else, capturing whatever smart remark you’d been about to make. His hands roamed slowly up your back, pulling you tighter against him. “Need you,” he groaned. 

His fingers dug into the back of your thighs right below your ass. You lifted yourself and he grabbed himself, one hand holding you steady, allowing you to slowly slide on him. A mix of pleasure came out of you, like a dirty song. You exchanged a small smile, reveling in the feeling of him inside you. He grinned wider, kissing you tenderly. 

He was literally inside of you and he still managed to make your cheeks heat up. “You’re pretty, you know? M’sorry I made you believe I didn't like you.” 

You kissed the freckle on his face. You didn’t reply, shifting forward, slowly riding him. The pleasure spread to your core, and the more you felt him inside you, making you full, the rest of your body felt electric. 

You continued your sweet, decadent pace, nuzzling your face into his neck. His arm was wrapped around you tightly, palm in your hair. You rolled your hips, biting your lip as the angle brushed your clit. You began to pick up the pace, stealing sloppy kisses in between the moans. 

You leaned back, the change in angle bringing out involuntary swear words. Then it was Steve who began to lift his hips to match your pace. He was hitting just the right spot. You gasped, a high pitch whine poured from your lips, Steve’s chin was on yours, drinking the sound into his mouth. He smirked, open mouthed. 

His thumb found your clit, grazing it gently. “Oh, fuck, Steve. “ you called out. You hadn’t meant to be so loud. 

Steve seemed surprised at your outburst. But you were caught off guard at the sudden intensity. He didn’t hesitate to continue rubbing circles. You leaned back further so he had more access. 

“Sweetheart…” he begged. 

You put a hand on his chest. “Please wait for me. I’m almost there.” 

He nodded, leaning his head back, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed like if he breathed another breath he would come undone. He took your hips, taking liberty to lead, lifting you up and down in a quick steady rhythm. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to fight himself and it was enough for your walls to tighten around him. You gripped him harder with every rock of your hips. You kissed him hard, melting into a pool as your insides cracked. 

“Oh… god,” Steve groaned on your tongue. He gave a final thrust and you felt the warmth of his climax as your limbs shook and the currents in you hit like a storm. 

Holy fucking shit. 

You collapsed on him, chests flush together. 

Holy fucking shit. 

It felt surreal. You could feel his staggered breath. You placed lazy kisses on the freckles on his neck. You felt him smile in your hair, kissing the top of your head, rubbing your back. “You think my mom and friends noticed we’ve been gone?” 

You chuckled lifting off of him. “We can just say we had a Santa suit malfunction.” 

He hummed. “I think they’ll know we’re lying. Your dress is torn on the back.” He played with fabric touching the back of your neck. 

“What!” You sat up, jumping off of him, reaching for the same spot. Sure enough. “How is that even possible?

Steve laughed. He pulled his trousers back on, picking up the red Santa pants off the ground and folding them. He stood up, taking off the rest of the costume. You started to look around the room, frowning. “Have you seen my panties?” 

Steve immediately looked guilty, not looking you in the eye. “No.” He said too quickly. 

You crossed your arms across your chest. “I don’t believe you.” 

He stood up, face still deadpan. He shrugged. “I don’t remember you wearing any.” 

You narrowed your eyes, your lips betraying you as you grinned. You strode over to him, hands attacking his pockets. 

“Woah! Careful there, you might start something I don’t think we have time to finish.” His eyes lit up mischievously. 

“Give them back, Steve,” you giggled as he started to use his arm as a shield. He rummaged in his coat pocket, bringing out the pair of underwear, letting it hang off his finger. “Hm, dunno how it got in there.” 

You took a step back, shoving him slightly. “You’re such a dork!”

He handed them back apprehensively. You wanted to put them back on until you saw the puppy dog look in his eyes. You rolled Your own and slid them in one of his back pockets, patting it gently. You shot him a glare that told him not to say anything or you’d take them back. 

Steve’s smirk deepened, and he glanced down at his back pocket, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “Guess I’ll hold onto these for now. A little keepsake,” he teased, pulling his belt through the loops of his trousers.

You arched a brow, stepping closer, your fingers toying with the edge of his unbuttoned shirt. “Keepsake? I didn’t realize we were doing souvenirs now.”

He looped his arms around your waist, tugging you flush against him. “I like collecting things that remind me of you.” His lips brushed lightly over yours, slow and teasing, and it was ridiculous how easily that line made your knees weak.

“Oh,” you murmured against his mouth, pretending to consider. “Should I start stealing things from your desk then?”

Steve grinned, nipping at your bottom lip. “You already steal all my pens.”

“They’re better than mine,” you shot back, tugging lightly on his collar.

“I swear you do it just to watch me get frustrated during meetings.” His breath was warm against your cheek, his voice dropping to that husky tone that always made you shiver.

Before you could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by Robin’s unmistakable voice.

“Hey, your mom has been looking for you two. So before she files a missing persons report I’d wrap up.. Whatever it is,” she called, the smirk in her voice painfully obvious.

You pulled back quickly, smoothing down your dress as if you could somehow fix the tear Steve had pointed out earlier. Steve’s hand lingered on your lower back as he opened the door just a crack, peeking out. “Sorry, we lost track of time talking.”

Robin’s eyes immediately narrowed. “You two are way too sweaty for only talking.” 

Steve didn’t miss a beat. “The heating in here’s brutal,” he deadpanned.

Robin snorted, crossing her arms. “Sure. Well, get your ass downstairs, your mom wants to take pictures.” Her gaze flickered to you with a knowing grin. 

Steve shrugged off his suit coat, and you felt the warmth between your legs again. There were many times you had “accidentally” turned up the air in the office to see him take off his jackets. The way his dress shirts hugged his biceps just right. 

He draped the coat over your shoulders, smirking as you continued to stare at his arms. 

Steve leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You know,” he murmured, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of his coat on your back, “if you really want to get back at me for the pens… maybe we keep the coat on all night. No dress underneath.”

Your breath hitched at the suggestion, heat blooming low in your stomach. The way his voice dipped, low and deliberate, sent shivers up your spine, and for a moment, you forgot Robin was even standing there, arms crossed and watching the two of you like a hawk.

Steve’s fingertips skimmed over the bare skin of your back, just under the edge of the coat, and your eyes flickered down to his forearms again. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to the elbows, exposing the smooth line of his veins and the faint freckles scattered across his tanned skin. His muscles flexed subtly with every movement, and the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt strained just enough to remind you why office meetings were sometimes unbearable.

You swallowed, the room suddenly feeling too warm. “I think your mom might notice if I’m standing there half-naked in front of the Christmas tree,” you whispered back, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed how tempting the idea was.

Steve grinned, his thumb grazing slow, lazy circles into your lower back. “She’ll just think you’re cold,” he said, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll play innocent.”

Robin cleared her throat loudly, and you both jumped, Steve pulling back just enough to look sheepishly at her. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Your face burned as Steve chuckled, slipping his hand into yours as he guided you toward the door. “Alright, alright. We’re coming,” he said, shooting Robin a half-hearted glare. 

She grinned, pleased with herself, her eyes glanced at Steve's coat draped over you. “Nice touch. Really subtle.”

You tugged the coat tighter around yourself, shooting her a glare. “It’s cold.”

“Sure,” Robin said with a wink before disappearing down the hall.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, watching her retreat with an amused glint in his eyes. “I think she likes you more than me,” he mused, slipping his hands into his pockets.

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the coat as you stepped into the hall beside him. “That’s not a high bar.”

He laughed, his shoulder bumping against yours as you walked. “You wound me.”

“You’ll survive,” you teased, though you let yourself lean into him a little as you descended the stairs. He laughed at your words and you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

You wondered if he’d be this carefree back at work. Your face dropped, immediately remembering what his mom had told you. As Steve guided you toward the refreshment table, his hand warm against the small of your back, the weight of his mom’s words settled heavily in your chest. He's thinking about walking away. The easy way he laughed with guests, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, it was hard to reconcile that with the idea of him leaving the company. Leaving you.

[theloveinc]

My roommate is fighting with her boyfriend but I just keep thinking about having the police called at your wedding because you and the groom are having some, major break-up worthy fight and are throwing cake and champagne glasses at each other... but the closest officer is technically a pro-hero (Kirishima? Bakugo? Both?) who shows up expecting a criminal rather than a would-be bride sobbing in their arms

[johnslittlespoon]

no one encourage this path of brainrot because i will end up writing 3000 words of john and his metaphorical wagging tail when he sees his gale, john and his obsession with the smell of gale's aftershave, rubbing his face on gale's pillow, john and the way he follows gale wherever he goes as though there's an invisible leash between the two of them, john and the way he almost barks out his laughs, john and the way his teeth can't help but sink into gale's neck, collarbone, shoulder, hip, thigh, john and the way he pretends it doesn't do things to him when gale nonchalantly praises him, pretends gale can't see right through him, john and the way he spills over gale's hand when gale calls him a good boy on a whim, john and the way he seeks it out every time gale's on top of him after that, john and something something collar something dog tags something pretty pup something something uhhh rutting up against gale's thigWHAT who said all that that's crazyyyy dude

[katyspersonal]

Abyss Watchers headcanons

> Them all having white hair and red eyes are the signs of a lot of exposure to the Abyss, like how Four Kings got white hair, people in contact with any darkness commonly show red eyes etc. + Artorias ended up with these features too, and black hair on his helmet was his own hair cut to decorate it, not unlike Ciaran's braid. This never caused the panic though, it is no more than like getting tan under too much sun exposure. The corruption carries different effects than just a bit of a recolor!

> Wolf blood gave them minor feral features, like fangs and tufts of grey fur in the spots where humans normally have the most hair. no tails though

> @val-of-the-north actually counted the corpses using colorful stones drops to not get lost! So, the amount of Abyss Watchers is only barely above 100! This is very little for a legion, but they were pretty strong at their prime so the number never shifted too far from this number

> The ~100 consisted of mostly the first of them and those who joined in early. They were mostly a pack of these people, very rarely losing members and very rarely gaining those who would grow into "true wolves". Even out of those who were accepted as Abyss Watchers rather than Farron Followers, most didn't fully assimilate. They remained visibly 'distinguished' ones, like Hawkwood who never grew to their common 10'00''+ height and so

> These rare new members were referred to as 'cubs'. The 'distinguished' people like Hawkwood were continued to be called so even after they fully trained, although it then had more affectionate connotation than referring to their lack of experience

> They offer people who have shown bravery and are deemed to have true warrior spirit within to come with them, however, it is quite hard to refuse them. It is very easy to get roped into madness by them by simply allowing them to surround the person and speak of the importance of combating the horrors, how Artorias tooooootally once succeeded etc. They do not even understand the nearly-hypnotic effect they possess, but it is explained by the gravity of the Abyss itself surrounding them due to their job. It horrifies, however humans naturally possess the darkness that finds kinship in it, the wish to fight it endlessly IS just one of the ways it entices and corrupts. Those who managed to avoid getting seduced recruited by them after confrontation do recall that something felt very wrong and otherwordly for a short time.

> 'Semi-hivemind' is the best way I can describe them tbh. There is usually a member who is unmistakeably singled out and seemingly 'leading the pack', and if this particular person was lost, the next strongest guy would get singled out instinctively.

> "True" Abyss Watchers hardly, if ever, need to verbally communicate with each other, instead understanding instinctively. When they do need to talk with anyone it is this 'pack leader' doing the talking, usually with some others accompanying him and performing actions if needed without any signals to do so. The 'leader', also, mostly speaks for them all as they share their thoughts and feelings ("Don't try to lie to us, we could always smell it in your blood", "We all remember your bravery", "We could almost feel you wagging your tail, if you had one" etc).

> And they can, in fact, sense more than average person due to the wolf blood! Blood pressure, heartrate, whether someone started sweating and so on. It is very useful when someone is trying to hide having gotten touched by the Abyss (reasonably so, because it is instant death). Or if someone pretends they totally didn't encourage less-infected people to evacuate the corrupted land before Abyss Watchers came to obliterate it.

> The best way to stay alive after being targeted for "mercy-killing" by them is to run into the Church of the Deep. Abyss Watchers are sceptical about 'purifying' ones with minor corruption, but they cannot cross into this territory without permission for several reasons. And so far those whom Deacons "treated" really seemed to be alright. Abyss Watchers didn't believe in efficiency of this method though and had a feeling that sacred body of water could not fit in everyone's even natural darkness, let alone Abyssal one. They absolutely loathe and pity the place though, but all they really could do was to wait to obliterate it when it'd inevitably drown in filth. (the big "told you so" day that never became their to claim lol)

> Anyone who feels attracted to them is under no pressure to kiss and cuddle all of them they're welcomed to try though if they dare lol . They share their feelings, so getting close even with one makes others happy by effect. Though if such things occur, usually it is the 'pack's leader' who claims this experience, let alone the fact he is the only one who will actually talk. But even then, at least several others will linger around

> If one of the "true" Abyss Watchers, the 'identical' ones, gets somehow separated from the rest for significant time, they might slowly reclaim sense of identity and even remember their name. Addiction to fighting the Abyss can't be helped though, so they will yearn to forget the brief moments of peace and rejoin the group

[butnobodycame627]

bad day today but hopefully this'll be the worst of it and it'll go away soon -v-

[spotsupstuff]

Read the snippet *cries*

That last writing with Tarrow is beautiful. In my mind was playing Farewell by Bernth and is was a struggle to not cry in public.

I just fell in love with Orion! I love his gentleness, how he just want to give comfort and just AHHHHHH!! That last paragraph just with the hope that Tarrow will see the family that still has is just gets me.

On the side note (and to laugh a little after that beautiful mini story), Crows still is a background character.

OOOOO hey i know that song!!! yeah i can imagine how that'd make it hard to exist in public with some dignity JGDLKJLCMKSL

hah, another Iterator found a way to worm its way into your heart JGKSLLCKMLKS stars, same- the gentleness but also in the contrast of what he's gone through, what that kindness and sweetness had to endure. and he's stern and strict and some would call him a little scary when he talks to them like to some soldiers- promising that if this time around (in the off string au) someone will be caught neglecting their responsibilities like some have done with Mission Self-preservation he will be able to deal with them Personally this time. Notos won't be the only thing they'll have to worry about now. and sometimes he's a little insensitive as a result of that trauma, too. but ultimately? oh gods, ultimately he only wants everyone to be okay and taken care of as they deserve

GSLJKMCKLS fucking Crows.... leave it to the One og character i have in Moon's group to do me a favor and stay as she is meant to be

[apollo-zero-one]

Man I can't believe I had the chance to go to a performing arts school up through middle school and I fuckin quit after 6 months just because I got bullied. BRO YOUR HOMEWORK WAS POETRY!! YOU HAD TO PRACTICE DANCING TO COTTON EYE JOE AS YOUR BIG UNIT TEST. GYM CLASS HAD A CIRCUS UNIT!! YOU HAD A WHOLE DAILY CLASS ON IMPROV!!! YOU FOOL!! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBICILE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A YOUTUBER!!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE TWEENAGERS GETTING LOADED BY MAKING SHITTY YOUTUBE SHORTS IN 2008-14!! But noooOoooOOOoo little miss Noellie (who WANTED TO GO!! who worked SO HARD and sent in an application essay and did an INTERVIEW to get in!!) couldn't handle disruptive classmates or little scuffles and petty grudges and general Attitude of the other students and cried to mommy to put her back in public school. I am EATING MY HAIR over what Could Have Been. I COULD BE SOMEONE'S ANNOYING YOUTUBER!! I could be a DISGRACED DISNEY CHANNEL STAR!! I could be an America's Got Talent winner! A mild to moderately successful comedian! I could be making short films!! But no no no precious thin skinned baby me heard a few new cus words and watched a teacher get heckled and begged to give up The Dream in favor of?? Quiet math tests?? I am such a fucking quitter I quit everything the second it gets too hard I always take the out as soon as it's offered what's my fucking damage.....

[infizero]

also his drawings. make me insane. im pretty sure ive made a post about this before a while ago but i just love looking at his silly little drawings it adds so much to his character. even after everything he's been through he's still got some humor and lightheartedness in him. and he's really good at drawing too!! so it's likely something he's been doing since he was a kid

[dragqueenpentheus]

discuss: juno steel

my thoughts are. i love him. show stopping gender

and mommy issues on that lady

[moinsbienquekaworu]

We're leaving Saturday morning, I just took basically all of my clothes out of my closet and piled them near my suitcase so we know what I'm taking, and seeing my closet all empty (except for all the stuff I never wear I'm not taking with me) is like. Oh my god I'm leaving and I'm not coming back for months. Every time I leave for holidays I think "oh I should take this and this and this and this juust in case, yeah it's just a week but what if I really need my thick socks in the middle of summer?" before I restrain myself and just take three t-shirts, but now that I have the opportunity to pack literally everything in there, it feels wrong. I should not actually be packing up every piece of clothing I still wear. The clothes that stay at home are proof that I'm coming back, if I take them with me too there's no reason for me to go back!

[lecliss]

Controversial opinion I'm sure, but I really don't like the way Yuki Kaji sounds while singing in Kuro's voice. Like I get being in character is the point of a character song, but like. It don't sound good 😶