#and the Brain Kiss thing but that was scrapped! it's not real!

[onlineviolence]

Most of the fan art made of Kaon would make people who do not know who he is think he is simply a walking shitpost when in reality he is only partially a walking shitpost and mostly just a terrible person who hardly ever shows up in the comic that derived a whole new personality from tons of speculation and headcanoning,,, sorry for getting all scientific but I think he s just so interesting

very true! just saw a funny image was all

[namazunomegami]

“Kindly consider the question: what would your good do if evil did not exist, and what would the earth look like if shadows disappeared from it? Shadows are cast by objects and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. Trees and living beings also have shadows. Do you want to skin the whole earth, tearing all the trees and living things off it, because of your fantasy of enjoying bare light? You’re a fool.” - The Master and Margarita

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: geto suguru – long fics

But dang, i didnt realise we were all so thirsty for geto the brainrot is so real

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

☆ as we walk by cerialilith [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 29/? chapters] [singledad!geto] [slow burn] [eventual smut!] [nocurses!AU] #sweet, softest sugu

He only loves two things in life: the scent of coffee and his daughter. But perhaps he can make a few adjustments.

— In which the single mother across the hall manages to catch Geto’s eye without him realizing it.

☆Temptations by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 5/6 chapters] [ smut!] [nocurses!AU] #sugu treats you RIGHT #pep MELTED Suguru Geto is a playboy. A man who's had more lovers than he can even count. You've never been in a relationship, not even experiencing a real kiss when you first meet Suguru. But the two of you fall for each other, and you know that he's the one you want to experience all your firsts with.

☆ Breathe Me In by lovelied [AO3] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [smut!] #pep love this characterization of Suguru Desperate for distraction, a troubled Suguru Geto began inviting you over each night. It began as a casual arrangement, but over time, you found yourself yearning for him in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

☆The good morrow by @temozarela [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing? ◦ 2/? Collection of fics] [smut!] #pep’s comfort fic

You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

aka.

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

☆ Mascara by softsellars [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 5/7 chapters] [smut!] [tw!cheating] [nocurses!AU] [artist!suguru] #complex reader, patient sugu

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself.

For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her.

It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger.

And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

***Porn with a little plot

☆ Whisper of the Petals by @nanamis-baker [tumblr!] [status: on going ◦ 2/? chapters] [slow burn] [College!AU] #SO SO SWEET #sugu with dumb feelings

A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology... but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together. ☆ AFFECTION'S EDGE by @rush-the-stars [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed ◦ 3/3 chapters] [omega!verse] #THE INTENSITY?!

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

*** Suguru tries to tame you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus!

☆ Musubi by Penrose_Quinn [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 2/? chapters] #LOVE THE CHEMISTRY

Then there was a quiet shrewdness in the way he carried himself. You would call it cocky, but this one proved to be more poised and collected on how things would unfold for him. Framed with the anchor of his composure, legs stretched out in front of him but not overly laid-back, and his mind – whatever unfathomable brilliance that dwelt underneath – was unperturbed, self-assured. You wouldn’t claim to have known him entirely though like this, Suguru looked more like himself. “But you won’t disappear,” he concluded. “Not yet anyway.” You gave in to a hum. “You’re really making it tempting for me to leave you hanging on nothing.” Suguru listened, waiting. His pursuit was a game of patience and you chased after the gamble.

Or: the string of each encounter was an entanglement to what brought you closer to him, twisted in each other’s darkness, torn and tied back together throughout the years.

[xhoneygirlxx]

Watermelon Sugar

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.

warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.

if I miss anything plz lmk!

a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)

The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.

It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.

A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?

"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.

It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.

You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.

People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.

You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.

Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.

You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.

So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.

Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.

"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"

Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.

"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.

You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.

"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.

"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."

The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.

Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.

"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.

"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.

You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.

"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.

"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."

When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.

When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.

Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.

Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.

"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.

"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.

"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.

"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.

Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.

"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.

When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.

"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.

It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.

Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.

When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.

Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.

"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.

Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.

When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.

Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.

You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.

You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.

It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.

You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.

Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.

"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"

"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.

He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.

The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.

It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.

"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.

Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.

"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.

You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.

Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.

He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.

Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.

When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.

Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.

"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.

You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think I went to outer space for a second there."

A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.

"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.

"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."

"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.

Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.

"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."

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Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!

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[exactlyyoungchaos]

Loss of my life.

(ex) husband Simon X f!Reader

Part 2.

CW: divorce, hurt, angst, mentions of emotional cheating, trauma. let me know if I missed any, enjoy!!!!

(Don't mind the mistakes.)

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin married

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Nobody prepares you for something like this. What do you do when someone you loved more than your own life, rips apart your soul in pieces? What do you do when the one person you trusted your heart with, leaves you to gather scraps of whatever is left of it?

It's been months since that day. The day you found out that the man you love loved someone else. You moved out the next day, he didn't try and stop you, didn't try to argue or make you stay, he just stood in the corner and watched as you packed up your whole life in a suitcase and left.

When your lawyer served him divorce papers, he didn't hesitate. he signed it immediately as if he was trying to get rid of you, or maybe he was. you don't know, you don't know anything anymore.

When you were young, you were scared to be in relationships because the idea of trusting somebody with everything and giving them the power to hurt you was ridiculous. you always thought love was a sham, just something for romance books and movies.

it was when you met Simon you realized it was all real. the chemical reaction inside your brain that makes you want to stay with someone forever. Laughing at their stupid jokes, waking up next to them, love them was all real. Or maybe it wasn't.

now all you recall, was how you almost had it all. how it all just slipped from your hands without warning.

maybe it was your fault. maybe you weren't enough. maybe you didn't know how to love properly, maybe you were unlovable.

maybe, maybe, maybe.......

Or perhaps it was a sign that a prophecy in your name had already been written. you are not meant for love, you were sent here to be alone, to be betrayed by whoever you trust, to be unworthy. so others would know what not to be.

You sat on the bed of your new apartment, looking at your wedding ring that was still on your finger. you couldn't get yourself to take it off. your heart wasn't ready to accept what your brain already knew.

You couldn't cry anymore, your tears were gone, and all that was left was a deep ache of loss in your chest.

Why? Why did he do this to you? why did he make those vows when he never meant to keep them? you wanted answers, that you knew you'd never get.

If your parents saw you in this state, they would be ashamed of you. you're ashamed of yourself. you can't eat, you can't get out of your bed, because something counterfeits dead.

The house you once called home is haunted by the ghost of lies and deceit. How long has it been going on? how many times did you lay with him in your bed and he wished it was her instead of you?

You were driving yourself crazy. Day by day you were losing your sanity as you combed through your whole life trying to find where it all went wrong.

you've been getting calls from your friends, and messages that you keep ignoring. What were you going to tell them? They bought his lies too.

He said forever and you bought it.

And the worst part is, you miss him. You miss your life, how it used to be filled with laughter, love, and light with him. How he used to hold you when you broke down. How he caressed you when you were in pain, how he made love to you.

Now you're sitting in a cold, dark, and empty apartment on another continent, you don't know who to call and ask for help.

All of your things remind you of him. Do you throw all of the things you built together or keep it? you were tired, mending your gashes on your own. He dealt a final blow and left you to deal with it.

And he doesn't care. He's already with her. he already replaced you. Nothing you two had was real.

But then why do you feel like dying? Why was it that you can't feel anything anymore? Is this how it will always be? Will you ever be okay enough to want to live?

all of these were very big questions you weren't ready to ask yet, or maybe you never will be.

you needed a distraction and you needed it fast.

you picked up your phone for the first time in the day and went straight to the one person you knew who could give you a reprieve from yourself.

Laswell.

You felt numb as you dialed her number as if a switch had been turned off in your brain. She picked up on the third ring.

"Sparrow,"

She still called you by your code name. Your first team that you were assigned to as a rookie medic gave it to you.

"I need a job," is all you said.

AN: SOOOOO!! DID WE LIKE IT? THOTS? I might have shed a tear or two writing this. don't mind me.

@ssc7514 @rrtxcmt

If you want to be tagged in the next part do tell me.

Until next time sugarplums.

ALI-💋💋💋

[reidsaurora]

hil! so im a little nervous to send this in and confused how exactly to request but im gonna try anyway

the summer celebration and the banner is so cute! could i please request for you to write a "Malibu Dream House - domestic!au" with Reid and fem!reader? Spencer and reader are expecting (unless you're uncomfy with pregnancy, then they can just be a couple that's moving) and relocating, buying a home together. and the team comes over for a house warming party during well obviously the summer! just like cute fluffy dynamics between everyone. Rossi is protecting the bbq like it’s his baby and ofc Ms. Penelope Garcia is excited at the possibilities of the couple’s future

i hope this isn’t too boring a request, and of course no pressure to write this, i just hope you’re having a good day and hope summer treats you well 🩵

hi, lovey! sorry this took so long! as usual, i don't have an excuse alshalsjsksh 💀 hope u enjoy though!

"With A Little Help From Our Friends" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Reader is feeling apprehensive about the end of her pregnancy, Spencer reminds her that really all you need is a little help from your friends.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1,846

Content Warning: pregnancy stuff, a little sexual humor at the end, food talk, small mention of a gun (this is CM after all), lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: it definitely didn't take me three different attempts to write something without scrapping it...

Originally Written: 07/23/2024 through 07/27/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (love u my editor 4 life)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration can be found here!

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Crashing Waves - angst requests -> Sun Kissed - fluff requests

To say the last couple months had been busy would've been an understatement.

Sure, when you and Spencer first saw that little blue plus sign, you went into full-blown parent mode. It started with some baby clothes, then some bottles, then the crib… But, entering the last trimester of your pregnancy, that's when things started to get real.

In the process of getting ready, you'd acquired enough things for a potential army of babies, making Spencer's apartment—originally intended for one resident—feel even tinier than the baby you were soon to birth. So what was Spencer's genius solution? Move into a new house, because he simply couldn't get rid of his baby's things before she'd even arrived.

And that was how you found yourselves heavily pregnant and moving into your new three-bedroom Cape Cod in the quiet town of Cabin John, Maryland. Perhaps you should've found somewhere that wouldn't require waiting until your eighth month of pregnancy to move in, but with its charming blue-and-white exterior and flower boxes on nearly every window, it was hard to say no to the place.

The last week had been spent moving everything in, not much thanks to you but thanks to your friends/colleagues of the BAU. Pretty much everyone had been in and out of your home over the week, but Spencer still insisted that the two of you should throw a housewarming party, and who were you to say no to that cute smile and big brown eyes? You only hoped your daughter wouldn't inherit them, or else you might just take that two letter word out of your vocabulary altogether.

Now you were here, in the kitchen supply aisle of the grocery store, contemplating what paper plates to use for the party.

“I really don't think anyone's going to care about the design, love,” Spencer attempted to reassure you. “Just so long as they aren't flimsy.”

Your pregnancy brain was basically ignoring him at this point though. “What if I buy the wrong ones and they think they're ugly?”

Spencer pouted, though he placed a supportive hand on your back. “How long have you known my colleagues? And how many times has someone said something mean about something so miniscule?”

“There was that one time Rossi said he didn't like that flower arrangement I put on the coffee table.”

“In his defense, he said they were the same colors that his second wife had at their wedding,” he explained, then chuckled. “He was probably just having some PTSD.”

Eventually, after a few more minutes of contemplation, you decided on the basic white ones, Spencer reassuring you all the while that they were perfect. Then, it was onto cutlery, which was just another thing for your brain to pick apart. You knew it was silly, truly, but you just couldn't get yourself out of your own head about even the most miniscule things.

On top of that, it seemed as though your husband hadn't missed your shift in behavior. Sometimes it sucked that he read people for a living.

“Honey,” he started, his tone sounding oddly like the word he'd just said, “are you sure this is about paper plates and plastic forks?”

Normally, you'd be able to put up a fight with your brain, push down the thoughts and explain later in the comfort of your home. But pregnant you was much different than regular you, and it only took that one question to have you tearing up.

You leaned into his shoulder, hoping to suppress the sounds of your cries. “What if I make all the wrong choices and the baby hates me?”

His lips met the crown of your head for a gentle kiss, followed by a soft sigh. “I promise she'll love you. You're going to be the most wonderful mother any little girl could ask for.”

“But what if I buy her the wrong diapers and she yells at me?”

Spencer gave you that signature pout, and a small swarm of butterflies set off in your belly. “I doubt she'll be that picky over them, but if she is, we just buy her new ones and make it better.”

You couldn't help but snicker through your tears. “I feel like that's awful advice, but I think I get what you mean.”

“C'mere,” he mumbled, pulling you in as closely as possible. Your bump had made it hard for hugs to happen, but that definitely didn't stop your husband from trying. “You're going to make a mistake or two. It's in our nature. I will most likely make a lot more than one or two mistakes-”

“Not true. You're gonna be the best dad in history.”

“And you will be the best mom in history. It's going to be a learning curve for all three of us. But, when they say ‘it takes a village,’ at least we know we have our village. JJ will be there to help with all your new mom questions and Hotch will be there to help me build her first treehouse. Kate will be there when she starts playing with makeup and we start to feel old.”

You giggled into his shoulder, earning you a small smile. “Penny will be there just to spoil her.”

“Emily will be there just to teach her how to flip someone off,” he snickered, the sound vibrating against your skin. Then, he was pulling you up for a long but sweet kiss, the taste of his morning coffee taking over your senses. “We've got this. You've got this.”

And instantly, you were feeling better. You knew Spencer knew magic, but sometimes you swore he was a wizard with the way he could change things just by saying one thing.

—

The second you pulled into the driveway, your heart sank to your stomach.

“Spence, why is the gate open?” You only hoped he had a reasonable explanation.

Unfortunately, his answer was not at all what you were hoping to hear. “I'm not sure. I don't think I left it open.”

Abandoning your party supplies in the car, the two of you headed toward the gate, Spencer insisting you and the baby stay behind him. As an FBI agent, he knew never to go anywhere without a gun, so luckily he at least had some way to protect you and himself if it came to that.

With one hand, he pushed open the cracked gate, the other lingering near his firearm just in case. The two of you quietly and slowly made your way into the backyard. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest, it felt like it would jump right out of your ribcage. Spencer managed to remain his normal, calm self, but you couldn't say the same.

And then, just as you rounded the corner: “SURPRISE!”

Both you and Spencer nearly jumped out of your skin at the screams, though you both quickly realized what was going on.

Pink and white balloon arrangements, one table filled to the brim with gifts and another covered with various snack trays and drinks. If it wasn't clear this was a baby shower, the sea of people in pink outfits would've been the giveaway.

Penelope was first to greet you, her pink sundress bouncing as she practically ran to meet you. “You don't understand how hard it was to keep this from you,” she said, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

Your arms flew around her neck, and hers wrapped around what they could of your stomach. “What is all this?” Now you were on the verge of tears with her.

“Papa Rossi wanted to throw you guys a shower and of course we had to surprise you.”

You let go of Penelope and turned to Rossi, wearing his normal attire, except for his normal white button-down had been replaced with a pink one. “Dave, you old softie!”

His arms wrapped around your neck for a small hug, and he left a peck to each of your cheeks. “I love you, kid, but don't call me old.”

You laughed as he let go, and immediately he walked over to the grill, like that was where he belonged. Then, you and Spencer were off to make the rounds.

Spencer wore the biggest smile you'd ever seen, aside from the one he had when you'd first shown him the pregnancy test. Even though you'd been with Spencer for nearly a decade, you still felt butterflies and goosebumps when he smiled, when he laughed, when he called you ‘love’.

“He's gonna be the best,” Penelope said, her eyes following yours.

You smiled before turning back to her. “Yeah, he really will.”

Just then, Luke and Spencer headed your way, Spencer moving to stand behind you. Immediately, you leaned into him, and he took your belly in his hands, relieving some of the pressure there. “Why were you staring?” he teased in your ear.

“I just think you're pretty,” you giggled, the sound like music to your husband's ears.

Luke snickered at the interaction, though he tossed an arm around his girl, giving Penny a quick kiss on the head. “By the way, you guys should have babies more often. This woman has been cooking enough to feed an army. She left like ten casseroles in the fridge for you guys.”

“Penelope,” Spencer gave her a soft look of something close to disapproval, though you knew he didn't mean it. “You didn't have to do that.”

“You and Mama are gonna need something to eat, and I know you guys are not going to feel like cooking after being up with a newborn all night.”

And it was time for another hug, the tears from earlier actually falling this time. You weren't sure what it was about pregnancy, but you'd realized it had made you awfully touchy. But you didn't care, especially today, when you were in the arms of some of your best friends.

“Hey, Penny,” Luke said as he watched the encounter, a tone of slyness to his words. “Maybe we should hop on the train next. Then you'll have a reason to make that breakfast casserole more often.”

She pulled away from the hug before turning to her boyfriend with probably the most serious look you'd ever seen her wear. “Luke Santiago Alvez, if you bring your man-juices anywhere near me, I will rip off your thingy and then feed it to you.”

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips. Then, you turned to Spencer, who was just confused. “Did she just call it a thingy?”

“Did she just say man-juices?” His sentence elicited giggles from all four of you.

It was then that “With A Little Help From My Friends” by The Beatles started to play on the speaker, no doubt having been taken over by Hotch. But as the song played, you couldn't help but notice the sea of people all here for your baby. Sure, you were terrified. But you knew you'd get through it: with just a bit of help from your friends.

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @mmmeademaaa @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing @captainchris-pike @therealrazortai

[ilovetheriddler]

Denial of Infatuation.

(Arkham Games) Edward Nigma x F!Reader

(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)

Word Count: 837.

Contents: Very Suggestive content, Kissing, Obsessive Behavior, Intensely Possessive Behavior.

Edward found these thoughts he often had of you troublesome and quite annoying. The fact that he couldn't keep you out of his mind and it was starting to impact his work was pissing him off. What exactly made you so special? Why did you deserve such a huge part of his thoughts? He wasn't sure, and if there was one thing he hated more than his work being disturbed, it was him not being aware of something.

There were some nights were he found himself walking into your room during the middle of the night, simply so he could stare at you, watch you sleep and rack his brain trying to come up with an answer to these... feelings he had.

Ultimately, he came to a conclusion that overall satisfied his need to know. He concluded that these pesky feelings weren't anything like... love or infatuation, no, he was too important of a man to feel those pathetic things! It was obviously acknowledgment that you, as his assistant, were almost his equal, as close as anyone could come to being that is, and as a result he clearly felt a desire to treat you better than he treated everyone else, maybe even reward you for all your hard work.... he decided that perhaps some compliments were in order.

"... You look adequate today..."

"Huh? Um... Thanks, I guess?"

"The fragrance that your body is currently giving off is surprisingly pleasant..."

"... Do you mean the soap I use? I'm not really wearing any perfume right now, so...."

Needless to say, his attempts didn't often go too well. He was just so used to degrading people that he viewed as beneath him that he genuinely struggled to give decent compliments. He didn't need those to show you his... appreciation, though, maybe actions would assist him where words failed?

He started leaving you little metal flowers that he made out of scrap parts for his contraptions. His heart would beat rapidly in his chest whenever you'd find them. It was an annoying and unfamiliar feeling for him, but he slowly grew to like it.

So, of course, how else was he supposed to react when you told him that some guy asked you out on a date? How dare he! No one.... no one else deserved you, no one other than him. He couldn't allow this to happen, not on his watch. Some idiot wasn't going to just waltz in and lay claim to someone that Eddie viewed as His.

He got rid of the foolish man without any real difficulty. However, the fact that you kept getting asked on dates boiled his blood. So he kept disposing of any man who tried to win your heart, and every time you'd be in tears, wondering why those men always stood you up, and he'd take every chance to comfort you, which shocked you each time because of his usual behavior. But he'd wait, sooner or later you'd realize just how lucky you were to have earned his... interest.

"You know, you don't need those archaic Imbeciles! I mean... you already have a perfectly eligible bachelor right in front of you..."

"H-huh? What do you-"

"Me. Why don't you just put to rest all of these... foolish ideas of being with some boring, unintelligent, incompetent man, and be with me instead?"

"E-Eddie... I don't know... you're my technically my boss, wouldn't that be a bit weird?"

He stared at you in silence for a few moments before resting his hand on your cheek, caressing it surprisingly gentle.

"I promise you, My dear.... that it'd be perfectly fine... in fact, I'd make sure you were happy with me.... trust me..."

"Okay then.... I guess I could um... give it a try?"

You were then startled slightly by his lips suddenly crashing into yours, a desperate sense of need, passion, and repressed desires evident with how forceful and rough the kiss was, his tongue lightly ghosting over your bottom lip, almost demanding that you open your mouth for him. You're too dazed to really respond, though, which leads to him reaching up and yanking harshly on your hair, causing you to let out what sounded like a mixture between a gasp and a whine, he took this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, exploring it thoroughly, as if trying to map out everything. After what felt like quite a bit, he pulled away, wipping a bit of saliva off of his lips. His gaze met yours, a somewhat concerning glean in his eyes as he pulled you closer to him, his breath fanning your neck as he spoke.

"Say that you love me, tell me that I'm the only man that deserves you!"

"Y-you're the only man that deserves me, Eddie...."

You let out a surprised yelp as he picked you up in his dirty, grease, sweat, and dirt covered arms, quickly carrying you towards his room. He clearly was hoping that tonight wouldn't just end at a kiss for him.

[silverameco]

First Kiss - @wolfstarmicrofic - 733 words

Sirius had always dreamed of romance. For his family, feelings were nothing more than an inconvenience. Marriage was a mean to an end. Forming alliances, producing heirs. Love was out of the question. He wasn't even sure they knew what love really was. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew it himself. What he did know however was that the way they treated each other wasn't love.

So he spent his childhood dreaming of something else. Something more. Something worth risking everything over. The kind of love that made you willing to reach the moon just to give it to the person who stole your heart.

Of course, Sirius did know certain forms of love. The unconditional brotherly love for Regulus that he couldn't escape even when, at times, he had wanted to. The twisted love that tied him to his parents despite everything, the kind which made him feel like he didn't deserve anything more than the scraps of affection he wasn't even sure ever existed. The pure and joyful platonic love he felt for his friends, the way it flowed naturally between them. The safe and healing love that the Potters gave him without hesitation, welcoming him in their home.

But he wanted the romantic kind. The big, real love that the poets talked about. He wanted the passion, the butterflies, the blushing cheeks and the hitching breath. The kiss that said this. This is where I'm supposed to be. This is who I belong with. He wanted the electricity in his veins and the shivers on his skin. He wanted it all. Sirius was greedy and always wanted more than life offered him. He wanted to give his everything to someone and have someone's everything in return.

So, he tried. Oh, how he tried to find it. Desperately, almost. At seventeen years old, he was already known as the heartthrob of Hogwarts, having experienced his fair share of heated embraces in the arms of many girls, and some boys too. And yet, he never managed to find it. The everything he was looking for. The kiss that would shatter his world. Maybe he asked for too much. Maybe he dreamed too big.

He didn't even realize this love, too big for his brain to catch up on his heart, was already there. Right in front of his eyes. He didn't understand it until it happened.

They were hanging out in the deserted common room one night. Keeping each other company through their insomnia like they did sometimes. Remus was reading soflty to him while Sirius rested his head on his shoulder, dozing off on the sound of his voice.

When Remus stopped reading suddendly, Sirius raised his head to look at him, surprised. "Moony, why d'you stopped ?"

But he didn't respond, just fixed him with an intense stare and a slightly opened mouth. Sirius didn't know what it was exactly. Maybe the fireplace that made his eyes appear golden. Maybe the peace and quiet of the moment. Maybe the fact that they were so close they could count each other's eyelashes. He couldn't tell you who moved first. All he knew was that, one moment he was looking into Remus' eyes, and the next he closed his own to press their lips together.

That's when it happened. Everything he was so desperate to find, but better somehow. Remus' touch was both soft and demanding. Caring and passionnate. Chapped lips that felt and tasted like the sweetest thing. Their breaths mingled to form one and it was the only thing Sirius wanted to survive on from now on. A tentative swipe of tongue alight something in his guts that just needed a spark to burn.

Sirius thought it was the kind of first kiss that the poets sang about. A kiss that felt like lightning fell from the sky to strike him right there, in the arms of the boy who was here all this time and yet whom he had somehow missed. The boy he finally found when he never really lost him anyway.

A kiss that said

My Moon, I don't have to climb to the moon, you already gave it to me

and

Please, let me offer you all the fragile segments that weave my being in return

It was perfect. It was his everything. Everything he had dreamed of. Everything he wanted, and everything he already had.

[underaverageheight]

paint my love

hwang hyunjin x artist!gn!reader genre: fluff warning(s): none other than hyune being a bit of a crybaby

note: took me a while but i finally got to fully write out my little thought from here because tbh sending in asks to sage gets my brain going lol

word count: 2.1k omg

“Hey Bin! Um... can you do me a favor? Like a big, big favor?” Your best friend nodded eagerly, awaiting your words. "Can you... buy me a studio? Nothing huge. Just a studio?"

Changbin looked at you as if you were speaking gibberish. At this point, real gibberish would have made more sense. "Um. I love you but why? You have a studio and Hyunjin. Ask Hyunjin."

"Well, you see... I want to give him a new studio for our anniversary but I want to keep it a secret. A very secret secret and it’s not like I can drop a grand or two randomly and play it off." You looked at Changbin, reaching for his hand on the table. "I need you, Binnie."

He raised his eyebrow. "You need my money."

"Well... yeah. But I'm a good friend so I'll say I need you. Besides, I'll pay you back," Grinning, you gave him the best puppy eyes you could muster, causing him to groan in defeat.

"Fine." He pulled out his card. "For the love of this world, do NOT go buying a whole bunch of buildings. Okay? Ask Chan for his card if you're gonna do that." Changbin smirked and handed you his card before getting up to pat Hyunjin's shoulder, who looked at you with a puzzled facial expression.

Later that day, you spent your time sketching cherry blossom trees, scraps of your designs littered the floor of your shared room-turned-mini-studio, which was mostly filled with Hyunjin’s finished projects and some half-finished projects. With both of you being artists, many of your projects mixed with Hyunjin's. You tugged at one of his binders and flipped through the paints your boyfriend had bought or created. You found various shades of pink and red, ones you considered using for your project. After all, it had to be the most perfect anniversary gift for him.

"I'm home~" Hyunjin kicked off his shoes and found you scavenging through his binders and some of your folders. He gave you a quick peck on the top of your head. "Artistic rush?" You nodded and he chuckled, sitting down next to you. "What are you looking for?"

"Just some shades. I'm trying to find the nature catalog." Humming softly, you leaned against his shoulder. "I had a little thought." Laughing softly, you traced patterns on your boyfriend's thigh. "How was practice?"

"It was kinda fun today. We goofed off mostly and we were all okay with it. Even Minho was okay with it." Hyunjin tangled his fingers in the locks of your hair before reaching into a mess of binders and pulled a smaller one out. "Here."

"Thanks Hyunnie.” He hummed his acknowledgement, kissing your cheek again.

“I’m gonna shower and work on some things,” He got up and went to get his clothes from your bedroom. You, on the other hand, grabbed a spare bin, put the catalog, some paints you could easily find, and many brushes or various shapes inside. The rest of the day, you looked into multiple art studios, trying to find ones with a nice view and large windows. 

“This is the one.” You found a lovely, spacious yet cozy studio that faced the west, allowing one to see the prettiest sunsets from the room. Booking a viewing appointment for tomorrow, you quickly made another checklist; things to double check and look for to make sure what you were buying had the proper things. Grabbing your tote bag, a birthday gift from your boyfriend who painted delicate roses on the sides, you put the list in, your car keys, and your wallet with Changbin’s card inside. 

“As you can see, this studio has a smaller, more private office area with a lovely view of the city. It’s perfect for smaller businesses or artists or all kinds. Out here,” the realtor led you out of the little office to the outside space, “is the kitchen and a large open area here that can fit your various needs. Should it be a living room, meeting area, art studio based on your pretty bag there.” The woman smiled, gesturing to your tote bag. 

“It’s beautiful. May I check and look around the studio?” 

“Feel free to. I have another client downstairs so take as much time as you need,” The realtor smiled and left, going to the bottom floor to meet the client. Looking around, you checked for any damage, locating wall outlets, checking the space, checking the windows. Satisfied, you went down the many floors to find the realtor, going to make your down payment with Changbin’s card. 

You better love and use that studio to bits and pieces. Pay me back when you can :>

Texting Changbin back that you promise to pay him back, you drove home, catching Hyunjin on his way back to the house from a company dinner. Next week, you’d start the painting and prep. “Hi Jinnie! I finally figured out my artistic rush. So unfortunately I’ll be busy for a long long time.”

You giggled at the silly ferret’s antics. “Oh no! You’re going to disappear off the face of the Earth for a long time. When can I expect your kisses?” “Mmm… a week or two?”Jaw drop.

“Lord. Are you being summoned to paint down in the depths of hell? What are you painting? A skyscraper?” Hyunjin pounced on you, hugging you tightly and peppering kisses all over you. “Come back alive, my love.”

“Dramatic.” Laughing, you hugged him back, with a big grin, “I just wanna perfect this project. Besides, I literally see you everyday, angel.”

“Alright, alright fine.”

For a few days, you spent hours painting the walls, deciding on a green summery background, with faint mountains in the background. Coming home, you set your bags down, sighing, glad to be home. “Babyy!” Hyunjin comes to you, hugging and spinning you around with a wide grin. “You have green paint on your cheek… You’re really using that nature binder, huh?” 

You flushed a light pink, attempting to wipe off the dried paint. “Ah…” Laughing slightly, you rest your face against Hyunjin’s chest. Stilling slightly, Hyunjin brought his hands up to your head and your back, rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

A week later, you set the wet brush down on the paper, admiring your work. In the center of the wall was a grand cherry blossom tree, its branches stretching across the walls and parts of the ceiling. The white and pink blossoms stood out against the greenery, a flurry of floating blossoms seeming to drift in the wind. After hours of research, you found UV paint and glow in the dark paint. You outlined the tree and some blossoms. You added small details in your mural, working a lot later than you normally had, determined to finish this soon.

By the time you finished detailing, you gasped in wonder as the paint glowed brightly, seeming to shine brighter than the night life down below. The next and last day, you took the UV paint, marking up the mural with tiny messages. Satisfied, you sat on the couch, taking in the view of your finished mural. You were proud of the work you produced, stopping to admire it while you were cleaning up the studio. Before you left for the day, you left a little bag on the counter with a note. 

“Can you believe we’ve almost been dating for 4 years?” Hyunjin smiled as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you, blanketing you with his warmth.

“Speaking of which, I planned dinner at the restaurant we went to on our first date tomorrow.”

“Really? Do you think your message is still by that table in the corner?” Hyunjin’s eyes shined, recalling the memory.

On your first date with him, you both went to this small local restaurant. It was cozy yet elegant in its own way. After finishing your meals, you pointed at the wall next to the table, decorated with messages from its many visitors. “For good luck?” Hyunjin shrugged, pretending not to seem overly excited. “Sure.” You found an open area on the wall, scribbling the date. You thought for a moment before writing Y/n & Hyun - our first date ~ Hyunjin tried his best to hide his smile as you got up to use the restroom. Unbeknownst to you, he stood up and wrote a message of his own near the ceiling, convinced you’d never see his wish for luck. 

“Good morning darling. Happy anniversary~” You woke up to a decorated room, the walls of your shared room covered in many sketches and drawings. 

“What is this?” Walking over to the walls, you read off the writing on a smaller sketch. “‘The 73rd thing I love about you. Your sleeping patterns.’” The sketch depicted a person, presumably yourself, curled up like a koala. You laughed and looked at other sketches. “‘The 12th thing I love about you. Your hugs.’ ‘The 5th thing I love about you. Your smile.’ ‘The 1st thing I love about you. You.’ Aw Jinnie… I love it so much. It’s beautiful. I love you so much. Happy anniversary my love.” You hugged your boyfriend tightly, kissing him lovingly. 

“Where is it…” Your finger traced the walls, scanning for your message. “Found it! Right here, look!” You pointed at your faded handwriting, smiling brightly. You drew a heart near your previous message and wrote a new one. Happy 4 years to the one I love. “I don’t remember if you wrote one. I don’t think you did, did you?”

“I did write one. Honestly, I was completely head over heels for you when I first met you…So I wrote one in secret. Didn’t want to scare you away if you knew how much I cared about you.” Hyunjin blushed, looking away from you before searching the writing near the ceiling, pointing at the corner. I know it has to be you, so please let it be you. Underneath was a small cherry blossom, a symbol of when you first met Hyunjin. 

“Speaking of cherry blossoms… It's time for me to show you your gift.” Taking him to the tall building, Hyunjin was confused, unsure of what you could be referring to.

“Oh my god. Did you buy this building?” He paled slightly, making you laugh.

“Why does everyone think I’m gonna buy a building?!” Shaking your head with a smile, you took him up to the studio, placing the key in his hand. “Happy anniversary, darling.” Hyunjin nervously unlocked the studio, gasping at the sight.

“A new studio? For me? This is your gift? Oh my god.” You flipped the lights on. The mural was fully revealed, nearly bringing your boyfriend to tears. “I…” He rushed to feel the wall, tracing the blossoms. “Cherry blossoms. When we first met…” 

“This isn’t even the best part.” You grinned, relishing in how emotionally touched he was.

“There’s more?!” He nearly shrieked, trying to figure out the tricks you hid up your sleeves.

“Close your eyes.” Hyunjin hesitantly closed his eyes, anxious for the rest of your surprise. You turned off the lights, waiting for the paint to glow again. The low glow of the paint illuminated part of the room. “Open.”

Hyunjin stared, mouth agape at the glowing mural. Tearing up, he sniffled, coming to hug you tightly.“It’s beautiful. I love it so much. I… don’t even have the words to express how much I love this. It’s stunning…” 

“Go grab the bag on the counter.” Hyunjin reluctantly peeled himself off you, sniffling as he grabbed the small bag off the counter. “Go ahead, turn it on.” Reaching inside, he revealed a UV light. He turned it on, waving it around. “No you goofball, point it at the wall.”Slowly but surely, the UV messages you spent writing all over the mural revealed themselves. Your boyfriend was full on sobbing, sitting by the wall, tracing your messages with his finger. Looking back at you with tears streaming down his face, he made grabby hands towards you, making you come over to him, hugging him and laughing. 

“Don’t look at meee…” Hyunjin sniffled, wiping his face with his sweater sleeve as he read your messages aloud. “‘I expect my kisses in two weeks' time.’ ‘If you find this, I may or may not have used up all of your green paint.’” Hyunjin laughed, still crying as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much. I thought you bought me a whole entire building… Maybe I should do that. Buy you a building so we can paint every room, every wall, everything. I’m gonna paint the world for you.” Giggling, you wiped his tears, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Gonna paint my endless love for you.”

[abysshare]

Normally i don't do this because like. While I'm well aware i can have my own opinions, i still don't want to make anyone feel bad for me being a disliker ( maybe hater? ).

Spoilers / talking about the new Venom movie below. If you liked it I'm glad you did! If you want to explain in why in comments, feel free! /genuine

I'll start with: i had a bad-ish day so maybe everything soured my mood and i wasn't ready i. The end. I also picked the wrong ticket and had to watch it in 3D < not a 3D fan due to being sensitive to flashing lights.

What i did like:

Implications of being bonded since v1

Knull ( surprisingly, i hate the comic story though I'm gonna be so real. But its been awhile since i looked up the plot/story ).

Agony and the Christmas themed Symbiote

Horse.

Dancing.

The blue symboite and that fire symbiote ( so pretty?? I loved the different powers and such. I want to draw both of them ).

The symbiote hunter, shes gorgeous.

What i Did NOT like:

Toxin being erased entirely.

They killed of Carnage and Cletus in 2 so this whole thing flopped without them IMO

You can see where Disney or Sony whoever wanted this or that but when Tom or whoever didn't want it, it got scrapped and had messy left overs.

Too much action and too much comedy ( the dancing was fine, but the hippie family deal went on a bit too long imo ).

Why was Agony introduced but not the other three? Specifically Scream at least?

Knull having his own thanos moment for sony, a spin off or whatever they're doing.

Eddie's ENTIRE attitude.

That Montage was ASS. Hate that song too.

Too much going on imo

I would have loved to have a genuine queer moment, a kiss, a "i love you", literally anything. I can MAYBE understand if they tried but Sony or Disney said no ( fuck them ) but still. And no i was one of the few that hope there wasn't fucking or kiss with HARD tongue ( i am ace and also these two are my dads to me, it would've been awkward ). Yeah i see some people saying "Its textual" !!!

Yea sure thats nice but aren't you tired? It doesn't have to be queer baiting but like. I'm so tired.

Even if you remove that um? Its not.. that great.

I'm WILLING to watch it again and read positive sides. Because my mood just may have soured.

i think my biggest issue if i take everything away what i just said, is Eddie just going back to being annoyed at every little thing Venom does or wants. ITS OKAY to be concerned about being found by the hunter, but even before then hes just so done. And even during? He should've been concerned. Or Yeah he CAN be annoyed / irritated, but it should be with care. This felt like he was back to thinking of Venom as a tumor, something he just needs to get rid of.

It was vastly upsetting as someone who has partners. Like.. it would be okay if this was the second or first- but it isn't!!!!! And yeah couples fight, but they didn't even do that. Couples have disagreements! But they didn't even talk it out or anything.

Also like? One of my things that bugged me was, when Eddie was complaining about his feet, and we knew Venom couldn't fully take over..... why didn't Venom just yk. Cover his feet for him and walk? That would have been a subtle sweet gesture while they could've still been bantering and so on.

If they had like. Argued, fought, had an emotional moment at the end, Eddie was upset he never got to apologize- i could see it. But thats another thing- he wasn't even THAT upset...

Its fine to not be a super empathetic person, fuck i dont always cry appropriately either. But he didn't show Nothing and not in a "i'm a no empathy person" way.

Idk!!!!!!!! My brain is scrambled.

People have said a lot of what i have problems with already but idk i just!!! Feel the need to put it out there.

Also i missed the second end credit scene :,)

Note: I'm not angry or completely a hater. More so neutral and not a huge fan of some things.

[trickstarbrave]

hi im insane still so i wrote smth up

its not rly proof read. sorry abt that.

this is from @mulberrycafe's fic fool's prayer. i just have evil!voryn on the brain REAL bad.

Nerevar blinked. He was no longer in his office, but outside in a courtyard. It was…. Peaceful. The rushing anxiety of being in his office was being washed away by fluffy white clouds passing by. It wasn’t cloudy or with an ash storm blowing, as it usually was in Morrowind, especially after Red Mountain’s eruption. A few birds could be heard in the distance too, adding to the soft, peaceful atmosphere. 

Nerevar wanted to relax. He was tired. So very, very tired. Tired of running the country and fighting the council every step of the way. Tired of trying to make life better for his people and being blocked. Every time he wanted to try and do something good, there was endless squabbling. Distractions came up instead, as the houses fought with each other, refusing to put aside old rivalries for everyone’s benefit. It was like pulling teeth trying to get anything done--and when he did lose his temper, the councilmen pointing at him and blaming him. 

“It’s your fault Red Mountain erupted, when you destroyed the tribunal’s rule.” Some would blame. “Why haven’t the Good Daedra resolved it then? If there is mercy from them, they would have solved the problem. We could go back to VVardenfell. We could be a great nation again. But instead we continue to beg for scraps at the altar of gods. The Good Three have made their point clear: we are to suffer the trials. Therefore, everyone suffers with us. It’s naivety to presume we can help them with stupid acts of charity.”

He had no energy anymore. His limbs felt too heavy to move. Vivec said he admired Nerevar’s ability to always be optimistic and hopeful, but Nerevar was beginning to run out of steam. 

Things were easier, in the days of Resdayn; they had a common enemy to unite against, after all. The Great Houses could set their squabbling and infighting aside long enough to drive the nords out, and then welcomed the prosperity Nerevar brought afterwards as they rebuilt the nation. 

“Neht,” Nerevar heard Voryn call for him, and he refused to turn. 

He knew what this was. Another attempt to win him over. Another attempt to crack his resolve. Nerevar didn’t know how much more of this he could take. He didn’t know how many times he could drive him away. Nerevar hated how Voryn was starting to, in some twisted way, make sense. And even more importantly, Nerevar hated having to hurt the man he loved over and over, even if it was for the good of everyone. 

Arms wrapped around him again, a cold chill, as always. “You won't even look at me now?” Voryn asked, nuzzling into his hair from behind. 

“I’m tired of these games, Voryn.” Nerevar tried desperately to keep his voice level and firm. “I’m not changing my answer.” Voryn gave a dark, deep chuckle, the type of tone Nerevar adored. 

He was afraid if he turned around, he would crack. He was terrified if he looked at the face of his beloved, his resolve would crumble and he’d throw his arms around Voryn, kissing him for all he was worth.

“I’m not playing a game.” Voryn whispered softly in his ear, breath tickling the sensitive skin and making his ear twitch. “I want to give you everything you have ever wanted, Nerevar.”

“No, you--”

“I want to give you a peaceful country.” Voryn cut him off, continuing with that slow, deep voice in his ear, rubbing circles on his stomach. “I want to stop those councilors from using you… Because I love you.”

“This isn’t love!” Nerevar stressed, his hands shaking fists at his side as he actively fought the desire to sink into the embrace. 

“Yes, it is.” Voryn whispered again, sharper in his ear. “The love I have had for you for thousands of years.” Nerevar shut his eyes tightly now. “And I know you love this country, Neht. I’ve known all this time. That’s why I love it too. That’s why I want to help you.”

“This isn’t helping me.” Nerevar grit, fighting the urge to scream or sob.

“I want to give you so much more than just a peaceful country too, Nerevar.” That soothing voice was trying to melt the tension off his body, but Nerevar refused to relax. If he did, it would be over, he reminded himself. He couldn’t be weak in front of Voryn with what Voryn was capable of. “I want to soothe all your worries, love and support you in the way you deserve…”

Nerevar refused to respond. He couldn’t find the words--not when Voryn sounded so soft and sweet in his ear, whispering like a gentle lover. It was the same tone of voice he used to soothe all of Nerevar’s injuries in the past, the same tone when he reassured and comforted Nerevar, and the same tone he used when they would make love. 

“Ayem hardly even took care of you back then,” Voryn continued, now bringing one hand up to rub his shoulder soothingly. “But she at least helped you govern. Helped keep people in line.” Nerevar shivered slightly as he felt teeth graze his ear ever so slightly. “I can help you with that. I can keep the council in line… All as you will it, my beloved.” 

He knew it was a lie. A sweet, sweet lie. If it was Nerevar’s will, he wouldn’t have hurt the Good Daedra. If it were his will, Voryn would have stopped by now. If it was his will…

“I can even give you what she refused.” Voryn smirked against his skin now. “Love, devotion…” Voryn pressed a kiss behind his ear, watching it twitch again. “... And even a family.” 

Nerevar’s eyes shot open at that, his heart racing in his chest, only to find himself no longer in the courtyard, but inside the temple. It was in a well decorated room, quite, a tranquil warmth radiating throughout the whole room that tugged on his heartstrings. 

In front of him was a traditional chimeri hammock for infants, a little bundle inside it. Nerevar found himself unable to blink, his body all but screaming at him to move. His whole body shook and his legs felt weak, his heart beating even faster in his chest. 

“Don’t you want this?” Voryn asked, his voice soft and pleading now, almost saddened. “I can give you the family you wanted, Neht…” Nerevar’s hands unclenched as his hands yearned to reach out. “A beautiful family, as large or as small as you wish… Raised with love and care, in a country that is finally full of peace and prosperity…” His eyes remained fixated on the small bundle, slowly beginning to move. 

“Why don’t you hold our son?” Voryn asked him, and Nerevar found himself unable to stop his feet from moving, bringing him closer and closer as the infant began wiggling around and fussing in earnest, having woken up from his nap. 

In his arms, they felt even more real: alive and the perfect weight in his arms, filling him with warmth. Soft black waves were on his head, as he blinked up at Nerevar with large, blue eyes and giggled, reaching for him. Tears rolled down Nerevar’s cheeks as he leaned down to nuzzle against the baby, overwhelmed.

Nerevar wanted this. He wanted it so badly it felt like his chest was being ripped out. He wanted a family with the man he loved. He wanted children of his own. He wanted to just be selfish for once, and have something all to himself. 

When he was king in the past, he was denied being a father, despite how much he had always wanted to be. His marriage with Ayem, while politically beneficial, was strained in most of the personal aspects. Almalexia had her own lovers and concubines to tend to her, and saw little purpose in sleeping with Nerevar, even to produce a child. Even the Indoril council said they didn’t want to bother with having a child, not when they could pick a better heir that suited their political goals. Instead he was always just told to find someone else to have a child with if he wanted to be a parent that badly.

But he knew that wasn’t possible. He was king, yes, but he wasn’t of noble blood; he lacked the political power to fully protect them. Nerevar refused to selfishly have a child he knew he couldn’t protect and let them get hurt or killed just to spite him by some political enemies. 

And yet… That wish never truly died. That desire never went away. It was always there, in the back of his mind, gnawing at his psyche. He was tired of being king only to create more problems and enemies for himself. He was tired of fighting off assassins and attackers. He was tired of going to bed alone. He was tired of giving everything he had for nothing in return. 

And then the weight in his arms was gone, as Nerevar found himself not in a nursery but instead in complete blackness instead.

“No…” Nerevar begged, tears still rolling down his cheeks. It felt like his heart was being ripped out and crushed. It had been so real--Nerevar could still feel the phantom warmth in his arms, hear the sound of laughter. “Voryn, please--!” His arms instead curled up around him, trying in vain to comfort himself and failing as he openly sobbed. 

“Shh…” Voryn whispered, stroking his hair from behind. “Why don’t I give you time to think about my offer instead?” Voryn asked. Typically, Voryn was pushy in these dreams, trying desperately to make Nerevar give in. Now that he was falling apart in front of him, he seemed to be taking a different approach. 

Nerevar didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. Not when he was still grieving. Not when he was crying and sobbing, wishing more than anything that such a sweet dream was real. 

“Nerevar!” Nerevar’s eyes shot open again, tears still running down his cheeks, to see a Vivec staring down at him rather than the piercing red eyes of Voryn as he half expected. “Nerevar,” Vivec, seeing as he had finally woken him up, wiped the tears from his face. “It’s alright…” He murmured, trying desperately to soothe him.

Nerevar, his emotions still raw, wrapped his arms around Vivec and sobbed once more. 

He didn’t know if Vivec knew why he was crying. Nerevar was too ashamed to say, and too hurt to give a coherent answer even if he wanted to. 

He didn’t know how much more he could take of this, even as Vivec held him close, rubbing his back in slow circles, trying to comfort him. 

His heart was breaking.

[katyawriteswhump]

power of love, part 17

PREVIEW: "Steve does that twisty thing with his tongue that Eddie couldn’t stop dreaming about. He’s gotten his whole body wrapped tight round Eddie, legs hitched round Eddie’s hips. In the water, he’s weightless, and as for Eddie… Whoops, can’t help it, Stevie! Heaven exists after all, because Eddie’s gotten both his hands clamped happily to Steve’s butt, and he’s rutting against him, raising waaay more than a semi..."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 18

CW for temporary character death... and then steddie cuteness, promise!

Eddie POV continued

O’Sullivan regards Eddie like something he’s just scraped off the bottom of his boot, then turns about and grabs Steve’s drooping chin. “Tell us where the girl is, Harrington. Or Loverboy’s gonna wish he’s never been born.”

Eddie’s stomach performs a sickening flip. Steve twists from O’Sullivan’s grip, looks pretty much ready to spit:

“Okay, okay,” he says. “I know who you mean. I never saw her. Ever! I swear! She’s dead. That’s what I heard… uh… yeah. Dead. Right? Trust me, she was swallowed by that Upside-Down-gate-craziness. Happy now? HAPPY NOW?”

O’Sullivan sighs. Then backhands Steve, hard, around the face. The white of Steve’s eyes flash up. He slumps limply against the guy behind him. They let him slide to the floor, impacting with a soft thud.

“If I were you, Munson, I’d consider your answers more carefully,” says O’Sullivan, as casually as if Steve had failed a physics test.

Eddie is left alone, with Steve lying on the floor, slumped on his side. Time stands still. A yellow strip-light flickers. Eddie remains plastered against the wall.

As if moving would be to concede this is real.

Steve isn’t moving. Steve is completely motionless.

Steve is… 

After his second major concussion, Robin told Eddie, Steve wasn’t supposed to drink. But there was more to it, Eddie recalls. He can’t remember who spilled the rest, Steve or Robin, but Eddie knows—the doctor’s warning had been brutal. Any more head trauma, and Steve might have a stroke, a brain bleed, go blind, deaf, lose his memory, go mad. He could die.

A flash of wild terror spurs Eddie into action. He rushes to Steve, eases him over, gives him a little shake. “Steve? Steve!” He lifts Steve’s head and shoulders into his lap, cupping his face, jostling him gently. “You’re gonna be okay, Stevie. I’m gonna slay those son-of-a-bitches for this. Wake up. Wake up!”

He brushes the hair from Steve’s face. It’s so stupidly soft and warm, and his skin is warm too, hot even. There’s reddish marks around Steve’s temple and cheekbone where O’Sullivan struck him. “Not so bad, huh? C’mon. Wakey wakey, buddy.”

Eddie feels the blood trickling from Steve’s ear, mingling with the mud on Eddie’s jeans, before he sees it.

“Oh God, Baby, no, no, no, no, no.”  Eddie lowers his cheek to Steve’s lips. No breath. NO BREATH! He fumbles for a pulse, and…

Time passes.

Tears drench Eddie’s face then dry up then start again. He hugs Steve to him, rocking him as if that would help, showering kisses on Steve’s hair till it’s matted with tears.

Eventually, Eddie’s arms ache so bad he shifts position. He cradles Steve more squarely across his lap and notices the scrap of paper half-tucked in Steve’s pocket. It’s the same green paper that Steve wrote that douchey sucker-punch note on.

Not that it matters now. Nothing matters now. Eddie reaches for it and reads it anyhow. 

Eddie, I love you. Please don’t follow me. Steve x

The sourest tears yet flood his eyes. “I love you, too. I love you, I love you. We shouldn’t have worked. We should’ve hated each other's guts. But we did work, which was totally nuts. Jesus Christ, I loved you so much.” 

Talk about timing, Munson. Story of my life. Story of my fucking life.

He wishes those bastards would come in and finish him. The thought of a future without Steve is unbearable.

…

Steve POV

Steve’s been here before.

His pain dies in an instant. The blood-red veil lifts from in front of his eyes. That wordlessly singing voice trickles through the waters, reassuring him everything will be all right. 

This time, he sure as heck doesn’t buy that candy-ass bull.

He can see Eddie, though it’s like he’s peering at him through mists. Eddie’s pain, on the other hand, is as raw and real to Steve as a dagger twisting in his gut. He hears Eddie’s voice, too, shaken by endless sobs: “Jesus Chris, I loved you so much.”

“That past tense sucks, Eddie. I love you, too.”

Eddie can’t hear, of course. Even scarier, Steve sees his own body, snug in Eddie’s arms, and he sure as heck isn’t in it. The swirling blue fogs between them thicken, and he hears a trickle of water. No, no, no, no, no! Don’t take me away. Still not yet. Please? I’ve gotta get back to him! 

“You know what you have to do,” says that now-totally-annoying voice in his head.

Steve spins around. His spooky-ass fairy-water-god-spirit is floating around like a nerdy freshman with a crush on him. He raises some disturbingly translucent arms to the heavens. “You’re really starting to piss me off, you know that?”

“You know what you have to do.”

They sorta smile. He glares, while formulating a ballpark approximation of what’s supposed to happen next. Red tide rises, blue tide sweeps through these tunnels like a tsunami and BOOM washes these suckers to Hell. Or whatever. El comes back to Hawkins, defeats Vecna for good, saves the world.

He needs to channel his anger, feed that hate. One major problem:

“Hate to be a bummer, but I’m not being roped into your world of crazy. Not right now.” He plants his ghostly hands on his hips. “I can’t flush away the first guy who loved me back, like he was a dead goldfish or something.”

“You cannot drown him with love.”

“Seriously, if you don’t cut the cryptic bullshit, I’m gonna have to punch you.” 

“Your power never came from anger, Steve. You’ll do anything to protect them, remember? Anything… anything.”

“Huh?” He turns that one over in his mind. Actually, it makes some sense. He shrugs and peeps over his shoulder. A single glance at Eddie, hunched and miserable, growing ever more distant, and that burning core of hate within him fades. Something a shitload stronger replaces it.

That’s when he feels it. A strange drag from the depths of his soul, an irresistible gravity that—somehow, he knows this—draws every drop of water in Hawkins toward the tunnels.

Oh. Crap. This is gonna be huge.

He squeezes his eyes tight, concentrates hard. 

I’ll do anything to protect him. Anything. Anything… Jesus Christ, Eddie, I really hope this works!

…

Eddie POV

At length, a couple of O’Sullivan’s minions come in, grab Eddie by his arms, hoist him up. He clings to Steve’s cold hand, like a kid clinging to a broken toy, till he’s forced to let him drop. The door slams between them.

“You’re just gonna leave him on the floor?” He mutters it way too quiet, keeps on muttering, as if it would distract him from the searing pain in his heart. “My uncle, a ton of decent guys I know—they served their country. Did it for reasons that made sense to them at the time. Wondering how this makes sense to you? Murdering teens. Hunting little girls. Bet your folks are real proud.”

They frogmarch him back to that vast hall. One of them points to a tall, upright box. Screw it, it looks like a coffin! O’Sullivan stalks over, and a white-hot hatred seizes Eddie, teeth grinding, because he’s totally beyond words.

O’Sullivan points to the box. “We call this the chokey. I suggest you tell us everything you know, and fast, or you will be spending some time in it. We also have one with spikes. It’s called an Iron Maiden.”

That’s when Eddie totally cracks up. “Iron Maiden? Awesome!” He manages several twangs on an air guitar, before he’s grabbed again, mid silent power-chord. They can’t cut off his genuine if joyless laughter: “You couldn’t make this shit up! This is the end of the Twentieth Century, man! I mean, I’m a huuuuuge fan of Iron Maiden, don’t get me wrong, but… Oh my God, oh my God, this is fucking insane!”

O’Sullivan looks pissed, and Eddie is shoved toward the upright coffin. That’s the point where Eddie hears the deafening thunder of the approaching flood.

Panic erupts in the hall. A split second later, the wall of water slams into him and sweeps him along, completely submerged. Screw Iron Maiden—his lungs are caught in an iron clamp. He sees his captors in the water, floating, fighting, scrambling. Drowning! Eddie’s panic swells bringing the swell of darkness with it…

His hand is grabbed, then he’s tugged close, held tight. He breathes something far sweeter than air, because Steve’s suddenly there, and he looks fiiiine, apart from… Oh shit, his eyes are no longer brown. They’re a deep, swirling midnight blue, like a whirlpool that’s gonna suck Eddie in. Which he kinda does, and Eddie’s good with that.

Steve’s lips close over Eddie’s, and the kiss is mind-blowing. Almost instantly, the weight of life lifts from Eddie’s shoulders, sweet air fills his lungs, and everything rocks. Steve anchors them both, as the flood rushes by, allowing Eddie to get totally in to the kiss.

Oh yeah, Baby! 

Steve does that twisty thing with his tongue that Eddie couldn’t stop dreaming about. He’s gotten his whole body wrapped tight round Eddie, legs hitched round Eddie’s hips. In the water, he’s weightless, and as for Eddie… Whoops, can’t help it, Stevie! Heaven exists after all, because Eddie’s gotten both his hands clamped happily to Steve’s butt, and he’s rutting against him, raising waaay more than a semi.

The awesomeness is mildly interrupted by Steve’s voice in his head. “We have to finish this, Eddie. We have to get rid of these suckers, so Eleven can save the world.”

This should be shocking, but Eddie’s so punch-drunk on crazy he barely blinks. I think it’s kinda finished, thinks Eddie. Seriously, haven’t you drowned them already? Oh, and sorry ’bout the mahoosive boner.

“Back at ya, man. It’s not about killing them, tho’.”

Woah, you can hear MY voice too?

“’Course I can, dipshit! You’re part of this—haven’t you figured it out yet? It’s about love not hate, okay? You gotta help me.”

Help you with what, Babe?

“Um… I think I need to open a gate to another dimension.”

The Upside Down?

“Uuuuuh, not sure if I can do that one. It’s another one.”

Riiight. Sounds tricky. Can’t we just make out forever?

“Screw it—that could work.”

The kiss is already messy, sloppy, bordering on bruising, tongues scrubbing roughly, and teeth skimming tender flesh. As they happily suck each other’s faces off, Eddie senses a magnet-like current flowing between them, which doesn’t feel like Steve. It’s the stillness of ages, the brutal strength of nature, and a savage fury that escalates to a scream that’s definitely NOT Steve’s voice, though, actually, it might as well be:

“GET OUT OF MY TOWN AND STAY AWAY FROM MY KIDS!”

A mini thunderstorm whips up in Eddie’s head, crashing, cracking and fizzing like his skulls gonna explode. He enfolds Steve tighter than ever and kisses him like the fate of the world depends on it.  

Which it might. Which is totally rad. There’s plenty worse ways to save the world than kissing Steve Harrington.

A boom louder than an AC/DC concert shakes the crap out of him, and everything fades to black.

Part 18

...

I might be taking a short break before I write more of this... maybe not, but life is not kind right now... we'll see ;)

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

[blubushie]

Is there a reason you're so open about your sex life?

Yeah actually. I've had a lot of shit happen to me in my life.

The first person I ever had a crush on was another boy, and my best mate. We'll call him Nate. I knew I liked boys before I knew I liked girls, cuz up until I was 12 I'd never really spent time with girls at all—I didn't even know any girls my age—but I did have Nate. I met him when I was 10, and he taught me to ride horses and work stock. So growing up that was one helluva secret to hold. And he knew that I liked boys, and he jokingly called me a faggot and a queer and we laughed about it. And when other kids would hang shit on me at school, he didn't. In private, sure, with love. But in public, he stuck up for me. Cuz I was one of the Good Ones™, and his friend.

When I was 12 I was abused by a man in his 40s. And I heavily repressed my feelings towards other boys because I figured that that was the path it led down. "Gays are paedophiles. Queers wanna touch kids. They're dangerous." And I figured that if I just ignored it, I'd never end up a monster like he was. And when I told Nate about this, he said the same thing. "They're all like that. They're dangerous. You need to be careful or people will think you'll do the same. And I know you won't, cuz you're one of the Good Ones™. But you have to be careful." Nate was the first and only person I told about my abuse until it went public. He kept my secret for 3 years. He held me and I cried.

Nate was the last man outside of family who's held me. I haven't been held by another man since I was 12. I haven't been hugged by another man outside my family since I was 15.

At 14, I met another kid we'll call Lake. He was fun, and cheerful, and bubbly. And he was also gay. Very very openly gay. The feminine kinda gay. Talks like a girl kinda gay. Not my type, but I admired him. And I envied his bravery in being so out and not caring about what people thought of him.

Or the risk.

At 15, Nate got me drunk. We'd been working calves all day on the local station where his parents lived as hired hands. He snuck a slab from his parents' outshed on the station and we took our horses out and sat in the shade of a gum and drank. I'd never had alcohol before except at Mass, and I got pretty tipsy. And the sun was setting and it struck these orange streaks through his hair, and reflected real pretty off those eyes, and I decided he was very very handsome in that moment and in drunk brain, I should kiss him. So I leant over and pecked his cheek.

He went off on me.

It turns out that it's ok to be gay, as long as you're gay for the right people. And the right people is anyone who isn't the person you're talking to. Cuz he turned to me and I saw a rage in his eyes that I knew meant whatever kinda friendship we'd formed over 5 years, it was dead in the water the moment I kissed him. He looked at me the same way he looked at all the other queers, same way he looked at Lake, with that "I don't mind gays but I wish they'd be a little quieter about it" face. And then he slogged me.

We scrapped. And at first I thought he was just being an idiot, cuz I was 15 and he was 17 and we were both teenage boys and we biffed sometimes. But after a few seconds he got on top of me and stopped pulling his punches, and I was trying to tell him to stop and that I was sorry and he didn't. He kept hitting me. And he called me a faggot, and a queer, and a freak, and that there was something wrong with me and he had to beat the faggotry outta me cuz I had a skull too thick for my own good and if he didn't teach me a lesson now I'd do it again and the next bloke might just kill me for it.

He gave me a good slog to the side of the head and rung my bell real good, and then he kicked me in the stomach and got on his horse and rode back to the station. I laid there maybe ten minutes trying to breathe through all the blood in my nose and making sure he didn't knock any teeth out. That was the first time I really genuinely got a bashing.

I never talked to him again. I saw him once on station, and tried to talk to him and apologise, but he just walked away. I stopped visiting the station after that.

I made friends with Lake. We both went to Catholic school, so he got picked on a lot for being gay. But he never let it get him down. And I started standing up for him when I saw kids treat him like shit. Because he was my friend, and he was one of the Good Ones™. But deep down I envied him. I wanted to be him. I wanted to be able to walk with my chin high and strut like a fucken peacock knowing I'm hot shit and that nobody could touch me. But internalised homophobia is a hell of a thing, and deep down I also knew I'd never be like him. Because my issue isn't just me being attracted to men, but also being intersex and a dozen other different little things. But to Lake, that didn't matter. To Lake I was cut of the same cloth. We were confidants.

Eventually with time I realised that there's no such thing as "one of the Good Ones™." Being attracted to someone the same sex or gender as you isn't a fault. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. But I still hid it. I wasn't brave enough to be open about it, I was scared of judgement, I was scared of punishment for something I couldn't control, so I kept it a secret.

The third person I told was my girlfriend. She took it in stride. I thought she was afraid that I'd made her my beard when I was definitely attracted to her too, but she was actually the one who explained bisexuality to me. And everything clicked. But she was also aware that I was squashing down my attraction to men because I was afraid, so she made me watch Brokeback Mountain, and that's actually how I ended up genuinely coming to terms with my sexuality. I didn't want to be so afraid of loving that I'd never loved at all.

I never acted on my attraction, cuz I'm a loyal bastard, but when she and I split I stopped trying to hide what I am. I am a man who happens to be attracted to men. I am also attracted to women. And that's ok. That's not something to be ashamed of, it's not something I need to hide, it's not something I have to keep secret.

I'll never be the loudly out gay man. I'll never be the loudly out bisexual. I don't wear pride pins, I don't flaunt my sexuality, I don't wear rainbows. If anyone looked at me they wouldn't assume I like men, let alone immediately know.

I'll never be like Lake. But I don't have to be like Lake. I just have to be me. And through talking about my experiences, maybe some other young man who's in the same shoes I used to be in will look at me and realise that all he has to be is himself. And if that man likes men, then so be it.

[ziusik]

fic writer meme!

i was tagged by @englishsub, thanks, pal!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

121, which is...a lot, but I've been posting to AO3 since 2009, so I guess that explains it.

2. what's your total ao3 wordcount?

2,201,443 words

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Currently? None. I went through a flash of a brief return to My Chem, which was SO fun, but currently I am fandom-less & am doing my best to be okay with that. I'm refilling the well by reading lots of books and allowing my fields to lie fallow for the time being.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lead Me On Through (canon-era Wangxian practice kissing)

Accidents Will Happen (Wangxian canon-era mpreg)

A Sure Thing (modern-era Wangxian sugar daddy AU)

You'd Break Your Heart to Make It Bigger (canon-era Wangxian soulbonding)

On The Way Home (modern-era Wangxian mpreg)

5. do you respond to comments?

I do at first, and then I fall off it and feel bad. So, so many fics where I responded to the first, like, 6 pages of comments, and then never went back to respond to the rest. Mea culpa, but it gets overwhelming after a while.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably lullaby (SHL) because it's Wen Kexing grieving.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Honestly, the rest of my fics all have very happy endings. In terms of the most, like, traditional happy endings, I'd say probably On the Way Home and A Sure Thing, but I think the most hopeful one is actually in estuaries, the break-up/make-up modern-era Wangxian.

8. do you get hate on fics?

No, never. I once got a shitty comment, I think. That's it. I've been very lucky.

9. do you write smut?

Consistently.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you have written?

I don't, actually! When my brain is occupied with one fandom, that's all it can take.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know, but it might have happened and I've never found out, who knows.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, frequently, and it's been amazing. I especially love it when they get translated into Russian, because I can read them in translation, which is VERY cool.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, Becoming Joan with @theopteryx, which still holds a special place in my heart. I'd write with B again in a heartbeat.

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

God, this is hard, because they are all my children, but considering that I just went through an absolutely insane out-of-the-blue My Chem renaissance, I'll say Frank & Gerard, because they are, apparently, a constant. Wangxian is a very, very close second.

15. what is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't have any! In all my time writing, I've not finished one (1) fic, a wangxian office AU where I wrote myself into a corner and realized I'd have to rewrite the whole thing so I scrapped it and am very comfortable with that decision. Otherwise, it's mostly original stuff that's sitting there unfinished and making me feel inadequate.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Writing dialogue, I think, as well as intimacy and closeness, emotional or physical.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. Plot, plot, plot, as well as writing high stakes - that's definitely a weakness of mine. I have a hard time putting my characters through the wringer because I'm a softie, but to get a compelling story (especially an original one) you gotta do it, and so I think that's a real weakness.

18. thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

As long as you know the language or get a native speaker to help you, I'm all for it.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, back before the fifth book came out - you know, in pre-historic times.

20. favorite fic you have written?

Of all time? Man, that's hard. You know what, I'm gonna come out of left field and say Simmer Down and Pucker Up, which is a Raven Cycle fic from many, many years ago. I'm still very proud of capturing Ronan's voice.

Tagging: @brooklinegirl, @airinshaw, @phneltwrites, and @dulosis!

[bylertruther]

no cause the last anón is so right. I scrapped a 50k byler fic because I actually got worried people might call me weird or a freak like they do others. I was on twitter when the whole fiasco went down and it pissed me off but if you even tried to speak there were so many accounts saying you were “speaking over minors” and calling you a predator/pedophile. So many of my moots deactivated bc of the hate- they eventually started attacking people for their ages alone saying it was weird that 20 year olds theorized and talked about byler. Literally word for word “you’re a freak if you’re 20 and read byler fics. Why are you fantasizing about two little 14 year old boys making out” if they would take a step back and think that maybe people are so interested in this relationship is bc they see their younger selves in these two characters then maybe they wouldn’t say such stupid shit. Anyway sorry for ranting I just have been fuming since that whole thing happened. I just wish they would take a step back and stop and think about why they see a kiss between two boys written and immediately shout creep.

oh no, anon! i'm so sorry to hear about your fic & your experience. i hope you feel comfortable enough to post it one day, if you still want to. 🥺 and don't ever apologize for expressing yourself!

not to be a cunt, but i am a cunt, so, ahem. from the bottom of my heart... fuck them kids. 🫶 i literally do not give a single shit about any of the ""discourse"" they inflict on us all. "speaking over minors" why are you even speaking to begin with, huh? 🤨 why are you buzzing into an adult's space and picking a fight when a) literally no one fucking asked you to, and b) you're just going to cry "waaaaah but i'm a minorrr :(" as if you're somehow the victim in this situation after they dare to defend themselves against your serious and unsupported allegations? be normal or piss the fuck off and do your homework.

and why do people take them seriously? disregarding the fact that anyone of any age can be a shipper & the awful homophobia laced in such rhetoric...

this is the internet. no one owes you shit & the wild web will never, ever cater to you. you need to curate your own space and protect yourself. this is, like.. basic shit. like, bare-fucking-bones basic shit. it's not anyone else's responsibility but your own. they taught me that in school, my parents told me that, and also i have a functioning brain that can come to that conclusion, too. people need to stop pretending like what these people are asking for—which is your silence and your shame—is reasonable. it's not. content gets tagged, there are multiple extensions to blacklist any tags you don't like, some of it gets put behind a privacy wall, block buttons exist, many websites have filtering options, and so on and so forth. there are multiple measures people can take to both find things and avoid them. and a lot of the time, content is something you have to seek out yourself. so, if you don't like it, why did you click on it? why spend any time on it when you could've just backspaced? how is your ineptitude anyone else's problem?

also, people need to stop throwing the words pedophilia, pedophile, and predator around. you're being an insensitive jackass when you do that. someone writing about two fictional characters is not abusive scum of the fucking earth. you're watering those acts down and showcasing your ignorance for the world to see when you throw their names around carelessly. a child predator does awful, sinister, repulsive things to real life people who did not deserve that. someone writing a first kiss or practice kissing fic is not anywhere near that and i'm tired of people pretending like this is an okay thing to say or even think. just shut the fuck up and stop saying those words if you don't actually understand the gravity of what they mean.

another thing: a lot of these people aren't just kids. grown folk fall for the same shitty rhetoric, too. it's all just groupthink and herd mentality. no one wants to get attacked so they just repeat the same shit without thinking about it beyond "protecting" themselves (which is senseless as well because conditional acceptance is not true acceptance, but i digress). this fandom would be in a much better place if people were willing to stand their ground and defend their friends when this stuff happens. it gets worse and worse if you just turn a blind eye to it and fall in line. we're all waking up and finally seeing the consequences of that now.

of course, this doesn't really apply to when you're getting attacked by hundreds of people. that's... just shitty and hard and demoralizing. i'm not victim-blaming, because no one wants to be on the receiving end of that and i know that you can't control what others do.

my argument is that it gets to that point because the fandom as a whole just lets it slide by never holding the right people accountable for their actions. they allow the needless bullying to happen. they allow the rhetoric to get crazier and crazier. they allow people to get fucking crucified for shit that isn't even remotely inappropriate. they reblog posts they don't believe in because they don't want to be the odd one out and get accused of something by someone with more followers than them. it's just... we, as a whole, need to support each other more and put our foot down when shit like that starts happening.

it isn't normal. it isn't okay. it hasn't ever been okay.

like... i KNOW that you KNOW that it isn't weird for them to kiss, for people to want them to kiss, or for people to make them kiss in their creations. i KNOW that you KNOW that it isn't weird for anyone of any age to enjoy a love story of any kind. we know these things. some of us just pretend like we don't online for whatever fucking reason. and i don't get it! i don't get why they would do that and willingly allow this place to become worse for it. you don't get anything good out of that.

also, a lot of those people are being trolls. they get a kick out of attacking people as a group, because that's the only time they feel brave and the only way they get attention in life. they don't think before they say things, because they don't see you as a human being—you're just pixels on a greasy screen. they use catchy social justice lingo to make what they're saying sound like something you should support, but at the end of the day, they're literally just gussying up the same right-wing shit we've been subjected to for ages. it's regressive rhetoric that's clear to see once you've allowed yourself to see it.

like, i agree with you. i do. you're absolutely, undoubtedly right in what you say, but... i just can't bring myself to argue that, because it's in response to what was a senseless attack to begin with. and we shouldn't need to defend ourselves and our communities against what isn't true.

homophobia, bullying, and trolling are irrational, illogical pursuits and i can't stand the idea of treating them with any ounce of seriousness in this context. to apologize would be to accept their absurdity and validate their accusations—accusations we know in our heart of hearts to be incorrect and baseless. and i won't ever do that! i won't give them that satisfaction and i wish others wouldn't either.

they keep doing this, because they haven't met any opposition yet, because we keep acting like we have any reason at all to feel shame for wanting stories about people like us, about something as basic and universal as love and connection. they don't care about our reasons. they don't care about our defense of ourselves. it's not ever about us. this is their cry for attention, good or bad, at our expense and they need to be starved out already.

like.. this is just unsustainable. it's mind-boggling and i remember kicking and screaming about it months ago in what felt like an empty room. and look at where we are now! we're already at the point where you can't win in any kind of way no matter what you do. you can't age them up, you can't leave them as they are, you can't ship them if you're older than eighteen, you can't write AUs, you can't write canon compliance, you can't write canon divergence, you can't make them kiss, you can't make them anything more than friends but you also can't make them not-friends, etc etc. we've officially been shoved into the "fuck it, we ball" stage, because this is a pissy fandom and you are never going to please everyone so you may as well just do whatever the fuck you want.

i sound soooooooo unbearably preachy in this response lol, but like... literally... all we have is each other! we all love byler and we're all here to have fun and find like-minded people. we can't keep acting like this in-fighting lunacy is reasonable and just a difference of opinion, or like it's based in any kind of sense at all. we know that it's okay to ship byler at any age. we know that it's okay to have fun and enjoy ourselves. these people want to make us feel bad. they want to silence us. why let them and give them that satisfaction? why is what they want more important than us and our happiness? i hate the idea of anyone ever feeling any kind of shame or fear over something as innocent as this. i hate the idea of them winning by getting into any of our heads like that. i just hate it.

now, this last bit is specifically for you, anon, but it goes for everyone else, too: please, please, please, i am holding your hand in both of mine and begging you to not let anyone take away the things that you love and bring you joy or your wonderful creations that you've put so much of yourself into. i promise you that there will always be people who will see you, understand you, and cherish what you have to offer, and they are the ones that matter most (after you of course hehe). we all have to find our people and just go crazy together and block out everything else. that's the only way to get through this without getting burnt out. 💛💙

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~

Hello my friends <3 Been tagged by @thequeenofthewinter to participate in WIP Wednesday Wife Worship Wednesday! I never get to play this because Nyenna and Athis have... so, so many problems. But today we do, because Nyenna is dreaming. Having brain nonsense, really. But first, tags.

Let's go! Tagging the most esteemed @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @rhiannon1199, @snippetsrus, @orfeoarte, @inquisition-dragonborn, @the-storytellers-seer, @archangelsunited and @polypolymorph!

Below the cut, part of Chapter 28 from The World on Our Shoulders.

---

She heard the wind before she felt the morning mist on her skin. Things were slowly greying, like a light after she’d hidden under her covers. The sun, maybe, though she couldn’t recall when last she’d seen it. It hid behind clouds, mimicking her own hesitation. She opened her eyes, not having realized they’d been closed before. Whatever this was, with how quickly the image changed, she was thrown off balance at best. But the mist — yes. This felt familiar. Something like Whiterun, out by the river. Yes. The tundra cotton. She could see it now. She could feel her hands and feet where they’d only been vague concepts before, and liminal ones at that. She sighed and flexed her fingers. She’d never seen Skyrim in the height of summer, but she’d always imagined it like this — warm, plenty of flowers. Even bees buzzing, working as if all was exactly as it had always been and not this odd dream-version of things. Nyenna turned her face to the sun, let herself bask in its warmth as if she was one of the scraggly trees which dotted the landscape. She reached her arms toward it, and a dusty blanket fell from her shoulders with a strange, muffled, heavy sound. “What are you doing?” came a voice. Familiar, but distant. Something ached in her chest at the sound. Athis. Gods, she missed him. Her heart hurt trying to decide if he was really here or if this was some cruel madness. Likely the latter. She turned anyway, her grey mage robes billowing in a warm breeze that cut across the plains. He was as beautiful as she remembered — all the stress gone from his eyes, none of the weariness held in his shoulders or jaw. The weariness she’d caused. “Waiting for you,” she felt herself saying, though this seemed like a lie. He accepted it easily. He ran a hand through his ginger hair, ebony mail gleaming in the summer sunlight. She closed the distance between them and crushed into his embrace, heedless of heavy layers of metal between them. He didn’t say anything, only shifted to hold her against his chest. He smelled of mead and snowberries, like he always did. The memory struck her like steel against steel. Like she’d only dreamt of leaving, and she would wake up any moment now, wrapped in his arms, skin against skin. “I waited so long,” Athis said, voice quiet and somber, incongruous with the life that thrummed through this place, like the cry of Nirnroot at the river’s edge. “I’m sorry. I was on my way back to you,” Nyenna said, and somehow, that too was a lie. She tried again, forcing the words from her throat, which still hurt. “I miss you.” “Do you?” Athis asked. Not sarcastic, nor accusatory. A question, which needed an answer. A real one. “Of course.” He accepted that, too, and kneaded the muscle of her shoulder blade as he held her. He’d looked off into the distance, eyes focused on the mountains or the clouds. Mist gathered on his beard, his armor; he seemed like a permanent fixture here, rooted deep into the soil, never to be cut down. And she loved him. The ache of it was tearing her apart. She’d do anything at all — anything — for this to be real. For this image to love her back. She looked at him and felt rootless. Unmoored. A scrap of parchment fluttering in an ethereal breeze, belonging nowhere and to no one. He took her face in his hands, expression still oddly distant, eyebrows knit in confusion. He kissed her and her eyes fluttered closed. This was was right. If she had to be lost in a dream, then she was glad it was one of Athis.