#anyway im just going insane ignore me thanks

[timelesslords]

i might just have 3 different types of compounding brain rot rn but tommy is so antigone coded actually

[myoonmii]

I keep thinking about Merlin’s love for Arthur and how it’s so clearly portrayed in the show to the point that it practically drives the plot of the show. However when it comes to Arthur’s love for Merlin it’s more subtle and sometimes difficult to even grasp, and I started thinking why that was, aside from the obvious fact that Arthur has a lot of trouble expressing his emotions affection or otherwise. I think it also lies in the fact that Merlin knows Arthur intrinsically throughout the show; he is one of the closest people to Arthur, and sees him for who he really is. Arthur admits as much.

Sure, Arthur knows Merlin but the main part of the plot is that he really doesn't know Merlin. Merlin wants him to desperately understand him and “see me for who I am” but he can't yet. And I think this subconsciously creates a barrier in the way in which Arthur can care for Merlin, and how Merlin can let himself be seen by Arthur.

Which is why I think he was also so hurt when the magic reveal happens because more than the betrayal of Merlin having magic, it was the betrayal of Merlin not letting Arthur see him for who he really is and for hiding a main part of himself. Arthur says it himself “why did you never tell me” that’s what hurt him the most.

I think the most damning piece of evidence for this is the fact that while we see snippets of Arthur’s feelings for Merlin thought the show, the biggest signs are in the last episode after the magic reveal; in which he finally gets to understand Merlin, and this time REALLY know Merlin, and as the barriers of what held them back from understanding each other truly fall away, Arthur evidently “falls in love with Merlin all over again”. We see him actually express himself to Merlin.

This is another reason why I think if anyone was ever to create another season of Merlin after Arthur’s return, it’s physically impossible not to make it about Merlin and Arthur acknowledging their feelings for each other. Because there is no way forward without them acknowledging how deeply they care for each other, obviously anyone is free to argue what kind of love that is, but its impossible not to see the deep love there either way.

They always knew they loved each other, just maybe never realising how much and what that means, because its almost second nature to everything that they do.

[faunandfloraas]

do you have an ult bias, ult biaswrecker, and/or ult "lives rent free in your head"? 🐨

I identify as bias fluid. Ignore all my posts and behaviours ☝️

[waterfallofspace]

So, I've been working on my OC's again, and honestly I'm just having such a fun time flushing them out into (hopefully) believable humans~~

Annddd, not that I expect anyone to really care, but if I was gonna share them, and you were going to care, what would you guys want to see first?

[ohdeerfully]

hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️

what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰

Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!

Be Back Soon (i)

alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.

“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.

Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”

“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.

“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.

“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.

You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.

“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.

Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.

“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”

Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.

“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.

Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.

You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.

Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.

“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.

He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.

You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?

Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.

It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.

“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.

“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.

Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.

You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.

You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.

“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.

You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.

“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”

Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.

He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.

“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.

Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.

“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”

“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.

“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 

You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.

“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”

How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.

You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.

Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.

“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”

Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.

“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”

Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.

He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.

He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.

Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 

“Did he do that?” He asked. 

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 

 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 

 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 

It was fake as hell, but it worked. 

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  

 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 

xXx 

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 

They really were looking for someone. 

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them. 

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 

[lostgirlinthewoods]

CRAZY STUPID LOVE | park wonbin smau

18. eunseok's pov .｡.:*☆

ignore timestamps unless otherwise stated.the swimming terms im using in the series are the words used in my local university. it may be different from where you came from so please bear with me.

notes. i apologize for the inactivity, i've been very busy 🥹🥹 been in uni for only two weeks and i already had like 3 exams this week alone 🥲🥲 updating this fic is what kept me going until the weekend honestly. anyways, i hope you like this update 😍

back . masterlist . next

pairing. guitarist!park wonbin x athlete!fem!reader

synopsis. lee y/n, a competitive swimming athlete, just wants to finish her degree as a scholar. no drama. no distractions. and certainly, no romance. park wonbin, a music prod student and the siren’s guitarist, just wants to make music. no crazy fangirls in line to date him. no insane dms from random people declaring their love for him. and certainly, no dating. imagine the shock on y/n’s face when she received a message from her brother, anton, asking “since when did you and wonbin started dating?”

genre. social media au, college au, fake dating, fluff, crack

status. ongoing.

taglist. closed. reached maximum mentions allowed.

@molensworld @wonychu @yoursyuno @siuewnb @gyehyeonist @binoyu @secretiny @started-with-f-ends-with-uck @seokton @fae-renjun @nujeskz @i03jae @daegale @kyusqult @riki-shenanigans @revehosh @nctrawberries @wonbins-black-cat @parkwonbinie @saranghoeforanton @tommina @chuutaroo @000rpheus @p-d1ddy @starwonb1n @ikiqui @taroddori @blossominghunnie

@aloverga @brachioswrld @toriblogkk @miyawwn @intakstars @naviiy @bebubilu @soheendo @otblous @katarinaesqa @intakstars @yla-aira @i1uvc4ke @maleegayuh @renjuneoo @whoisgwyn @hakkkuu @endtostartbreathin @yngjngwon @flaminghotyourmom @deonuism @film-sea @babigriin @ssweetreveries @bunni

@onlyhyunjin @adoresoapy  @donutswjam @dearestjake @icyona

asks. for any thoughts, messages, and feedbacks; or even just for a conversation.

likes, reblogs, comments, or any type of engagements are appreciated. thank you <3

© lostgirlinthewoods. Do not copy, steal, or translate any of my works. 

[staraxiaa]

sunflowers, the afterword:

author's corner/first thoughts.

okay. so. i am insane. i am a god. i just wrote 18k words for a fic that i thought of, planned, and created fully in less than two days, bc someone said i like to make ppl suffer and yes i do. but then i was like, i am GOING to write fluff and i took it personally. to that one reader, thank you!! anyways. i wrote this with the intent of using the prompt "you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" and barely even ended up using it. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i hope it doesn't flop but also it's okay if it does bc i literally spent almost 48 hours brainrotting and word vomiting like it's out of my brain now and this feels glorious. it was random unfiltered thoughts and grinding away at 3am until i am empty. no thoughts left in my head. can you see? i could eat the world raw, the itch has been scratched. the sheer amount of motivation i had w this fic is never happening again. cheers! will update as i think of things! sorry to anyone who ends up reading this fully. i have been unreasonably fixated and have brainrotted over this for two hours, inclusive of sleeptime. while sleeping. i kid you not. i would wake up and something would click and i would hop over to the laptop and fucking grind away i am so sick of myself

unwritten scenes, headcanons

you guys are 20. you haven't started dating yet. you're a doctor. you guys are yelling at each other. you say 'you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.' katsuki's so angry that he does. ⇁ this was the original ending btw but i thought this one kinda fit better he brings you sunflowers sometime. real ones. he's sneezing all the while. you take one look at him and you die of laughter. he's still sneezing. you tell him: you know i actually didn't even care about them until i found out you were allergic. ⇁ if i could write nsfw i would do it here like dude do u see the vision omfg a whole side plot where he's like what the fuck do you mean you weren't dating deku. you're like. what the fuck. are u stupid. someplace where you actually address how you treat midoriya, his lack of a quirk, and how you stood by and watched it all happen ua sports festival. you kick everyone's ass. #you have been trained by eraserhead and you are super duper cool i also don't remember if i included this, but: your mother asks you after the first evening. "you're not really friends are you." you say: "nope!" and it is the happiest she has ever seen you. the ua boys try to flirt with you and get hurt really stupidly a lot on purpose. you wonder why they've stopped showing up. it's bc katsuki gives them a whole earful. and you're like bitch what the fuck im a doctor and and hes just tsundere about it first kiss scene instead of the ending where he's like you care and you're like of course i do??? what the fuck?? are u stupid?? you guys start yelling at each other and you're both acting like ur 2. he calls you stupid and blind. you call him ugly. he's so mad he literally just lurches forward and kisses you. it's awkward and messy and you guys are so mad at each other. you literally headbutt him in the face. ah young love. ⇁ this was another alternative ending more exploration behind reader's character, her insecurities, and about some of the stuff i info dumped before the start of the katsuki povs? i feel like i didn't handle that as well as i could have, but i also didn't want to go on 10 billion tangents for things that had very little relevance to the story. i also think the transition to the last scene was a little abrupt, but tbh at that point i was just so ready to call it like. i just didn't see the point. i think it would have made for a more natural reading experience, so here's the tea: he's proud of u but u guys are angsty and ignore each other until after training camp. [more brainrot pining moments]. if i had to write the above scene, i think i'd do something along the lines of: you're first aid relief at the sports festival, not actively participating. dunno if you'd be nearly as badass, though. you definitely get pissed when they muzzle katsuki and probably get rly mad but ofc u cant show it. so u just unmuzzle him and walk away and hes staring after u. this is ur ??? elsa arc? i dont remember the disney princess. the training camp is torture. aizawa makes u run with them. you tell him straight up that u hate his guts. he grins like that is the best thing anyone has told him in his life. katsuki definitely blows up some earth monsters for u. but while ur not looking. he's angsty like that. the bath scene? oh lord u just know he blows mineta up. maybe he lowk fucks it up too and you have to heal it! the potential HAHAHA. i dont know how you end up getting kidnapped, but id probably just bullshit a reason like ur the #1 healer in the world hurr durr and afo wants u! idgaf if the plot makes sense or not this is entirely secondary to my scheming. katsuki just about loses it when he hears you're one of the targets -> how you get kidnapped? idk. you're not a remedial student, so you're probably participating in the game (odd number of ppl right). unsure of how i'd handle the news of your kidnapping: just know katsuki loses it again. for like the 5th time. yipppeeeeee

character notes, thoughts

your quirk is literally just you take people's injuries into your own body and heal it yourself. you're superhuman. i put 2 thoughts into this: 1) you're a healer and 2) i like cool characters. congratulations. you have now been born. i don't even remember if i kept the shouto scene. but anyways i think my bias was showing. just had to throw him in there. also the kuroo mention. sorry i'm totally normal and i mean it ⇁ btw i love you all (everyone who likes/interacts with my fics) but i joke to my friends everytime someone interacts w my first bakugo/midoriya ones from lacuna bc guys!!! my shoto fic is RIGHT THERE!!! the baby that launched the entire collection. please show him some love this reader is probably one of the favorite ones i have written, more of an oc at this point i think, and i wasn't expecting her to grow on me so much. but lowk i love her and am so proud of the way i wrote her growth!! i do feel like i wrote her very soft, but i hope her flaws were made very clear⏤ she is meant to be a sort of unreliable narrator, so she also is overly critical of her own, but there were several things that were not addressed as i was writing, particularly concerning midoriya. (quirk, the bullying, bystander's guilt.) however, i think that including them would have made me go off on a tangent, and detract more from the main point of the story i also do think i wrote katsuki a little ooc, if only because i didn't see the point of including what's already there in canon. sorry. my brainrot did not extend that far, and by the end of this, i was literally ready to drop. his perspective isn't meant to be all-encompassing (in the story, it may seem like it purely bc of how i paced it) but those are meant to be like. random thoughts that appear in several scenes. reader does not have bakugo living rent free in her head 24/7, and neither does he. they're just stupid and pining and i just wrote all the moments in my head where they do.

[the-s1lly-corner]

HI there, hate to bother you but i was wondering if you could do the amazing digital circus head canons for a gn! reader who acts a lot like ena

if you have never heard of it you can check on the ena wiki but i would really love if you did something like this so thanks

TADC x ENA type!GN!reader

typically i would do all the characters in one post, but its starting to get late and tumblr wont let me save half answered asks in my drafts for some reason TToTT so im gonna split the cast in half, if you want the rest of the characters you can send in a second ask so i can remember to do everyone else :0! also my apolocheese for any personality mistakes, i think i watched ena a long time ago but was confused/didnt watch the whole thing so uh uh!! relying on a character wiki for this (on that focuses on season 1 so uh uh, idk if that will impact anything) little bonus bonus incorporating enas color thing into this cuz uh we can say its digital world stuff ooo that gives me an oc idea; oc whos like the mayor from nightmare before christmas who has a spinny head/face thing that relates to their emotions

CAINE:

caines is going to be shorter because hes just your number one fan regardless of your personality, in fact he probably has a silly shirt with your face on it somewhere

will do everything in his power to make sure youre happy and content, and will do everything to cheer you up when you switch over to your sad side

takes you to wherever it is that he 'sleeps' when you get overwhelmed by stuff and keeps you there until both of you are sure that youll be okay and your blues are long gone

you and him easily match energies, sometimes he will even try to one up you with using fancy intricate words

POMNI:

writing pomnis part first but oh funny is it that pomni and ena have the same VA

anyways

absolutely loves you, but she is so so worried about stressing you out and switching to your 'sad form', tries to (often times unsuccessfully) cheer you up

honestly you both need a break, things in the circus are hectic and insane, and considering pomni just got here she is going to need your help to get used to things

not much to be said since i think pomni is another character i struggle to write

JAX:

initially teases you for how fast you switch up, its almost like gangle being more upbeat with her comedy mask and more sad when its broken

tones it down a little when you explain you cant really control it whereas gangles case is just her being more confident with the comedy mask (at least thats my hc)

sometimes give you weird looks when you use an unnecessarily long set of fancy words to describe something mundane

bro is fighting the urge to mimic it

surprisingly does the kind thing, he takes you off to the side when something stresses you out so you can have a minute to compose yourself

RAGATHA:

optimistic sweetheart meets ray of sunshine, you two are an unstoppable force of good and kind of rub off on some of the others

similar to jax when you get stressed out or upset about something, usually when its an in house adventure, she sweeps you to the side and helps calm you down. she probably knows some breathing techniques, i think

ignoring the fact they probably dont need to breathe but thats asides the poin

[babybatss-blog]

Heyyyy! How’s everything going?

If you’re up for it, I’d love to see a Sirius Black x fem reader where she’s sick or injured and he takes care of her.

Totally understandable if this doesn’t inspire you though!

Have an awesome day 🥰

DELUSIONS AND DAYDREAMS

Sirius x f!reader, 1000 words

a/n: hey anon, im doing good thank you! I hope everyone is also doing well :) this was such a cute lil fic, I hope it’s the right dosage of fluff mixed with angst for your day <3

c/w: friends with tension. Reader has a twisted ankle, smoking, sexual connotations and a confession of love.

He warned you not to do it, he really did. When you said you were going ice-skating on the black lake with your friends he told you that you’re “too clumsy for your own good”, but due to your unresolving stubbornness you went anyways. So he’s not surprised when Marlene messages him a few hours later, bluntly stating that you “twisted your ankle and need someone to come and get you.”

Without a second thought he walks down to you, throwing some weak and easily transparent excuse over his shoulders to his friends. Rest assured the moment he leaves James will make a comment on how head over heels for you he is. When he arrives, it doesn’t take him long to spot you. You’re sitting alone on the edge of the lake, snow cushioning your jeaned legs from the ground and a despondent look on your face as you watch your friends laugh and scream without you. His poor girl, you look so upset by yourself. He creeps up behind you, sitting down to meet your sniffily little figure.

“Hey darling.” He coos, the oddly romantic pet name rolling off his tongue like many times before. “Siri…” You mutter, flopping your forehead onto his shoulder weakly. Sirius chuckles, scratching your head comfortingly. “Come on, I’m taking you back to my dorm.” You groan, not even moving from your spot, but Sirius doesn’t give in easily. He never does. Instead he merely huffs, effortlessly picking you up regardless of your protests. You always tell him he’s “too much”, constantly flirting or playing with you. “I’m not going to ever get a boyfriend if you keep on doing this!” you always yell. Perhaps that’s his plan, because he’s been desperately in love with you from the day you first met.

As you walk, he ignores the judging stares of others and instead opts to focus on easing your pain.

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Like a seven out of ten.”

“Well that’s no good princess! You didn’t try any spells on it?”

“Lilly did, but I don’t think it helped much”

“I’ve got some tokes in my room, maybe that’ll help.”

“Yay!!”

When the two of you arrive, the boys are sitting in the common room, staring disappointedly at him as he carries you into his room. He knows later he’ll get some lecture by Remus about how he needs to start “putting himself first”, but he doesn’t care one bit when he sees you lying on his bed, silky hair spread out on his linen and eyes fluttering in a daze. What if he was on top of you right now, making you scream his name with that pretty little voice and scrunched up face and-

No. He can’t think about that. It’s wrong.

As promised earlier, Sirius whips out a pack of cigarettes and hands you one, smiling when you giggle in delight. The two of you sit in a blissful silence for a while, both separately enjoying the smoke and depth within both of your lungs. That is, until you break the silence with something Sirius wouldn’t even imagine in his own mind.

“Wouldn’t it be crazy if we dated?” Hah, that would be insane he thinks, respective of his own ideas. Instead Sirius just stays silent, too scared of what could blurt out of his mouth. “Cause Frank mentioned something to me the other day that got me thinking… Why did nothing ever happen between us?” Sirius darts his head up to meet you, puzzled by the question. Truthfully, he has pondered this very idea on many sleepless nights, wondering why you always went for the good, boring guys and never blushed whenever he makes some blatant flirt in your direction. He was hot, other girls tell him that all the time. And you know that you can trust him, you’ve been friends for years. But of course it never happened. Perhaps your just out of his league.

“I-I don’t know. I guess we were just never into each other like that.” He finally manages. You scoff, your half lidded eyes looking at him in jest. “That’s not true. I was crazy for you all of year one two and three.” “Wait, what?” You laugh at his shock, which quickly turns into a grimace as you moved your foot in some awkward way, forgetting it was injured. “Sirius, you could never tell? I used to pray to Merlin that you would like me back, but then you got with Daisy M and I moved on.”

Every moment, every time he cursed himself for feeling how he does and dreaming about you came crashing down on him. How could he be so stupid? In one big puff his cigarette is finished, snuffing it out onto his battered and broken bedside table and placing his head in his hands.

Although it appeared distant in his confused state, he heard your voice clearly rattling his brain as you continue to speak. “I think we could do it. Like, we could be a thing. Your hot, I’m… average and we know each other better than anyone. Plus, it would probably be easiest. Instead of wasting our time trying to find someone else.”  Sirius tries not to break down at your words, revealing it’s all he’s ever wanted. “Just a chance” he would say, “Just one chance to prove I’m worth your time.”

But before he can say any of the millions of thoughts swirling around in his head your fast asleep, the pain from earlier finally catching up with you and the cigarette ash coating his bed to the side of you.

He brushes it off, kisses your forehead and walks out.

“I love you darling.”

[dedalvs]

ive done a lot of translating to high valyrian in my day and id like to think im pretty good at it sometimes (the way ive spent literal hours researching how just one piece of grammar works to change a noun to an adverb or something is maybe insane)

anyway all that to say i usually know what to look for and how to apply it, but i am struggling with this new bit im trying to translate. “i disdain all glittering gold.”

ive replaced disdain with hate cause there doesnt seem to be a word for disdain in valyrian and hate is the closest approximation. same with glittering — replaced that with shine, and had to manually transform that to an adjective (jehikagon -> jehikere? dunno if its right)

so what i have now is “nyke buqan unir jehikere aeksion”

(im not as concerned with getting the word order right as i am with the rest of the grammar)

ive learned from a previous answer “nyke” is potentially (probably) unnecessary here, so that leaves it as “buqan unir jehikere aeksion,” but the unir there in the middle kinda makes it feel off and im not sure if maybe that also needs to be part of a compound word like valar or how to make it one if so because idk what part of valar is all and what part is men and how to fit aeksion into that equation.

i lost track of what my question was originally meant to be but i guess im wondering if im on the right track and if theres some guidance you may have to get me all the way there.

thank you for your time 🙏

Uhhhhhh... Not to be that dude, but...maybe be more concerned with that...?

I'm not sure if you know about this site, but my wiki is exhaustively updated with respect to High Valyrian, specifically. There's a team of people that work on High Valyrian and it's massive. For example, you could go to the entry for jehikagon and see that jehikere is wrong: it should be jehikare. And, of course, it has to agree with āeksion (note the long ā), so it should be jehikarior. To get the sense of repetitiveness (with "glittering"), you might add ā- to the front, so ājehikarior.

Now for "all", why not use the collective? This is how you get "All men must die", so it should work for "I distain all glittering gold". That would be āeksior. Of course, it would need to be in the accusative, so altogether it would be ājehikarior āeksȳndi. By adding the repetitive you kind of get the aliteration, too, since they both begin with ā.

Finally you have "disdain", for which buqagon serves. Aside from sound a little more posh, the difference between "disdain" and "hate" in English seems to be one of duration. The words "disdain" and "loathe" seem to emphasize that this is a character trait rather than a reaction. If you disdain something, you've given it some thought, have experience with it, and may use this as a way of describing or characterizing yourself. You can do this with "hate" as well, but it's a much more common word, and so can be used in other more basic ways, whereas "disdain" and "loathe" tend to only have specalized uses. To try to approximate this, you could use the frequentative with buqagon to imply a lengthy duration. That would give you jobuqan "I disdain". In fact, you could even use the aorist if you really wanted to imply that it was a description of yourself, i.e. jobuqin.

Now that you have the pieces, though, I really hate to say it, but the words must be in the right order. I mean, you can change the order of the noun and adjective, if you'd like, but you simply cannot put the verb first and think you've created a Valyrian sentence. It's not just "kind of" wrong: it's completely wrong. It'd be like suggesting "I him saw" is close enough in English because the forms are correct. It's not. It's wrong. This is not a minor part of the grammar you can ignore. High Valyrian is aggressively verb-final. The verb must be at the end.

All in all, that gives you:

Ājehikarior āeksȳndi jobuqin.

Hope that helps!

[harmoniouseclipse]

Woe fankids be upon ye

Doing a little series where I took some ship requests on my instagram to make them fankids, this one is for me tho (jeanlisa to kick it off whoo 🙌🏻) The lineup so far is Cytham, Kavetham, Lionfish (aka Freminet x Gaming aged up probably idk how old they are canonically), Cynonari, Jealuc, and Beiguang, and feel free to send me some other pairings you wanna see (as long as they are legal pls otherwise I will ignore it 👎)

I'm gonna ramble about some headcanons and lore for them under the cut, continue with caution bc I'm insane

These two are my brainrot rn, don't even joke lad. And I wanna tell yall their name meanings too bc I like them a lot 🥹 Zephra's means "west wind" derived from Greek, and it's the feminine version of Zephyr. Tyrian was a type of purple dye used by the Ancient Phoenicians, huge huge HUGE thanks to my pookie bear @miothefish for helping me out with his name!!! Also he has Lisa's butterfly earring and you can't see bc of the angle but Zephra has the rose that went in her hair holding her ponytail <3

I'm also making a massive family tree for the characters as a go along, and just the jeanlisa tree is taking up half of the canvas bc of the KoF and Sumeru characters since Cyno is their uncle and the rest of the gang are their honorary uncles 😭 I'll be posting that once the series is done/all the requests are finished/I run out of ships and otps I enjoy

Here's an alternative version with some more info on most of the characters I wanted to briefly mention in their relation to them; Tyrian likes calling Eula his aunt too even though she was never really considered one for them so it's kind of like her unofficial title she pretends to dislike but she loves it and dotes on Tyrian 🤭 She and Diluc also helped train Zephra with a claymore and Diluc kind of became a parental figure to her in her teen years after Lisa's passing 🥺 She also feels like she's outshined by Jean and that she's not smart or powerful enough to follow in Lisa's footsteps (something that Lisa wouldn't want anyways bc it led her to her death 😔) rip zephra she's just like me fr

And yeah some Kaeya angst bc he's still going thru it I fear, and Jean is single mombossing but she's worried for zephra which me too dawg, im afraid to say she might be cooked 😦 Zephra is also kind of like a weird mix of Lisa when she was her age and Jean, where overall she's well-mannered and kind but she can be competitive and feel the need to push herself too much and pull a few strings to get what she wants from time to time. Tyrian is a ray of sunshine tho, he has not yet witnessed the horrors 💔 I do think that Jean is also a lot easier on him than her mom was with her so that also helps. He's very shy tho and wants to stick with Zephra or Razor most of the time, and they both have some nasty tan lines from going out with Razor and Klee and Fischl a lot 😔 Cyno also freaking loves them and dotes on them and Tyrian is getting a TCG addiction because of it smh, Cyno is also one of Zephra's favorite people and when she's in Sumeru she stays with him and Alhaitham (bc in my universe they are married ough I love cytham)

And (I think?) Klee physically and mentally ages slower than humans so I think she'd be technically 9 or 10, and Zephra is left with babysitting duty most of the time if she's home on break or smth 😭 Klee really looks up to her tho

Also, I wrote Tyrian's last bullet point like he was super young when Lisa died, but I think he was around 7 so he actually remembers Lisa better than I intended it to sound, he was just younger than Zephra (who was 11 at the time) and just didn't have as much time with her as Zeph did, but his most fond memory of Lisa was reading with her and she probably taught them some potion-making skills too.

I think there will be some abyss angst in here too at some point, since I hc Lisa to be probably an Abyss Lector/Harold (I forget which is which) um so thinking that Zeph and Tyrian experiencing some not normal things happening and Jean doesn't know what to do since Lisa also didn't really know what that dog in her was until it was too late 😔 That's what Kaeya's for tho since he's like the heir of the abyss???? Go off king. Also some touchy ragbros angst bc Kaeya is scared for Zeph knowing how close she is with Luc and he doesn't want him to push her away because of her being from the abyss or smth (they mostly made up but it's still a fear in Kaeya's mind both for him and Jean's kids)

I think that's all I wanted to touch on for now?? Mainly just thinking about domestic fluff and angst all the time now 🥺 Zeph not being able to be open with Jean bc she feels like a disappointment but Jean would literally actually die for her and shes proud of her no matter what ough im going to lose my freak dawg guess who my favorite fankid is it's super hard ik

Send me asks or dms or whatever for more ship requests!!! I'm having so much fun with this dawg 🫶🏻

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

OMG😵‍💫 LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME… could u do a 5, 16, and 29 for your kinktober masterlist with sirius and remus… im actually going insane rn but anyways hope ur doing well and remember to take a break🪩 thank youuuu beautiful writer

5: first time   16: threesome   29: anal

my. god. seems like you want to kill me! this is one i'd been thinking about trying for so long actually...

okay, so i started writing it, and was going to write a brief lead up, and ended up writing too much. so. i'm posting that here now as a kind of prologue since i'm itching to get something out there and people seem to prefer shorter bits. then i'll write the proper request tonight and link it here when i post later today or tomorrow

UPDATE: link to the actual smut fic

(thank you for requesting! so so love to hear from you🫶)

so to start:

pre- remus x sirius x reader

word count: 1.4k

Prologue

It was for the best, you’d all decided. 

“We’ll all still be friends no matter who you choose,” they’d both said when months of sexual tension and emotional turmoil had finally climaxed in a conversation. 

Sirius and Remus: your two best friends in the entire world. Jaime, too, but it was different. He’d been quite preoccupied lately since getting together with Lily, and he was the only one you saw in a brotherly way. Sirius and Remus, your two best friends in the entire world… well… your feelings for them were less sisterly. 

And, it so happened, they felt the same. Both of them. 

The attraction, the affection, it had all finally become too much, had begun to strain the friendship. And since protecting the friendship was the purported reason none of you were acting on your feelings, you’d finally had that colossally awkward conversation. 

Their proposal: you choose. That way at least two out of the three of you get what you want, and the other can start trying to get over it; all three of you promise to prioritize your friendship even if it takes some readjustment. 

Your response: you couldn’t. You loved them both too much to hurt either of them or, honestly, to even be able to make the choice. 

So, you’d all agreed, it was for the best if you continued as you were. At least now things were out in the open, relieving some angst, some awkwardness. 

Open conversation had done nothing to relieve your feelings, however, and not just the fluffy ones. Those, at least, you could still indulge with your best friends. You could laugh together and talk and go out and even snuggle up on cold nights. But your lust for your boys you could not indulge, and in the pit of your stomach — and a bit lower — it grew and grew. 

Some nights, it became just a bit too much, and you’d opt for a bit of… personal time. You’d touch yourself to the thought of them; one suddenly swapped for the other in your fantasies then back again and so on, not even your mind ever picking a preference.

You have plans with them later but are at their empty flat quite early. They have more space than you, so it’s not uncommon for you to hang out here without them. They’ve even given you a key. 

James is out with Lily, and Remus and Sirius are out on some errand, hunting for some part for Sirius’s motorbike or something. You hadn’t paid too much attention, to be honest, just knew they’d be home in — you check the clock — a couple of hours. 

Enjoying the peace, you read a while, snuggled up on their sofa, Remus’s big, fluffy blanket too inviting to ignore. You stretch out our legs and hear something fall onto the floor. Looking over, you see you’ve knocked over Sirius’s favourite leather jacket. Picking it up, feeling its familiar texture in your hands, in the privacy of your solitude, you bring it up close and inhale. It smells so distinctly of him, and Sirius’s scent has always intoxicated you. 

At the thought of his arms wrapped around you when he’s wearing this jacket, you get a bit warm. You shift Remus’s blanket partly off of yourself, but rather than cool you down, this gets you thinking about his arms around you the many times you’ve shared this blanket. The way his body feels up against yours. The way he’ll often pull your legs on his lap. The way Sirius will come complaining about him hogging the blanket — and you — and sit on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder. His long, raven locks tickling your neck. 

Before you realize you’ve really decided to do this, you’ve slithered your body prone; your hand has slipped into your trousers; your eyes have fluttered closed, and your mind is reeling at the thought of them, one on either side of you, doing more than snuggling.

I can be quick, you think. They’re not meant to be back for ages anyway, and I can’t very well hang out with them when I’m already all flustered.

A minute later, your trousers are partly off, and you’re properly touching yourself, completely absorbed in the textures, the smells, the fantasies of the jacket, the blanket, the boys they belong to, the boys whose bodies you want all over yours, the boys whose key you don’t hear because you’re so caught up.

As the door flies open, so do your eyes, and they meet each of theirs in turn, both sets wide and starting. You yank your pants up and pull yourself together, jumping off the sofa.

A mess, your voice is raspy when you say, “I thought you weren’t going to be home till later.” 

A beat. They’re both still staring at you, their mouths agape, their feet seemingly glued to the entrance.

Then Remus awkwardly clears his throat. 

“Um,” cough, “yeah. Bloke canceled. Didn’t have the part.”

“Were you just touching yourself?” pipes up Sirius before Remus is even through with his short explanation. 

“I…” You’re mortified. “I’m sorry! Fuck. I thought I had the place to myself for a while! Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You cover your burning face with your hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Please, is there any chance we can just forget this happened?” you plead. 

“Fat chance,” Sirius barks, and you glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he yields, hands up, “We can pretend.” He smirks.

“Pretend what, arsehole?” you say.

He opens his mouth to respond, but Remus cuts him off, saying “— that we didn’t see anything…” Even he is struggling to choke back a laugh as he pats Sirius on the shoulder and adds, “Right, mate?”

Sirius, sarcastic seriousness smeared across his features, just nods. 

“Oh my god,” you say again, seemingly having forgotten the rest of your vocabulary, shaking your head at the situation and plopping back down onto the sofa, face back in your hands. 

They come over, laughing now but comfortingly, and sit on either side of you. Sirius’s arm comes around you, and Remus’s hands take yours and pull them off your face. Surprising you, Sirius is the first to speak. 

“It’s fine, love,” he chuckles. “Honestly.” He rocks you back and forth a bit. 

“It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank on this sofa.” 

“On the sofa??” Remus retorts. “Your room is right there for fuck’s sake.” 

“Alright, I stand corrected,” Sirius continues, completely unfazed, “It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank in this flat.” He laughs again, and Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but can’t help but also chuckle. 

“Okay, okay,” you rush, not wanting to start thinking about them wanking, “Can we please talk about something else before I die of embarrassment?”

They agree and let up, and you turn on the telly, desperate for some distraction. The three of you start watching, and after a few tense minutes, you attempt some casual conversation, asking about their days and such. They answer, but the strange mood never quite seems to dissipate. There’s a charge in the air that mere time is no match for. 

You flip the channel and, to your horror, are met with a couple kissing passionately. You turn it off, much too quickly to be at all subtle. You shift slightly in your seat in between them. They’re both much tenser than usual, keeping more distance than usual but somehow pretending not to with an awkward graze here or there. Sirius is squirmy; Remus is too still. 

“How about some music?” you try, getting up and beelining for their record collection and putting something on. 

Realizing it will be even weirder to sit somewhere else, which you never do, you sit back down between them. 

Except for the music: silence. 

Until Sirius whispers, his voice gruff, “So who were you thinking about?”

Your head whips toward him, and you’re met with an expression you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. His stormy grey eyes are blown almost fully black and slightly hidden under heavy lids. His mouth is slightly open, but at seeing your face, his eyes scanning your features, he bites his lower lip. There’s lust in every feature, certainly, but there’s desperation too.

You turn toward Remus. He looks equally wrecked. 

His eyebrows furrow, and you’re unsure whether that’s meant in question to Sirius’s query. 

You look back and forth between the two men, the air around you heavy and electric. 

“Honestly?”

They both nod. 

“Both of you…” you confess.

continued in this smut fic

[prettyboykatsuki]

okay fr what do you think scara is like in bed? what’s he into, what’re his kinks, the whole shebang?

modern scaramouche hc's

✭ tags ; sub!chara, dom!reader (they bottom but parts are unspecificed so gn!reader as well), this is also my modern!scaramouche take so just be aware, bratting, rough sex, slapping, hitting, a lil degradation, reader is v careful abt scaramouches boundaries tho, romantic implications reader is stronger than scara + he is short king, etc

✭ wc ; 2.1k (im soooo ashamed. anon im so sorry)

✭ a/n ; this got so out of hand so quickly. this is my personal scaramouche this has nothing to do with anyone but me and my delusions sorry in advance.

like really. cant describe how subjective this is but i also refuse to change my mind or see him any other way. thank u so much for inquiring

my modern scaramouche is usually aged like. 20-something in college. he goes to a nice university (a very competitive school mind you.) he was really concerned about excelling for like most of his hs career. kind of a loner except tartaglia who adopted him into his friend group.

he panics about his degree for the longest time cause he doesn't know what to do - but settles on civil architecture and minors in fine art.

he has his ears pierced and some other piercings too that he was peer pressured into, but overall likes how they look. he's not usually very dressed up and all of his closet is so oversized because comfort > fashion BUT he never looks like a slob either.

has like 3 other friends on campus (kazuha + mona + childe who somehow followed him there)

complicated relationship with his mom + stepmom (he doesn't hate her but they do not communicate so tons of misunderstandings between them. like sooo many)

and. usually not actively looking to date anyone ever. he had like one crush one time in highschool but chickened out so miserably and SEETHED about it the whole time.

after that he swore to never, ever, ever go back to that dark place and sort of just focused on his career and school. his major is pretty difficult so it takes a lot of his time

plus he's a little pretentious, stuck up little shit so only a few people can handle him in the first place.

anyways. u meet through tartaglia who thinks you two will get along really well (and he's trying to set you both up bc he thinks you two could work well together)

its honestly like oil and water. you're personality just rubs him the wrong way. sure childe is annoying, but he's stupid

you're...not stupid. you're kind of clever and you treat him with like. a sense of disrespect he hates. scaramouche is used to people who let him have the upperhand

but you're always pretty quick to shoot him down. you never let him him get away with anything and you guys have this like... insane back and forth for months

its the slowest of burns. he swears he hates you.

(he doesn't though. he thinks its really fucking attractive that you talk back to him and don't let him intimidate you ever. but he loathes that feeling. he also loathes how nice your laugh is and how easy it is to talk to you)

scaramouche spends. AGES. ages in denial. closes his eyes to it. its like 6 months deep into it - he starts having wet dreams and he wakes up HORRIFIED with himself.

WORSE? scaramouche knows about your sex life. not through you but through observation and gossip. he's not fucking you in the dreams. you're fucking him.

humiliated, he simply tries to ignore it. but it's making him so much moody than usual and because you two spend so much time together - you notice almost right away. of course you do.

"whats got your panties in a twist lately? not that you're usually sunshine and rainbows but you're acting like a little kid"

scaramouche says something mean. like, really mean in response. he's just so frustrated. its a personal jab, farther than he'd usually go.

he's expecting to sabotage himself you know? he does that sometimes. pushes people away when they get too close. it's a miracle he has any friends. he's expecting you to get annoyed and leave.

but there's this like. chill to your voice. and you're looking straight at him.

"you don't talk to me like that, understand? i don't care how shitty your mood is."

one hit k.o. he can't even breathe. what's wrong with him and what is happening to him, and holy shit why do you sound like that.

"sorry," he apologizes (him. he's apologizing first) "just. frustrating,"

and you immediately slink back to your usual self. and he's relieved and a little excited and just overall restless because he can't stop thinking about what just happened.

"it's fine. i like being on your ass or whatever but it's bothering me that you're so moody. maybe you really do need to get laid,"

the joke is one you often to make. it's meant to lighten the mood. but scaramouche is feeling pent-up and horny and that's kind of exactly what he needs

"s-shut up. it's not like you're going to do it,"

internally he's hoping you take the bait. he is equal parts horrified and excited watching you take in the information. you give him a lazy smile as you sit up and look at him.

"huh. do you...want me to do it?"

oh dear god. oh fuck.

"so what if i did?"

and then you laugh, which he can't decipher. he's gearing himself to be made fun of. he watches you with big wide yes as you come sit on the desk near him. feels your fingers trail his jaw and tilt his head up and holy shit he might really die.

he can barely look up at you.

"is that why you've been acting weird for last couple of weeks?" your voice is so smug and scaramouche is so turned on it's stupid. he hates it. hates himself. hates everything

"shut up,"

and then, you grab his chin. really make him look at you and it's startling but he doesn't pull away. you look gleeful.

"that why you've been running with your tail between your legs when you see me?" you hum, your eyes almost predatory "cause you want me to fuck you?"

its times like this scaramouche he could be honest. because that's exactly what he wants, but he hates having to say it.

"as if you could satisfy me," he says, instead. your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to register it all in your head.

"you're such a fucking brat," you say, light. affectionate, really. it makes his heart pump "you think i can't?"

"i'd like to see you try," he says, absolutely and utterly in disbelief internally. you grin.

"can i kiss you?"

"why're you asking?"

"cause im an asshole, not a villain,"

you and scaramouche makeout in a study room before he decides to to get ahold of himself and invites you into his dorm. he's never been so thankful in his life that his roomate is gone.

when you get scaramouche into bed - it really dawns on him how out of his element he is. he's not a virgin - a few awkward and usually bad hook-ups in his repertoire.

but you're not like them. he's bitey and on edge but you handle him. ask for permission for little things, clarifications for what he's okay with. you're thoughtful, despite how much he's lashing out.

and it's turning scaramouche so much he doesn't know how to handle it other than doing it again. he wants to provoke you so much. he wants to put him in his place over and over.

it's mid makeout he pulls away, frustration all-welled up inside him that he asks. he's hard and needy and needs something to get him off.

"i knew you were all talk," he sneers, putting as much of himself in it as he can "this is nothing,"

you look at him very seriously "you're really asking for it, huh," you say with a sigh "do you know what you're getting into?"

"nothing serious obviously,"

"usually when i deal with brats like you, i treat 'em real rough. im being nice to you cause you're so pent up, but it's like you don't want that," you grab his face again, getting close and personal this time and scaramouche feels like he'll collapse "want me to treat you mean and put you in your place? hit you and make you cry?"

oh it ruins his life. that's exactly what he wants. what he needs from you so much it aches. so much he chokes.

"wh-what the hell are-"

but you make him face forward, look you in your eyes.

"your first lesson is answer me when i talk to you. is that what you want? you can nod if you can't say it,"

so he nods and you laugh.

"yeah? should smack the brat outta you shouldn't i?

you're asking for permission. despite his everything, there's something affectionate about it. he feels his stomach twist with desire.

"just fucking do it already,"

"tell me if you need to stop,"

"i said—"

it's unceremonious, really. when scaramouche feels the palm of your hands on his cheek, landing heavy and hard as you push him back against the bed. you hit him.

he liked it. makes his cock throb in his fucking jeans, feeling the sting.

"your second lesson is don't fucking mouth at me," you practically spit. there's some roughness in your actions that make scaramouche keen as you crawl on top of him "can't even deal with your moods without lashing out."

scaramouche feels his stomach churn as your hands make rough work of him. you pin his wrists over his head, tell him to keep it there.

and of course he refuses, disobeys - gets to feel how strong you actually are when you spit the words back in his face again to hold fucking still.

scaramouche keeps doing it. keeps pushing until you have to put him back where he belongs forcibly. he doesn't know that he's doing it

but he wants something he can't name, a desire that aches so deep in his chest. he wants you to take responsibility for him - like a promise of some kind.

he likes the way your mouth feels on his skin. your teeth feel so good sinking into pale flesh. the scratch of your nails and sting of your palms as you spank and hit and push his body.

you manhandle him so fucking easily, putting him in every position you can think of. on his knees, or his back - naked and waiting.

you tease scaramouche till he's honest, your voice coarse until he starts giving in.

you're so good with your hands. your fingers, your mouth. you know just the right things to get him all squirmy - praising him when he's getting desperate towards the end.

his sense of shame nowhere to be found as he gets close to the edge. as you tip him over it, he can feel all the tension bleed out of him. goes from bitching, to whiny - needy and not above begging.

he doesn't even understand it. can't wrap his head around it all the way - lets you guide him through the feeling as he starts feeling pliant.

you let him fuck you with mercy. don't make him work for it, just sit on his cock and tell him that he looks so much better when he's all messed up for you and he just. melts completely. like feels like he's gonna fall through the floor.

he cries when he cums. sobs a little as he finally gets relief then melts into your bed like a pile of wet sand as you finish yourself off and overstimulate him a little in the process.

after all is said and done - he falls asleep basically immediately after the high.

when he wakes up the next day - you haven't left. he's like kind of nuzzled up in your arms (which. is wild bc he has always hated physical touch but? apparently not with you)

when you stir awake, you're immediately whistling. you even press a kiss to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face.

"you awake? feel okay?" you hum, so stupidly tender and scaramouche has to fight every urge to push you away.

"im...fine. you're still here," he says unhelpfully. you chuckle.

"yeah. figured you would start spiraling if i left in the middle of the night"

he is horrified at the accuracy.

"it's weird when you're being all...nice to me,"

"its a lot easier since i realize you just wanted to be put in your place," you say with a knowing him. scaramouche elbows you "it's cute, it's cute. don't kill me,"

"you're annoying,"

"yeah, i know. i wiped you down a bit but we should shower and i gotta make sure you're not too hurt anywhere,"

"i'm not a flower,"

"i was bein' pretty rough and its my job to take care of you,"

"why would that be your job?"

"cause im a responsible sexual partner and we're seeing each other, i figure?"

he flushes at the implication. he doesn't want to think about it as he cuddles himself into your side. ugh. whatever.

"who said that?"

"do you want me to see other people?"

"i'll kill you,"

"that's what i thought,"

scaramouche hates it but does not have the confidence to protest you.

scaramouche realizes with the weight of the world on his shoulders that he is the most submissive brat in the fucking world

he decides not to think about it for a while

[kirk]

andy i support you 100% but i'm gonna be honest i'm way more invested in the rpf of the actors than iwtv itself can you tell us some more about them they seem very normal

helpbfhjdghjgnb no i totally get it, sam and jacob also set off my rpf alarm bells. but god where do i even begin with them like

sorry im about to look like this

them having an intimacy cooridnator to help with distance between an actor's mouth and another actor's neck/arm/wherever and ignoring that with each other and instead giving eachother hickeys on their hands and necks???? also ignoring kiss-acting rules or whatever and going tongue first anyway like they both just decided no we WILL be insane. but outside of filming theyve also been seen many times walking together alone like alone the seine river and san fran beach in their own world. the time that jacob and sam went to a sticker shop for like over an hour and that was when jacob realised how similar they are cause they can just enjoy small things like that so much together, or how they also went to a candle store together and bought these like jesus cross candles and jacob wanted to light them together with sam, how many of their costars have described them acting like two puppies whenever theyre around each other, also sam owning a heartlocket with jacob face in it, oh also since sam was in season 2 considerably less than season 1 he SHOULDVE been on set less. keyword shouldve. cause he wasnt he'd constantly show up to set just to hang out with jacob, plus being there specifically at jacob's request cause jacob was shooting a very emotionally taxing scene and wanted comfort, also my most favourite thing theyve shared cause its so funny is jacob admitting that during season 2 shooting he usually liked to be by himself and rarely interacted with the cast outside of shooting cause the cast would like to go out for drinks a lot etc but then also admitted to going out every night to the same fucking restaurant, ordering the same thing every night, with sam. it is so fucking funny. also ill stop now but ill end this off some images i like yes that first one isnt from the show it was from them in an interview of all things <3 muah thanks for letting me dump