#because they all. wear the same fit jeans. the same fit tops. the same big jackets.

[tchaikovskym]

Turns out my cousin is the person all tech companies are making the new horrible features for and I'm terrified of that

[charles-leclerizz]

Rapid Fire Challenge: Aisha vs. Max

Aisha and Max go head-to-head in a rapid-fire question challenge. With only seconds to answer each question, they'll reveal fun facts, preferences, and more. Who will come out on top?

reading time : 8 mins 15 seconds

word count : 1.6 k [ 1650 words ]

warnings : swearing, lewd and suggestive wording, crack, not proof read

Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷

" What the fuck are you wearing?" Max looked Aisha up and down, his trademark red bull can clattering into the hollow bin next to him as he watched Aisha run a confused hand down her front before glancing cautiously back up at him.

She arched a brow at him and tugged at her strapless top, " clothes ? "

Max snorted and reached out to poke her slightly exposed mid-driff, " or lack thereof . "

Was the aggravating man wrong? Perhaps not.

In Aisha's opinion, it was a perfectly splendid ensemble. Another one of her brand parter's had generously offered her a two piece outfit, a long, flowing silk skirt that shimmered a classic Porsche silver- paired with a tight cotton, corset top that accentuated her chest with a ruffled middle piece of taffeta.

To others, it may seem over the top.

" You have the same outfit everyday. it's like you're trying to be an NPC ." Aisha plucked at his red-bull jersey with a scrunched up nose, " it's not my fault that brands love to gift me pretty things and you… well . " she fluttered her fingers at his slightly-looser-than-normal tight jeans.

" Hmm .. " he hummed, tempted to flick the stack of dainty, amrapali golden chains that sat delicately on her collarbones, " whatever you say. I'm sure Lando appreciates your outfit . "

" And what's that meant to mean ? "

" - Excuse me ? "

" Just saying - "

" Saying what ? Are you just jealous that I can pull of colours unlike you, who stays about monochromatic as a pair of granny panties . "

" Woah-h-h, big words for miss 'I'm here cause I couldn't get a modeling gig ' "

" - Excuse me ? "

" Oh, just because I have the assets - " she gestured at her breasts and face, "- to do modelling, you're bitter ? don't worry, we can get you a push up bra from Forever 21. You'll fit right in"

" Excuse me ? "

" - What ? "

" - What ? "

" We're ready for you, " an onset assistant, who looked too scandalised for her own good, motioned for them to step into the filming room.

They mouthed silent insults and unnecessarily pointed to one another, as they pushed through the inconveniently small door.

" And… we're stuck. this is all your fault max . " aisha hissed, crossing her arms as selflessly as she could muster whilst being pressed chest to chest with an equally uncomfortable Dutchman who propped a palm up- just above the crown of her head on the short doorway.

" my fault ? " he retorted, face growing redder with each second they spent sharing breath, " you're the one with india's remaining crown jewels on her person ."

" well maybe if your entitled ancestors didn - "

" oh shut up, it was the british and you know it . "

Luckily, the assistant had noticed their predicament and rushed over to undo the deadbolt lock to the second door, allowing the two to stumble away from each other.

They had thankfully remained silent as the rest of the filming crew grew more and more entertained with their squabbling, merely following the polite instructions and taking their seats as denoted by the white, masking tape markers stuck onto the plush seats.

" ROLLING "

" Welcome back everyone to a new season of formula 1 ! " the chirpy interview babbled to the largest camera before turning to the drivers who sat in line with her, watching her neutrally as they both accepted small, clip on microphones.

" Today we have … " she trailed off, giggling at Aisha who struggled to slip on the clasp of the tech in her hand, the plastic mechanism clacking obnoxiously at each failed attempt.

" Max, from our very own red bull garage ," she turned to max, who was already set himself up and was now sitting straighter in his tufted, indigo seat. He waved at the camera and politely smiled.

The interviewer glanced at Aisha as she victoriously gasped and raised her hands happily when the microphone stayed put, tucked between her skin and top, " … and aisha, rookie of the season down from porsche . "

Aisha waved at the camera, a serene smile playing on her lips.

" We're here to play a quick fire round of questions with the grids current champion , " she gestured to max, " and this years fresh meat . " she pointed her stack of cards at aisha.

" I'll be asking you both questions about each other, and whoever guesses correctly the fastest, will win a point . it's all about testing if your racing chemistry translates to real-life friendship ! "

" What friendship ? " max deadpanned, fiddling with his fingers.

" Can we do this one thing without you letting people know you hate me ? or is it too hard for the 3X world champion to multi-task ? "

The interviewer's eyes ping-ponged between them before her grin became artificially wider and she screeched a shrill, " Let's begin ! "

" alright max, what is aisha's favourite track to race ? "

the driver jumped at his name and the camera lens zoomed into his determined expression as he glanced between aisha's anticipatory face and the air, as if he were begging the particles for the answer.

" one second "

" she's said this before.. " he tried, clapping his hands nervously.

" i have, " aisha shrugged, egging him on.

" it was one of those times where she wouldn't shut up. "

" two seconds "

" come on max, it's so easy, i've raced there in f2 as well ... "

" yeah- cause i had the f2 races on while i was training, "

" three seconds "

" wow you're bad at this, " aisha huffed out, landing back against her chair with a relaxed flop.

max bounced his knee, forcibly shutting his eyes and harshly pressing his fingers into them as he pieced together his answer, " it's... shit... is it ?.. suzuka ? "

"- oh for fuck sake ! "

" - you are correct ! one point to max "

CURRENT SCORE : 0 - 1

" okay, aisha, If max could race in any era of Formula 1, past or present, which one would she choose ? "

" how come i get the piss hard one ? "

" cause you'll never actually get hard otherwise.." max mumbled.

" oh fuck off. "

" language guys, our editors aren't paid enough to censor all of this ."

aisha hooked her ankles together before leaning forward and hummed thoughtfully, " maybe... i don't think he's even mentioned this..." she plucked at her dangling earring as she continued to oscillate in recollection.

he shrugged, " i don't think i have actually."

" one second "

" wait... wait..." aisha hurried out, holding her palm out, " i have to choose wether he's too egotistical for my geuss.."

" oh please, " max sassed, " take your time, i'm sure my ego has alot to dissect. "

aisha scrunched up her face sourly, " yeah it does- like your unsolved daddy issues. "

" always the daddy issues ." he threw his hands up, " atleast be creative."

" two seconds "

" okay okay, hmmm, the 2021 season ? " aisha screwed her eyes shut, just incase she was wrong, " he would love to relive his first WDC . "

" that is..." the interviewer patted her legs quickly, continously creating a monotonous beating sound, " correct ! point to aisha . "

CURRENT SCORE : 1 - 1

" last one for max, if he gets this one, he wins, if not, then aisha gets a chance . "

max nodded determinedly, his mouth set in a hard line, "ready."

" wow, okay, " the interviewer gawked at his statue-like intensity, " uhm, what is aisha's pre-race ritual . "

aisha kicked her chin up, ready to watch max blubber over his last question, nobody knows her pre-race ritual, she was diligent enough to keep it hidden.

" so, i know she calls her parents around.. an hour before the race, " he paused mid-way to grin like a cheshire at her increasingly suspicious look, " and, i also know she has a playlist she listens to, mostly hozier.. but, without fail she.." max snaps his fingers, the final peice flickering to life like a broken tube light, "... she always.. can i say this ? "

aisha's face popped, cheeks flushing dangerously quickly, " can he ? "

" i.." the interviewer looked out the small tech crowd behind the camera who all gave her the same, confused shrug, ushering her to continue, " i assume so."

" she always wears.. ehm.. a pair of white underwear ." he mumbles the last phrase, avoiding eye-contact with anyone within the room whilst scratching the back of his neck.

" max ! " aisha smacked his shoulder in outrage, "wha- i mean why- but how ? " she spat out, her words merging within eachother until they tumbled out in an unintelligble spew.

" we didn't get that, she wears what ? "

" white.. undergarments, " max hesitantly answered.

the interviewer blinked a few times before gulping heavily and clearing her throat, " well thats a gross violation ! but let's just gloss over that. "

CURRENT SCORE : 1 - 2

" and for the sake of not continuing this hell-game, max is the winner. congratulations. " she clapped her hand gently against her queue cards.

"yeah.. well done.. bro " aisha muttered, dissociating from her surroundings to protect herself from further embarrassment that may just allow her already erratic heart to jump out of her ribcage.

" i don't feel like a winner," max joined her monotone lilt, eyes wide and wet, maintaing an unwwavering stare at the white wall that stood proud behind the myriad of wires.

MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon, @lorarri], OTHERS [@weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam, @inejghafawifesblog,d3kstar, @itsjustkhaos, @tremendousstarlighttragedy, @xoscar03,@nichmeddar, @sisinever], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK !

[filthy-baee]

Trailer Park Princess

Part 1 - The idea

Bully!Eddie x hyperfem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, mean!Eddie, bully!Eddie, smut, dubcon, noncon, virgin!reader, Eddie is older than reader, reader is over 18, kinda perv!Eddie

Note: I wrote this in 3 months. It took me so long to finish this. I still hope you like it! Not proofread! ♡

Y/N always loved being girly, always wearing skirts or dresses, hair always done and her body always smelt sickenly sweet. And Y/N loved her mom. She really did. Sure, her life was not the best, since her father went away and took all the money with him. It seemed like her formerly nice life found an early end. As she needed to move from her big house to the trailer park, the people changed towards her. They stopped being nice to her, talk to her and ignored her alltogether. Her mother worked her ass off for her daughter in her last year at school, but like every person, she also had a vice - smoking pot. Y/N didn't mind it actually, the only thing that she minded was where she got her shit from - Eddie Munson.

He was a little bit older then Y/N, and she can't deny the small crush she had on him. Sometimes Y/N could hear his van in the night or smell his weed when he was in his room smoking some pot with his window wide open. As they started living in the trailer park, Eddie was the only one who still talked with Y/N. Her social status was now as low as his and he kinda liked that. Y/N were really cute and damn, she was so submissive to him. He knew her from school and even talked with her sometimes before she moved to the trailer park, as she was the only girl who wasn't scared of him or was mean to him. She helped him with everything when he asked her. Y/N even did Eddies homework, just because he asked her to. Sure, he bullied her sometimes, just to see her pretty eyes water and her lips tremble. Sometimes he pushed her, just so he could catch her by her waist, pushing his clothed dick into her ass - the only thing between them his jeans and the thin skirt of Y/N. He also couldn't ignore the little wetness that always formed in her cute panties when he was a little mean to her.

As Y/N finished school, she got a job as a waitress at the Hideout. Eddie also finally finished school in the same year as Y/N did and found a job at a car workshop, near the Hideout.

Y/N's mom bought more and more from Eddie, sometimes forgetting to pay. Eddie didn't mind it that much, as he had a chance to see Y/N and talk with her now that they're out of school, even if it was just about the money her mom didn't pay. Also he could see her cute little face and body in even skimpier little outfits that she only wore at home and was too shy to wear at work.

After some weeks and many unpaid purchases of weed from Eddie, he finally made his way up to Y/N's trailer again. He knew that her mom was out to work and she was alone at home. He knocked on the door, taking a last drag from his own blunt, before he threw it on the ground.

Y/N heared the knock from her bedroom. She jumped to the door, slowly opening it, as she was scared alone at home. As she saw Eddie she opened the door fully, greeting him with a big smile. Eddie eyed her up and down. Y/N wore a short pink skirt with a white crop top. Her boobs nearly escaping the tight top and Eddie could see her panties if she would pick something up.

"Hey Eddie. Mom isn't here yet. Can I help you with something?" she asked and smiled sweetly at him. God, she was too cute for her own good, he thought.

"Well, you know, actually I think you can." Eddie said as he got into Y/N's trailer. He really could see her influence in the trailer. Everything was decorated with small knick knacks in all shades of pink. Eddie didn't really fit in there. He stood out like a sore thumb.

"Sure. What can I do for you, Eddie?" Y/N asked as she leaned against the small kitchen counter. Jesus Christ, this is going to be so easy he thought and a small smile grew on his face.

"You know, your mom didn't pay the last few purchases - again." Eddie said walking closer to Y/N and letting out a dramatic sigh. She could smell the weed on him as he came closer to her. "Oh. I am really sorry! She is so forgettable! But Eddie.... I don't have- " she started to talk but Eddie lifted his hand and she stopped talking immediatly. "I know you have no money. But I think we can find another agreement, right, Y/N?" he spoke and his hands grabbed the counter and Y/N were trapped between his arms. She nodded and looked in his dark chocolate eyes. "What can I do? I can cook for you or-or clean your trailer..." she said slowly, as she thought about other things she could do for Eddie.

Eddie pretended to be thinking really hard, tapping with his finger on his chin. He walked around a little, his long hair flowing around him. Y/N couldn't take her eyes off of him, as he came closer again. "Hmm, what about this sweetheart? You do everything I say for - hm, let us say - a month. How does this sound?" he asked her sweetly, standing right in front of her again. She tried to look away from him, his gaze too much for her. Eddie's hand grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. His pupils were blown, dark gaze following her every move. "Like...like a- a...slave?" she mumbled and whispered the last word, feeling embarrassed just by saying it.

Eddie grinned, his eyes never leaving hers. "If you want to put it that way, yes. We can say you are my slave for a month and your mommy doesn't have to pay me one dollar. Soo? Are you in, sweetheart?" Y/N could feel his hot breath against her blushing cheeks and she let out a small whimper and she nodded slowly. "Fuck. Did she really just whimper?" Eddie thought and he could also see how her thighs clenched together, as Y/N agreed. This is way too much fun for him, who cares about the money? This is something Eddie would pay for actually. The cutest little thing he ever saw and now he can do whatever he wants with her. That's just too good to be true! Eddie would lie if he says he didn't have a sweet spot for her. She was too nice for her own good and so damn pretty! Thank the lord, that her mommy smoked so much, that she even forgets to pay for it. But to be honest, Eddie did never remind her to pay up. He just waited for the right moment to talk with her sweet daughter. And he knew how much Y/N loved her mommy. She would do anything for her, to keep her out of trouble. Y/N knew that Eddie can get really uncomfortable, if people don't pay on time. She heard him talk with them in his trailer and damn, he can be really scary.

But it was different with her family. Eddie was calm with her and her mother, letting slip things, that he would never do with other people. Maybe he likes Y/N, but he would never say that to her.

"Good girl." Eddie said and let his knuckles brush over her jawline. Goosebumps rose on her skin as Y/N bit her lips, looking up at Eddie with big eyes. Eddie thought deeply, glancing at her blushing cheeks. "Kiss me." he demanded.

Y/N gulped, not knowing if she heared him right. "W-What?" Eddie pulled her closer by her hips. "I said...Kiss. Me!" Eddie's hand brushed her hair behind her ear, waiting for her next reaction. Her eyes started glizening with tears. Y/N felt uneasy. Kissing him? This would be her first kiss!

"Or should I search for your mommy and get the money out of her? You know we had an agreement, princess." Eddie mumbled staring at her glossy eyes. A small smirk appeared on his lips as he saw that Y/N was struggeling badly. "N-No! I'm sorry. It's just- I...never-" Y/N studdered, looking ashamed to her side.

Eddie couldn't believe it. She never kissed anyone? This has to be his lucky day. "No problem, sweetheart. I show you." he said, as he pulled her waist flush with his hips. Y/N could feel his warmth radiating from his body. Eddie pushed his legs between her thighs. He grabed her chin in his hands, his thumb slowly brushing over her bottom lip. Y/N opened her mouth, being submissive like always. Eddie grinned as he saw how responsive she was.

Eddies lips brushed over hers. Eddie took his sweet time with her, kissing her deeply and slowly. His tongue brushed over her lips and Y/N let out a low moan. Eddies tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her sweet taste.

As Eddie broke the kiss, Y/N heart was racing, her face a bright red. "Good girl. You will learn how to do it in no time." he said patting her head like she was a cute little puppy. Y/N leaned into his touch, loving the feeling of him carassing her hair.

She was just too cute, Eddie thought. "Now tell me. Are you a virgin, Y/N?" Eddies eyes met hers again in a piercing gaze. She tried to look away but he grabbed her jaw in a tight grip. She nodded, but Eddie was not having any of it. "I asked you a question. I need your words, princess. Or is a small kiss enough to get you dumb?" he grinned. "Y-Yeah...I am...a virgin." you whispered.

I am one lucky motherfucker, Eddie thought as he heared her words leave her sweet lips.

"Kiss me again. Like I did before, but now you do it on your own." Eddie demanded. Eddie pulled her up by her waist and sat her down on the kitchen counter. Y/N could feel his hard dick between her legs as he sat her down. She looked up to him, mumbling a small "Yes, Eddie" before she pulled him down to her. Her lips met his in a small kiss. Y/N licked slowly over Eddies lips, trying to do it just like Eddie did before. He grinned as he saw her struggle, her legs were trembling, goosebumps appeared all over her small body. Eddie slowly opened his mouth, giving her permission to enter his mouth with her tongue. She tasted the weed on his tongue, a small whimper escaped her plush lips. As Eddie grapped her ass, Y/N's body tensed up. She opened her mouth further and Eddies tongue pushed deeper into her mouth. Eddie looked at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her small hands clamping down on her skirt, knuckles turning white. Eddie pulled away, just as he saw her leaning into his touch on her ass more and more. Y/N looked at him disappointed. Her lips were puffy and a small pout appeared on her lips. He patted her head slightly, ruffeling her hair. "Good girl. You did so well." Eddie smiled softly at her. "T-Thank you."

Eddie took some steps back from her, leaving her cold and needy for him. "I will pick you up tomorrow after work. Then we will talk about the rules for our little agreement, sweetheart."

Eddie walked to the door, waving at her before closing the door behind him. Y/N still sat on the kitchencounter, legs shaking with need. Y/N's fingers slowly brushed over her lips, still tasting Eddie on them. She let out a sigh. As she hopped down from where she sat, she saw the small patch of wetness she left behind.

Taglist: @darknesseddiem @tlclick73

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us

Part 8: Warm Hands, Frozen Hearts

vampire!eddie x supernatural!reader

masterlist playlist

18+Only, werewolf!steve, allusions to smut, allusions to devious deeds, mention of addiction, mention of drinking blood, angst, waitress!erica, Bob Newby lives, Chief Hopper sighting, as well as another glimpse of vampire!max.

summary: you go on your "just friends" date with werewolf!steve, but meanwhile, Eddie makes a bold decision and things heat up between the two of you. Jareth's interest in you grows stronger, as does his determination to find out exactly who/what you are as everything begins to come to a head.

word count: 4.8k

author's note: for the sake of this story, Jareth is meant to be a cross between Jamie Campbell Bower and Eric Northman from True Blood. As a little reminder, The Upside Down exists in this story, but not the same way it does in ST. All of the ST characters in this do not know each other in the same way they do in the show. But, Steve and Robin are friends, because, well, always.

Fanger: derogatory slang for Vampire

Previous Chapter here

One week earlier

Steve was summoned to visit Sacrament in the Upside Down, and he should have gone with a few of his brothers in the pack but decided he didn't want company.  He snuck out there through the portal in the woods in his hulking wolf form at first, to sniff the place out, noting the high number of vampires and demobats circling overhead.  

He came back the next night in his truck, through the bridge, and was told to ask for Craven at the bar.

Craven sniffed the air and snarled when Steve walked up, and Steve returned the gesture, curling his top lip to show that he had sharp teeth too.  Werewolves were very strong—supernaturally so—but they were not immortal like vampires, and so it was always wise to operate around bloodsuckers with a measure of caution.

“I’m here to see Jareth,” Steve shouted over the synth music, squeezing in between two scantily clad human women.  

Steve was dressed like he’d just come from chopping wood in the mountains in a plaid button-down and jeans, and a wholesome curl of dark hair that bounced over his forehead.  Craven, on the other hand, was tattooed from neck to hands, wearing a wife beater that fit tight around his muscles and slicked back hair that was a bit greasy, but in a sexual way.  

“No one sees Jareth without an invitation,” Craven said smugly, throwing a rag over his shoulder to brace his hands in front of him.

Steve gave a wry smile.  “You think I’d come here just to shoot the breeze with you Fangers? He knows I’m coming.”

Craven clicked his tongue disapprovingly and went to grab the phone on the wall above the cash register, but in the blink of an eye, Jareth was already standing there, right next to Steve. He must have watched him come in on one of the cameras mounted on the ceiling. Steve moved back, out of surprise, but then he stepped forward again, meeting blonde, vampire Jareth eye to eye, letting him know he wasn’t afraid.

Steve really wasn’t afraid; his alpha ego was too big for that. Sure, he knew there was a chance that an older vampire might best him in the end, but he’d get the fight of his life.  

“Whatever he wants, it’s on the house,” Jareth told Craven, all while never taking his eyes off his guest.  

Steve declined a beverage and followed in Jareth’s wake through the sea of people moving to the music under the blue lighting.

Back in the simple black and cream decor of his office, Jareth found his firey assistant Maxine sitting behind his desk and he waved her out.  

“Oh? You didn’t tell me we were adopting a pound puppy,” she teased with a deadpan delivery, keeping a bored expression on her face.  

Steve knew they’d be taking cheap shots at him, he’d prepared himself for it.

“Get out, Maxine,” Jareth said impatiently.  “I need to have a word with our lycanthrope friend here.”

She obeyed, slinking out the door in her skin tight latex dress and platform heels, smacking her glossy lips in Steve’s face as she went.  

Jareth was in all black with a slim leather jacket on that looked like it had been tailored just for him.  He perched at the front of the desk, crossing his booted feet at the ankles, and folded his arms over his chest.

“Take a seat,” he told Steve.

Steve glanced down at the chair in front of Jareth.  “I’ll stand, thanks. What is this about?”

“You really don’t know why I’ve asked you here?” Jareth’s face looked like it was carved out of stone. “Do you need a hint?” 

For the first time, Steve broke eye contact.  “I don’t have any news about the girl.”

Jareth tilted his head back, so that he was looking down his nose at the visitor.  “You’ve been keeping an eye on her, like I asked?”

Steve gave a tight nod. 

The truth was that Steve hadn’t accidentally bumped into you at the bookstore that day two months ago; he knew where you would be and he’d sought you out.  His pack were in league with what some would consider “vampire royalty” and they made a lot of money doing jobs for them. 

At first, he started looking out for you because Jareth told him too.  But after around the third week, he realized he was protecting you because he cared about you.  He didn’t trust anyone from the pack to watch your trailer after dark, so he did it himself.  There were a few nights when he swore you’d looked out from your kitchen window and saw him: two red eyes glowing in his honey brown fur.  

“What’s your interest in her?” Steve chanced, knowing full well that Jareth would not answer it if he didn’t want to.  

“She says she’s human, but I don’t believe her,” Jareth raised an eyebrow.  “There’s something else going on with that one, and until I find out, I don’t want any harm to come to her.”

You weren’t human, Steve knew that from the first smell.  You were part human, part something else, as if your blood were filled with static from a television.  

“I asked you here because I need you to get closer to her, to see if you can find out anything more about her…condition.”

Steve didn’t like this anymore, he felt like he was being dishonest to you, and that one day you’d find out he was hired to watch you instead of being the avid science fiction lover he’d claimed to be.  Every time he interacted with you lately, he wanted to mention it, but he couldn’t figure a casual way to say, “hey, I’m being paid to watch you, I sleep in the woods outside your trailer a few nights a week, but I’m starting to have feelings, and was wondering if you were free for dinner?”

Steve pulled his shoulder’s back, puffing his chest out a bit.  “If you want to know more about what she is, why don’t you just ask her, man? What’s with all the cloak and dagger?”

Jareth pushed off the desk and walked over to look at a piece of abstract splatter art on the wall while he spoke, clasping his hands behind his back.  “My presence at her trailer park would certainly ring some alarms, I’m sure you are not so dense,” his tone was condescending but proper.  “I don’t want anyone, especially Munson, to know that I have any interest in her. Not yet, anyway.”

Since Steve had been watching you, he was also well aware of Eddie’s comings and goings. “Eddie hasn’t interacted with her in weeks, not that I’ve seen,” Steve told him.  “Appears like the two are avoiding each other.”

Jareth scoffed.  “I’m not particularly a fan of his, but when Edward has a job to do, he does it well,” he turned from the painting and went around the desk.  “My gut tells me that he has something up his sleeve, and my gut is never wrong.”

Steve let the information sink in.  “You don’t think Eddie would hurt her? He’s a car thief and a drug dealer, but not a killer.”

Jareth bent down to pretend to look at some paperwork, but then his eyes lifted to Steve and he smirked. “Is that what he told you?”

“We’ve never really talked but—”

“I’ve been doing my own investigating, but until I get some answers, just get close to her however you can, I want to accelerate this end game.”

“And what endgame is that?” Steve’s voice was low and commanding as he pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to reveal the generous muscles in his forearms.  He rested his back against the wall, not sure he wanted to know the answer. 

“The official endgame, Sir Harrington,” Jareth’s striking, ancient blue eyes gleamed.  “Is none of your business.”

—---

“Sorry about that,” you told Steve as you climbed into the cab of his truck. “I had no idea he was coming over.”  

You were apologizing for Eddie, of course, and the way he’d been giving Steve the death stare when he’d come to pick you up.  The snow was coming down harder now, in huge wet flakes the size of quarters, plopping like dissolving puffs of cotton onto the windshield of the truck.

“Was he bothering you?” Steve asked protectively, glaring at the door to Eddie’s trailer while you fumbled with your seatbelt.  

“No, he’s…he’s just a friend,” you said, trying to blink away the flashes of all of the sex dreams you had of him that were ricocheting through your head. 

After Eddie had stepped out of your trailer and shut the door, he’d stood on your porch for a minute, taking his time to light a cigarette before slowly making his way over to his place.  He made eye contact with Steve a few times through the windsheild, wondering if he should kill him.

The inside of Steve’s big old truck was warm, it smelled like winter wool and the yellow vanilla car freshener he had hanging from the radio knob.  The song Working Man by Rush played low from the speakers.  

You’d heard about the Werewolves of Hawkins from Bob and Argyle when a few of them came into the bar one night.  Apparently, they were very reclusive and only ventured to town in human form every so often.  

“Have you never seen a werewolf before?” Bob Newby, the owner of the bar you worked at, asked you with a tilt of his head and a curious smile.  “They’re all over the woods.  Beautiful creatures.”

He’d said it so casually, as if a man turning into a wolf and roaming around at night was the most normal thing in the world.  

“Are there no werewolves where you come from?” Argyle asked while he wiped down a bottle of tequila.  

You moved your eyes as if to think.  “Uh, nope, not that I know of anyway.  Hawkins is the only place I’ve ever heard of them ever existing before.  What’s next? Are you going to tell me that Faeries and Shapeshifters are real too?”

Bob and Argyle exchanged a knowing look.  Bob gave you a consolation pat on the back, “one day at a time there, missy.  Let’s give you a chance to get used to werewolves first, and then we can move on to the next.”

That night in the darkness of the movie theater with Steve, you turned to whisper in his ear.  “Can you change into a werewolf whenever you want, or only during a full moon?”

He chuckled, leaning in so that his cheek was on your head. He was so warm, you wondered if he had a fever.  “When you’re a pup, in the early days, the transformation happens at the most awkward times.  Once we get older and learn how to control our emotions, we can go through the change whenever we need to.”

“Like right now?” Your lips were close to his neck, breath tickling his skin, giving him goosebumps.  

The side of his mouth moved against your forehead. “Just say the word, darlin’.”

Your hands fumbled together a few times while reaching for popcorn at the same time, and a voice in your head said:

This is nice

Steve is nice

Steve was a good guy who probably thought you were a normal woman who’d led a fairly typical life, and you worried you were misleading him.  

There were a few times though, after the movie and on the ride back, when you felt like he wanted to tell you something, but then he would stop short.  He’d rub the back of his neck and start out with, “yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” but then he’d shake his head and jump to another topic.  

Steve cursed to himself at how bad he was fumbling the night, he felt like he was a goddamn teenager again. 

The only thing he knew for sure after that night was that he liked you a lot, and more than ever he needed to cut ties with Jareth. He’d been meaning to break free from the politics of the pack to become a Lone Wolf, and this felt like the perfect opportunity.  He was next in line to be Alpha, but it was a role that he had no interest in playing.  

Parked next to the hearse in front of your trailer again, the snow had stopped, but it was up to your ankles now, and you couldn’t help but notice the light in Eddie’s living room was on.  

“Here, wait, let me walk you,” Steve insisted.

“No, I’m good,” you were already on the ground, looking up at him across the seat.  “If Bela hears your voice too close to the house, she’ll just go nuts again.”

You'd told him about your new companion earlier, and he looked at you like you'd decided to take in a pet dragon.

“I’ll wait here until I know you got in okay.” Steve said softly, giving you a nod.  “Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

“I’m, well, I think–” you stammered.  Was Steve about to ask you on an actual date? “I might pick up a shift at Main Vein tomorrow night.”

“There’s going to be a reading at the bookstore, and I promised Robin I’d help string some lights and set up some chairs.  So, I’ll be in the neighborhood if you want to get something to eat or, whatever.  I’d really like to see you again.”

He said the last part in a rush, partially hoping you wouldn’t catch it.

The admission made your cheeks hot under his steady gaze.

You told him you’d stop by if you weren’t waitressing, and at your front door with the key in the lock, you turned to wave at him one more time over your shoulder before slipping inside to flip the deadlock behind you.  You closed your eyes and leaned against the door until you heard the rumble of his truck growl onto the main road, and then you flipped the lights on.  

“Mr. Wonderful couldn’t walk you to the door?” 

The voice made you jump and a scream caught in your throat.

Eddie was sitting on your couch, arms stretched out over the back of it, as if it were his trailer and he’d been expecting you.  

You let the shock of it subside, taking a long breath to slow your heart rate. 

You hung your bag on the hook by the door and started to shrug out of your coat.  “You know, when I invited you in, I didn’t mean break in whenever you felt like it.”

“I didn’t break in,” he lowered one arm and rested that hand between his legs. “I know where you hide your spare key.”

“It’s not funny, Eddie,” you threw your jacket on the recliner.  “I’d like you to leave now, please.”

“How was your date?” He bit out the last part.

“I’m not answering any of your questions,” you stopped in your tracks and looked around, suddenly alert.  “Where is Bela? I don’t hear her.  Eddie, if you did anything to her, I will —-”

“I would never hurt her,” he moved to stand up, and under his breath he added, “or you.”

“So?” You flapped your arms out, impatiently, blood pressure spiking.  “Where is she?”

Eddie came forward and put a finger to his lips, motioning for you to lower your voice.  He guided you down the hallway, ignoring your protests, until he arrived at your bedroom door and turned the knob, opening it slowly.

Bela was curled up on your bed in a blanket, breathing heavy like she’d just been dosed with a tranquilizer.  

“She broke out again while you were gone,” he whispered.  “Blew the bathroom door right off its hinges and came scratching at my door like maybe I had you.”

Your eyes went to the window across the room, seeing that there were boards hammered over it now, which was more of Eddie’s handiwork.

Feeling you softening at his side, Eddie pulled the door closed with a click.  You were having a hard time meeting his eyes.  You’d been so mad at him, so ready to scream and kick him out into the snow.

“She let you hold her?” You asked, noticing that you no longer had a bathroom door, Eddie must’ve taken it out to fix it.

“I'm charming, what can I say?” he shrugged.  “And I gave her some of my blood from a little eyedropper.”

“You what?” You spun on him, appalled.

“Don’t sound so horrified,” He put his hands on his hips once you reached the kitchen.  “They need vampire blood to calm their nervous system.  She’ll sleep like a baby now.”

In the book you were reading, the author did say that demobats who drank regular doses of vampire blood seemed to fare better than the others, but you’d decided to disregard that information as speculation.  

“In that case, I guess I should say thank you,” you opened the fridge and took out the Brita water filter and a glass from the cupboard.  

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his thigh against the counter.  “Did that Steve guy try to make a move on you or what?”

You frowned at him.  “Listen, you don’t get to invade my space and bombard me with personal questions.  Why does it matter so much to you what we did?”

“I don’t trust him,” Eddie had his eyes trained on one spot in front of him, studying a patch of air while he worked his jaw.  

“If it’s any comfort, I don’t think he cares much for you, either.”

Eddie’s head spun to look at you.  “What did he say about me?”

“Nothing!” You clarified, raising the tone of your voice to match his. “He didn’t mention you at all, actually.  It’s just a feeling I got.”

You took a drink, and when you put the glass back down, Eddie moved in, bracketing your hips with his hands on the countertop, caging you there while he searched your eyes.  “Did he kiss you?”

You didn’t answer right away, and so he asked it again.

“Did he kiss you?”

The way his lips hovered there so close to yours made you swallow hard. The air between the    two of you crackled with electricity.  You waited for his eyes to go black, for his fangs to eject, for him to take your blood into his mouth like he had that night in the alley.  

“Would it bother you if he had?” There was an air of pleading in your tone that you had not intended to be there.

Please let it bother you.

Eddie slid his bottom lip through his teeth and leaned back, stepping away from you.  “I just think you should keep your distance from him, that’s all.  Werewolves are notoriously…” he trailed off as if searching for the right word. “...undisciplined.”

You wondered about Eddie’s discipline, how hard it was for him not to go the rest of the way and claim you just then.  To sink his teeth in and suck on that nectar of yours that he craved so deeply.  You could see the desire in his eyes, the way the brown irises melted into umber and his pupils expanded.  

You would not have stopped him, that was the final truth of it.

In that moment, you knew that if Eddie Munson wanted to kiss you, you would not put up a fight. 

You would not pull back and ask, “what are you doing?”

You would just know. 

“I changed the bulb in your porch light, by the way,” he added on his way to the door.  “Noticed it was out.”

You did not turn to watch him go, you kept your back to him.  “Thank you again for Bela and for boarding up the window.”

He mumbled something under his breath that made you look over your shoulder.  “What was that?”

He stopped in his tracks with his hand on the doorknob, hair long around the shoulder of his leather jacket.  “I said, you know where I am, if you ever need anything.”

Eddie stepped out onto your front porch and exhaled a shuddering, long-held breath.  He shut his eyes and rubbed the heels of his palms into them.  “Holy shit, Munson, you are such an idiot,” he scolded himself, feeling a sprinkle of snow again on his flesh.  

He took a step down and then paused, thinking he should go back in.

Thinking he should tell you…everything.

Maybe you would understand.

Maybe you’d lean into his kiss and pull him closer.

Maybe…

But then the shadow of uncertainty shrouded him and he kept going.

—-------

You ended up covering for Argyle behind the bar the next night while he went to California for a week, and thankfully it was a slow shift because you were still figuring out what alcohol went in which drink.  But then a crowd of people on their way to the poetry reading at Robin’s came through, and two of them were vampires, so you had to get out the manual to remember which synthetic blood type to use in the various mixtures.

“Another whiskey with a beer back for the Chief,” Erica scooted up next to you and tapped your arm to get you to lean in closer to her.  “Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”

Jim Hopper was in a booth by himself in the dimly lit room, facing the door, and you had noticed that he seemed very interested in getting a good look at everyone who came in that evening. He still had his uniform on, since he was only recently off the clock, and he was tapping his knee and chewing on the side of his fingernail with some type of anticipation.

You knew that if you got closer, you’d be able to get a better read on his emotional state.

“I’ll take it to him,” you said to Erica, and then the two of you talked about the movie you went to with Steve because she hated it and said she was angry those were two hours of her life she could never get back.  “I can’t believe you let a werewolf take you on a date,” she squinted.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking for trouble.”

You moved around her with both of Jim’s drinks and winked.  “I’m the one who’s trouble.  They come looking for me.”

“Oh I believe that,” she quipped in your wake.

The closer you got to Jim, the more you could sense the yearning inside of him.  There was desperation with sadness around the edges, and the hint of a familiar sinister urge, much like you’d felt with the Klemps all those weeks ago.  

His eyes met yours only briefly when you set his drinks down, and then you asked if he wanted one menu or two.  

“Not tonight, thanks.  I’m waiting for someone, and then I need to split,” he nodded as he warmed the whiskey in his big hands and wiped a sheen of perspiration from his forehead.

Well, there was your answer.

You and Hopper both looked up when the door opened that time, and you were pleasantly surprised to see Steve standing there.  Shoulders broad in his plaid shirt and his luscious head of hair looking wild from the wind outside.  His face lit up when he saw you. 

“Hey stranger,” you walked over to him, beaming.  

Steve had been pacing out on the sidewalk between the bookstore and the bar for the past 15 minutes trying to decide if he should go in or not.  By the way you were smiling at him, he could tell he'd made the right decision.  

“Hey, you,” he gave a smirk and raked his big hand through his unruly hair a few times.  He glanced around at the 8 or 9 customers.  “Do you have a break soon?  Or can I bring you anything?”

“My shift is over in an hour,” you talked as you returned to your station, waving at Bob through the serving hatch.  Steve rested his elbow on the bar.  “I was thinking I’d make my way over to the bookstore if you’re still around.”

“Oh I think I’ll be around,” he assured, tapping his knuckles on the wood, not wanting to sound too eager.  Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Erica glaring at him.  She was not much of a fan of the supernatural.  

Right behind Steve, a strikingly beautiful woman with short black hair and red lips strolled in. She had a long leather coat that she pulled tightly around her as she walked, and she appeared to know exactly where she was going, strolling over with ancient grace  to Jim’s table.  He stood up to greet her, and then they hunched across the table toward each other as if they were telling secrets.  

You realized you were staring as you spotted a tiny vial of dark liquid in her palm just before she slid it across the way to him under a cupped hand.  

“I’ll come back when you’re finished,” Steve said a few other things, but your mind had not retained them.  “We can walk over together.”

“Sure,” you said absently.  The mysterious woman with Jim got up and left after only a minute or two. Jim downed the rest of his drink, left a tip, and exited out the back, putting his hat on as he went.  

A bit later, as you were changing out of your apron in the back room and counting your bills, you wondered where Eddie was and what he was doing.

It made you curse out loud, the persistent way your mind clung to him.

It was irrational and wholly unfair.  

You wanted him to pull up in the GTO and tell you to get in without any explanation of why or where you were going. 

The customers continued to wane, and Bob told you to skedaddle 20 minutes earlier than you’d expected, so you figured you’d get a head start and meet Steve half way. Erica flipped you off, playfully mocking the fact that you could go home before her.  You snuggled down into your winter coat and pushed through the employee door that led to the parking lot at the greeting of a gust of bitingly cold wind.  You stopped to pull your gloves out of your pockets and the door that could only be opened from the inside locked shut behind you.  

When you looked up, Jareth stepped out of the shadows and loomed there, blocking your path.  

“I’m afraid you'll have to come with me, love.”  

----

hugs and kisses, thank you so much for reading! Your comments, asks, and reblogs mean the world xoxo

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[paceprompting]

in the spotlight

First fic for @steddiesmuttyseptember!

(playful) Make-up sex | service dom | mile high club | pillow princess

rated: m | 4281 words

🍂

“I cannot believe you!”

Eddie stormed through the front door of the trailer and left it flung open behind him. He tossed his bag onto the couch, dice clattering and papers crumpling inside as it hit the edge of the cushion and then thumped to the floor. Eddie ignored it, making a clear path to the fridge to crack open a Coke.

Steve followed behind, wearing the same pleased-with-himself smile that he had been for fifteen minutes. He closed the door and stood in the living room, hands tucked into his front pockets. Standing there in his striped polo shirt and fitted jeans, staring at Eddie as though he hadn’t just derailed Eddie’s entire campaign.

That villain was supposed to last them through three more sessions and now, poof, defeated. Gone. Finito.

Eddie took a deep swig of his drink, fighting back to urge to cough when it went down rough.

“I cannot believe you,” he repeated, softer this time. And Steve still just smiled and ducked his head, because he knows what he did, damn it, and he still hadn’t apologized for it.

Steve tipped his head up, putting on display the moles scattered across his throat. He rolled his shoulders and then once again met Eddie’s gaze, still smirking. Still an asshole. He was beautiful, but Eddie was fighting quite hard to ignore that.

“Eddie, you asked me to play,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t think you were going to figure out my big villain’s weakness in two turns.” Eddie groaned and set his soda on the table, liquid spilling over the top onto the table. He ran furious fingers through his hair, lucky that none of his rings caught and yanked. “I worked on that thing for two weeks!”

And then, he’d had to ride in the passenger seat of the Beemer—because Steve was a decent boyfriend, damn him, and offered to drive Eddie. Steve had sent his campaign into utter collapse and then afterwards still made sure to get the door for Eddie and let Eddie grumble and mumble to himself the whole way home until he was ready to blurt it all out.

The entire time wearing his pleased little smirk.

“You can’t be mad that I defeated the bad guy. Mike roleplayed for fifteen minutes trying to get that sword he thought was secretly magic. I thought Dustin was going to claw his eyes out.”

Eddie did nearly chuck dice at Wheeler’s head when he refused to get the hint that there was nothing for him in that shop. But he was a decent DM, if he did say so himself, and he decided to wait properly until there was something in game that he could use to target Wheeler’s character. Not to kill him, just a slight maiming to remind him that he wasn’t the main character.

Until Steve Harrington just…Steve Harrington.

“And I would have properly punished him with a thorough smack-down, if someone hadn’t killed the villain first!”

Steve snorted and Eddie rolled his eyes. They’d had worse fights than this—arguments that were actually fights and not Eddie trying to keep his dignity without being a brat. Because it wasn’t the end of the world, but that wasn’t the point.

“It was a lucky shot. You can’t be upset about a guess,” Steve was saying, his shoulders coming down at the end of a shrug that Eddie had nearly missed.

And fuck yes, he could. Two rounds into combat, Steve pulled out a bow that shot frozen arrows and uncovered the key weakness to Eddie’s main villain! Of course, Eddie had forgotten that Steve’s character had gotten that weapon because he never used it. It was supposed to be something that the party learned over time.

God, Eddie had wanted Steve to try playing D&D so badly, he hadn’t stopped to think that it would mean Steve would be playing in front of him. Where Eddie had the best seat to see the whole table and never miss a single thing that Steve did: rolling dice, taking notes in his chicken scratch, and describing in detail how his character moved through Eddie’s world. Strong hands gesturing and flexing and—

Fuck. Focus.

“I’m not upset you beat him.” Eddie twisted the ring on his middle finger, stopping only when it caught on the tender skin. “I’m upset that it was hot!”

“Um,”Steve said, staring. “What?”

He let his hand fall from his pockets, brow furrowed in the way it did when Eddie’s strange behavior threw him for a loop. Steve knew what he looked like, knew where it could get him when he put it to use—but only when he was trying to get that attention. When he wanted to get the girl or get into bed, and he put on his best Harrington charm to do so.

He was never trying to entice Eddie while playing a nerdy little game with their flock of sheep, and that was almost worse. He wasn’t even trying, and still Eddie had nearly jumped his bones right there at the table.

Eddied started pacing in front of Steve, and the trailer didn’t creak like the old one used to, but Eddie’s steps were still heavy on the linoleum. “I asked you how you wanted to kill the monster. Yeah, I was already a little annoyed—”

“A little,” Steve echoed with a gentle tease, stepping close to Eddie and absolutely trying now. Ducking his head so his perfect hair fell just into his eyes and his voice dropped low and filtered into Eddie’s bloodstream.

And Steve had already derailed one set of Eddie’s plans tonight. Eddie wasn’t just going to let him do it again.

“Very annoyed that you’d beaten my villain and you’d rolled a damn nineteen to do it. And then you opened your mouth.” Eddie spun on his heel, pressing his hand against Steve’s chest and pushing back. Steve’s eyes widened as his surprise allowed Eddie to corral him against the front of the fridge and press the lines of their bodies together.

He started breathing a little harder, chest rising under Eddie’s palm, but he grinned all the same. It nearly floored Eddie every time, not only getting to see the expression up close, but because it was for him. The Freak somehow managed to get his hands on something beautiful, and he still wasn’t quite sure how.

Eddie curled his fingers into the fabric of Steve’s shirt, leaning into him. Smiling himself when Steve’s hand came up to rest on the side of Eddie’s ribs, holding him close. Eddie tipped his chin up to murmur against Steve’s mouth, just on this side of not really being a kiss.“And I forget sometimes that you know what you’re doing. That you’ve fought real monsters and, fuck, between the way you described the killing blow, using your hands to show me just how you’d do it, and seeing how far you’ve come from when you started.”

Steve blushed, a bright coloring across his cheeks, and let out a soft laugh. Almost self-conscious. Because Steve hadn’t been good at D&D, not at first. And he’d known that. The kids had known. He’d had to make mistakes in front of them to learn, starting timid and quiet until the party proved they were more likely to smack Mike upside the head for opening his big mouth than they were to get after Steve.

And he’d done it.

“You might even rival me as a DM one day if you keep it up,” Eddie said. Steve laughed again, but Eddie didn’t.

If it ever happened, he might have to tie himself to his chair to keep from launching himself at Steve, but he’d be the first one at the table for a Steve Harrington campaign. And he’d finally get to be back on the other side of flirting with the DM.

“Oh, I’d never take that from you. I could never keep it all straight,” Steve said, sliding his hand up from Eddie’s ribs to cradle the side of his jaw. He slipped his fingers into Eddie’s hair, deep into the curls and always on the right side of Eddie’s face to avoid where there had been a tender, healing wound where now there was a scar. He could touch it now, if he wanted to. But he never did.

“I wish you could see yourself sometimes; I get so caught up watching you I realize I wasn’t even listening. Which was fine when I wasn’t playing, and now I have to catch myself before you catch me not paying attention.” Steve pressed their foreheads together, always so warm and solid. Helped to keep Eddie together when physical therapy felt worse than all the bats trying to eat him.

Eddie preened at Steve’s admission. For anyone else, he would make sure to put on a show of idle threats about not giving their full attention to all his hard work. But that wasn’t completely fair to Steve, not when Eddie had just pinned him against the fridge because he was so hot and bothered from listening to Steve’s description of slaying a lizard king.

“Feeling’s mutual, babe,” Eddie murmured, going in for a kiss.

Steve’s hand tightened in Eddie’s hair, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t yank or pull, just a soft pulse against his scalp followed by the warm embrace of Steve’s arm around Eddie’s waist. He fit his thigh between Eddie’s legs to settle them better, and then titled Eddie’s head to plant a soft kiss.

Eddie rolled his eyes before he closed them, moving his mouth along with Steve, his hands holding onto the front of his polo shirt. He arched his back to get closer to Steve, parting his lips in hopes of a little bit of tongue, but Steve denied him and pulled away instead. His head knocked lightly back against the fridge.

“Just had to be you who started it, huh?” Eddie teased.

Steve lolled his head in Eddie’s direction, pupils dark and dilated. He quirked the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Eddie drawled, but he didn’t get much farther than that before Steve hooked his ankle around Eddie’s and switched their positions, directing Eddie against the counter beside the fridge. The chain hanging from his belt loops smacked into the cabinets. But honestly, most of the furniture in the trailer had already been through worse between his and Steve’s activities and Eddie’s general lack of spatial awareness.

Steve put his thigh back between Eddie’s legs, and there was no way he couldn’t feel just how worked up he’d been since Hellfire, especially now that he had all of solidly muscled and warm Steve Harrington pressed up against him. He moved his hands out of the way, holding on the edge of the counter. He gave a pleased moan when Steve moved closer, closer and placed his lips at the curve of Eddie’s ear, brushing curls out of his way with his nose.

“But you had fun?” he asked, soft and low.

“For the most part.” Eddie tilted his head, silently asking for Steve’s mouth. More, always more. Because he somehow hadn’t found Steve’s limit on what he’d give.

He felt the puff of Steve’s breath against his skin. Shivered when Steve’s hands untucked his shirt from his jeans and eased underneath the fabric on the rough pattern of Eddie’s skin. He’d never wanted anyone to touch, to see what had happened to his body, but Steve had never asked. He let Eddie direct his hands there the first time and the few more times after until Eddie told him Fucking touch me already, I need your hands on me, Harrington.

“Feeling like you were in control? Getting to direct me around, at the whim of the DM?” Even though Steve was talking of Eddie’s domain over the party’s adventure, he cupped his hands underneath Eddie’s thighs and lifted him onto the counter.

“At the whim of the dice,” Eddie corrected through a gasp. There was already so much clutter that he could only balance on the very edge, but Eddie had no worries that Steve would let him fall.

“Yeah, but you’re in charge in of the show. Pulling the strings behind your screen, watching the pieces you set up fall into place. You want us to succeed, at least a little, but you don’t make it easy. Huh, baby?” Steve chuckled, fingers tracing along the seam of Eddie’s jeans where the curve of his butt started, even if he didn’t have as much as Steve in that department. It also didn’t mean Steve ever kept his hands to himself, thank God.

Eddie tried to rock his hips against Steve, but was held in place before he got very far. His blood thrummed through his veins, but he hated it at the same time. He wanted and his patience had been shit his entire life. But Steve’s was entirely too practiced and all Eddie could do was tip his head back and groan.

“Steve…”

He tucked his face into Eddie’s throat, teasing the edge of his teeth on sensitive skin. He dug it a little, just once, but Eddie flung his hand up into Steve’s hair and dug into the thickest part at the back. Eddie’s hair covered most marks and impressions of teeth, but it wasn’t always a sure thing. Not with Steve Harrington.

“I know how hard you worked on it. I’m sorry that it ended so quickly. But now,” Steve said, drawing one of Eddie’s legs up around his hip. “I’m going to make it up to you, all right?”

Eddie nearly panted. He knew Steve could carry him—at least to his bedroom. He’d done it before, but he was torturing Eddie with the possibility of it now. The wide spread of his palms across Eddie’s thighs, sleeves of his shirt tightening around his biceps as he flexed and readied to carry Eddie’s entire weight against his chest.

Eddie hoped that’s what was fucking happening, anyway.

“Steve, it’s not that big a deal,” he said. Playing along or trying to make sure that Steve wasn’t throwing more of himself than he needed to at the problem to try and earn back Eddie’s forgiveness. But Steve smiled against his throat and dragged his mouth back up to Eddie’s lips for a short, teasing kiss. He parted with a soft bite on Eddie’s bottom lip, much too pleased with himself.

“So you don’t want me to spend the next few hours doing nothing but kissing and touching and making you cum?” Steve practically purred, the words rumbling in his chest.

Eddie tipped back his head, letting out a huff of air toward the ceiling. “I didn’t say that.”

Steve got it in his head sometimes that Eddie needed to be laid out and taken care of. And that Steve needed to be the one to do it. Sometimes it was because Eddie was so close to vibrating out of his skin that it was either Steve take over or there was usually collateral damage that involved a mug or someone else’s short-term feelings when Eddie finally snapped.

And other times Steve just wanted to touch, to give everything he had to Eddie. He still wouldn’t admit it, but Eddie had long guessed that Steve clutched hard to those he cared about. To keep them from realizing that he was too much and leaving.

But Eddie broke the mold of “too much.” And he’d let Steve give whatever he wanted, because he was really taking at the same time. Taking what he needed from Eddie. Under the guise of the babysitter, the caretaker, making sure Eddie knew just how much he felt.

“I thought so,” Steve hummed, grabbing onto Eddie’s legs and lifting him up with a soft grunt. Eddie hooked his ankles together and gathered Steve’s hair into his hands, pressing his cheek to Steve’s temple. The low-burning embers in his gut whenever he was around Steve flared to life as he carried Eddie across the trailer into his bedroom.

It wasn’t the same level as it was before, but Eddie had managed to re-clutter most of the wall space and his new desk. Replaced all his D&D books and was working on replacing all his band tees. Federal goons had no sense of decorum when they’d hauled off the old trailer and left Eddie with whatever Wayne could grab before they kicked him out.

At least he didn’t have to replace too much of his tape collection. Bless Wayne for managing that.

But Wayne wasn’t there, working a shift with double pay until later that night. Feds were good for something, anyway.

There was only Steve, with his broad palms across the back of Eddie’s thighs, fingers digging into the bonier form of his ass until he could tip them both onto Eddie’s bed. The bed was low enough that Eddie’s boots laid flat on the ground over the edge of the mattress, even when Eddie laid completely on his back.

Steve planted his hands on either side of Eddie’s head, standing between Eddie’s legs. The swooping strands of his hair hung in his face, directing Eddie’s gaze to his eyes, brown and blown out and focused entirely on Eddie. He’d been growing it out just a bit, still recognizably Steve but evolved and more comfortable in his own skin.

Steve never did anything in bed by halves. Anything, period, really. He never seemed, even at the beginning, like he was trying to do anything he could to distract himself from the fact that Eddie was a guy. Steve had touched him everywhere as soon as Eddie let him, and his mouth usually followed right after. Always lingering, always exploring

Eddie pushed up onto his elbows and planted his mouth on Steve’s, both of them laughing through their noses when Eddie ended up knocking them together. Steve kept his hands on the bed, bracing only his fingertips, while Eddie slipped his tongue past Steve’s lips. He pushed up, up to make Steve stand. They had to stop kissing, but it wasn’t like either of them were going anywhere anytime soon.

His hands went straight to Steve’s belt, hooking behind the buckle to pull Steve close. He slid the end out of its loop, but that was as far as he got before Steve closed one hand around both his wrists—good fucking Lord, honestly—and pulled them away with a soft tutting sound.

“Uh-uh, you lie back right here. You’re not doing anything tonight, remember?”

Eddie frowned, obstinately keeping his fingers tucked in the space between Steve’s belt and the waistband of his obscenely fitted jeans. He was hard, Eddie could tell and take advantage of it by rubbing his thumb along the length through the denim.

Steve breathed out through his nose, eyes darkening. Eddie did it again. Didn’t care that it ended with Steve twisting his arm with the grip around Eddie’s wrists and leveraged them above Eddie’s head, laying him out on his back once again. He hovered over Eddie, breaths mixing in the small space between their mouths.

His free hand—because Steve only needed one to keep Eddie right where he needed him—slipped underneath Eddie’s shirt. Rough fingers dragged along his stomach, pushing the fabric up and revealing his scarred body to the open air. Steve kept going, letting Eddie’s hands free to start getting the shirt up over Eddie’s head.

“Get up by those pillows, sweetheart,” he said, tossing the Hellfire shirt aside. And Eddie did, backing up the mattress until he could rest his head on the pillows that covered up the entirety of his headboard when no one was sleeping in it.

Most of his life, he’d only ever used one pillow for himself. Even when he’d had to replace all his bedding, he’d only bought one. And then Steve had started coming over. Staying over night after night and somehow that meant Eddie had accumulated three more pillows in the process.

The only explanation he’d gotten was that Steve didn’t like smacking his elbow against the wall from his side of the bed.

Not that it had ever happened as far as Eddie knew.

But he thought it might have had something to do with this—the way Steve stared hungrily at him as Eddie lounged amongst the pillows. How his curls spread out around his head like a halo, inviting every bit of Steve’s attention. How he spread his legs with one foot tucked underneath his knee and let his arms splay on either side of his head.

Eddie liked it too. Being laid out for his boyfriend.

Something in his eyes must have flared with his thoughts, because Steve grinned and then crawled onto the bed after Eddie. He made quick work of Eddie’s jeans, flicking the button open with one hand, the showoff. Eddie made a show himself of rolling his eyes, but Steve was too busy stripping Eddie bare. He sat up onto his knees between Eddie’s open legs, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

It untucked his shirt just enough to flash a glimpse of the dark trail of hair leading into Steve’s jeans. It shouldn’t be so hot, not with the fucking striped polo Steve was wearing.

He still couldn’t convince Steve to wear a Hellfire shirt. He wanted to think that Steve was just fucking with him at this point in refusing, but sometimes Eddie wondered if Steve didn’t feel like anything more than a stand-in at the table. Even though he’d played with them for over two months straight—after sitting in on the end of the last campaign on top of that—Eddie didn’t know how to prove that Steve had long earned his spot in the party.

But the point was, Steve was exactly as he was when he’d walked into the trailer after Eddie. Striped polo, tucked into his jeans and his white sneakers tying off the boy-next-door look that Eddie adored despite his better judgment. Minus the flush to his skin, Steve was fully dressed.

He hadn’t taken off a single thing.

Eddie didn’t have a shred of clothing on him, decorated only with his ink and the rough sections of scars on his sides, his arms, the side of his jaw. And Steve was all covered up, the denim of his jeans dragging against Eddie’s burning skin when he leaned down and planted his mouth right on Eddie’s collarbone.

He tilted his head when Steve wandered upward, teeth grazing and biting lightly on his throat. Twisted the fabric of his ridiculous polo at the shoulder and rocked his leaking dick against Steve. Against the rough friction of his jeans, and Steve just moved his leg into a better position for him without needing to be asked.

Eddie whined, pushing his face into the closest pillow. He couldn’t stop his hips even if he wanted to, even when he had to twist his body in an awkward way to push up into Steve’s hand rolling a nipple between his fingers.

Sparks burst behind his eyes when Steve bit down at the junction of his neck and shoulder, but Steve was up and moving to put messy, wet kissed down Eddie’s chest and stomach before he could thread a hand through Steve’s hair and pull in retaliation.

Steve looked up at him from his spot at Eddie’s belly button like he knew exactly what he’d done.

He traveled lower, slow and syrupy kisses on the slight softness of Eddie’s belly. Then teasing bites on the tops of his thighs, down closer to the more sensitive skin. He didn’t move Eddie’s legs; waited until Eddie moaned and spread them for Steve himself.

Cradling Eddie’s hips in his hands, Steve licked and sucked his way to Eddie’s cock, leaking against his thigh. Took the head into his mouth with a soft hum, staying there as Eddie let out a soft moan.

Eddie could already tell what he was in for. Should have known immediately when Steve promised to make up for something that Eddie wasn’t even truly bothered by.

Steve wasn’t going to let him up from his bed until every inch of him had been marked either by a soft kiss or a sharp bite from Steve’s teeth. He was going to take Eddie all the way into his mouth, tease his entrance with gentle touches until Eddie squirmed and whined, but didn’t beg. He was still a brat about begging, and at this point it was more of a show than anything.

Steve was going to ruin him, slow and steady. Piece by piece, and keeping his clothes firmly on the whole time because Eddie liked to touch, but it wasn’t about Steve.

He was going to make Eddie cum from his mouth, first. That was one of Steve’s favorites, because damn if those particular rumors had turned out to be fucking true. And Eddie fucking reaped the rewards from it.

Then he’d get Steve’s fingers. Parting his lips to get wet and slick enough for one or two inside him, before Steve caved and went for the lube. He’d get Steve’s mouth and his hands, and that was usually when he started losing track between the parts of bare skin he’d manage to touch between the drag of Steve’s clothes.

All he’d know was Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve.

And all of his attention, the spotlight of Steve’s focus, would be Eddie.

[rosenbergamot]

Everyone is Trans???? (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

Grian is the only trans person on Hermitcraft.

He knows this as a complete and utter fact. He’s not lying about this, no matter how much he wishes he was-- and goodness, does he wish he was every damn day of his life. It’s lonely to be the only trans person on a server full of your dearest companions. 

It’s not even a horrible thing. He doesn’t trust them any less, doesn’t love them any less, but he sure is peeved about being surrounded by cis people all the time. When he wants to talk about his hips looking too wide today, or his top surgery scars not sitting right enough for him, or the way he’s so happy he can finally grow something of a beard, or how having long hair has gone from something dysphoric to something euphoric for him-- he just can’t! 

Because they won’t understand! And, sure, of course he can just tell them because they’re his friends and they care about him, but sometimes he doesn’t want to just be cared about. Sometimes he wants to be understood. Sometimes he doesn’t want to have to explain everything, going through the same tiring motions he’s gone over time and time again in his life. 

Can a guy not just want another trans person to complain to? Is it really so hard for that to be his reality? Is it really so much to ask?

He’s having a particularly annoying day today. His stupid jeans aren’t fitting correctly on his hips. Usually he’s not too angry about it. On days where he feels more feminine he likes that he has these hips, revels in the way clothes hug his curves, but right now he’s feeling just about as Man as one possibly could, and it’s making him want to rip apart his clothes because none of them fit right. 

He ends up in a pair of sweatpants that hide enough of himself so that he’s able to leave his base. The day outside is warmer than expected, beautiful and sunny, and he immediately regrets the large sweater and comfy sweatpants he had chosen to wear. The light glints off of the ocean, teasing him with its deep secrets that he will never be able to decipher. 

In the distance he can see the newest addition to Scar’s train-- the big snail that those pesky snails had built. It worries him that they can build things all of a sudden. Still, it’s not like he can do anything about it. You just have to accept that they’re going to do whatever they please and then they’ll tone it down. It seems they like to cause mayhem. He can’t really knock them for that. 

He unhooks Pluto from the post. He runs his hands through his mane, reveling in the coarse feeling. It takes his mind away from his body for a few seconds, lets him be completely and utterly still in a way that he often isn’t. Being so detail oriented and such a perfectionist can be hard on the psyche sometimes, especially when that energy is directed towards your body. 

You might as well roll his boulder and call him Sisyphus because he’s… uh…

He’s having a rough go at it. 

Pluto whinnies as he stops petting him, nudges his hand with his snout. It’s time to go check the shopping district. Maybe do permit things. Ugh. 

The ride is uneventful. He smashes the glass to the permit office with his pickaxe, picks it back up and replaces it so that nobody gets any funny ideas. Don’t want them bothering him or anything of the sorts when he’s here. Having to work is his worst nightmare.

The office is as quiet as it is dark. He sighs so loud it fills up the space. He freshens up the light, makes sure that the sign telling people the door is out of order is in place, and then moves behind the filing cabinets, taking a look at his uniform that sits there.

Usually he likes how it fits. It’s tight, accentuating his flat chest and his curves. He likes it that way. Not today though. 

Today he’ll forgo the outfit. It’s not like anyone is going to come in, anyways.

--

Twenty minutes later and he was very wrong. Someone is digging underneath the building, muttering to themselves, and Grian guesses who it is before he even pops his head in. 

Of course Scar of all people needs help with permits today. He’s always looking for any chance he gets to bother Grian into doing work. He puts down his book, eyes him with an anger that he knows feels inappropriate even for him. Sue him, he’s having a bad day.

“Grian!” Scar’s voice is louder than he remembered. He’s got specks of dirt on his face. 

He shoves his shovel into the dirt, leans on it, falls over a little bit as it teeters, tries to right himself, ends up just knocking the shovel over instead, stands up straight, puts his hands behind his back. Stops. Coughs. Smiles. Continues yapping.

���It’s so lovely to see you here! It’s such a coinkidink that fate would put the both of us here! In the permit office! At the same time! Almost as if we’re destined to meet here and do paperwork together and-- and help me with my permit so that I can actually do something as a zoo keeper…” His voice is quieter at the end. Grian pretends not to hear it. 

“Scar.” He greets flatly. “What do you want?” 

Disregarding his ire, Scar saunters up to him. “Oh, well, nothing too bad, G, nothing at all! I wouldn’t dream of making you work or anything-- um…” He stops suddenly. He opens his mouth. He closes it, looking him up and down. If a visual question mark could appear over a person’s head, it absolutely would in this moment. “You’re not dressed up in your-- your little… office uniform! Your little suit! Where’s your clip-on tie, Grian?”

Ugh. “Office Grian is out of the building today.”

That does not do anything to quell Scar’s confusion. His big ol’ eyes look wet and pathetic as he stares at him. “B-B-B-B-But… how am I supposed to get help with my form if office Grian isn’t here?”

“You’re just gonna have to deal with good ol’ regular Grian today.” 

He loves Scar beyond words-- really, it drains him how much he loves this man-- but today is not the day for him. He can feel his energy departing out of his body already. He was going to try and stick it out for a while today. It looks like plans are changing swiftly.

“Is regular Grian as know-- legible. Knoll… knowledge…” He hums, goes down a different path. “Do you know how to do the form? Because I need some serious help, G.” 

He drags a hand down his face. It’s sweaty. “Office Grian doesn’t even know how to do the form, Scar.” 

“What?!” This is genuine surprise from him. “So you’re tellin’ me that this form is all… all…”

“Bullshit?” He finishes the sentence for him. “Yeah. Pretty much.” His head is starting to hurt. “Ugh. Look, Scar, I’m not feeling good today, so maybe we can leave this for another day?”

The humour drops from Scar’s face. It leaves genuine concern. “Yeah-- I mean, no worries. Of course. Of course! Do you… uh, do you need-- need anything? Want to… talk about it?” 

It’s tentative. An olive branch. Scar is a very kind guy. A genuinely nice person. He thinks he’s perhaps caught him off guard with how open he’s being right now. It leaves him quiet and thoughtful. 

When the smile is off of Scar’s face one can really appreciate the way he looks. It’s not like his smile isn’t beautiful-- because it is, it’s moreso that this stillness is rare for him, moments of calm few and far between his cheesy one-liners and fake grins, and so when one is awarded this sight it feels disarming. 

He often forgets how beautiful Scar is. He thinks about how handsome he is on the daily, a fact which he divulges to nobody but himself, achingly aware of it everytime he sees him. Yet he misses how pretty he is. It makes his heart hurt.  

“Um.” He says as he snaps himself out of his… state. With nothing else to say, he just goes, “okay?” Y’know, like someone who wasn’t just staring deep into their friend’s eyes and remarking on how gorgeous they are. Like a smart and normal person. He grins to try and make it look extra convincing.

Scar’s face immediately screws up into worry. It was not convincing. 

“Ohhhh, god. Who are you and what have you done with Grian? I-I-I-I’m scared! You actually want to talk about it? What kind of sorcery is this?”

The bit of humour grounds him. He snorts. “Scar, don’t make me regret my choice.”

That shocks him into movement. His friend’s head whips around, eyes looking for something. He runs around the office wildly, tripping over his untied shoelaces, ignoring his squawk of “tie your shoes Scar!”, and comes back with two chairs. He sets them down in front of the desk, patting the other one. When Grian doesn’t move he pats it again, more insistent. Finally he acquiesces, leaving the comfort of the desk and sitting across from Scar. 

“So!” His voice is far too cheery. His smile is straining at the edges. He’s out of his element right now, Grian realizes. And it’s because he always has to fight to get these talks out of Grian. It’s like pulling tooth and nail sometimes. And here he is, just ready to… to bare it all. 

Oh, god. He’s going to talk to him. About his problems. And his body. 

He suddenly feels sick.

“I think I may throw up.” 

Scar’s smile falls. “What?” 

He splays his upper body across the desk. His stomach is doing flips. “This. This is going to kill me, Scar. Do you understand?” 

“N-No?” 

“I am going to die a painful death, Scar, and it’s all because you made me talk about my… my feelings!” He makes a throwing up sound. 

“Now you-- you just wait a second, mister!” Scar leans forward so that he can poke him in the shoulder. “I didn’t make you do anything-- in fact you agreed to it! So let me hear it, Gri, or I-I swear I’m gonna… I’m gonna! I’m gonna send those stupid snails back over to you and make them eat your mending book right in front of your eyes!”

He gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

An mhm. A nod. “Ohhh, I would. Don’t you test me now!” 

He’s seen enough fish in the short span they’ve been in this season to know that, in his shock, his mouth is opening and closing like one. It takes all his resolve to not run out of the building and leave this stupid place behind. Sure, Scar may try and follow him, but he’s fast-- surely he can outrun him! It… it wouldn’t be too hard! He can do it!

The energy leaves him in one fell swoop as the silence drags on and Scar only seems to get more worried about him. Finally, he looks away.

“I feel alone…” he bites out. It’s like chewing glass. 

“Oh?” Scar is interested. That’s him telling him to continue. 

The proverbial glass on his tongue and teeth cut up his mouth and bleed the truth out of him. “I have… a particular problem that nobody else on the server can relate to.”

“Is it an avian thing?” He scratches his head. “Y’know, I know that Pearl isn’t exactly an avian herself, but she may be able to help you out. Or-- hey! Jimmy is an avian! We can message him?” 

He’s earnest. So earnest. He grits his teeth. “It’s not. An avian thing.” 

That makes Scar stop. “Is it… is it a them thing?”

Them. Neither of them need to say their names to know. 

“God-- no. No. Thank goodness.” In his stress, he begins to pull at his hair, his wings ruffling. “I just. God. Scar, I can’t believe you don’t know. We’ve spent…” lives together. Lived and died together. Stuck by each other’s sides when no one else would. Hurt each other but mostly just loved each other. “We’ve spent time together.” 

“We sure have! I-- I, uh… I don’t know what you’re talking about, though.” 

“Have you ever looked at me when I’m shirtless?” He just decides to bite the bullet. 

Scar’s jaw drops. His face begins to turn a shade of red he didn’t think was possible. He looks away, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “No, no-- no! No way. Noooo way. Never, G-- never! I would. Never.” 

“Why are you so--? Look, nevermind! Scar, I-I’m different from everyone else and it’s not because of them and it’s not because I’m an avian.”

“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” He’s still not looking at him. Did that really embarrass him so much? That… that means many things that he just does not have the brain to dissect right now. 

“I’m not cis.” Is all he can really say. 

It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop. 

“You’re…” Scar’s finger wobbles as he points at him. His jaw is back to being on the fucking floor. 

For a second, Grian thinks he’s just fucked up the entire thing they have going on. Scar is going to leave him. He’s going to hate him and he’s going to tell everyone and it’s going to ruin his life. Poppies and lilacs will mean nothing to them anymore. 

But then Scar starts to smile. He wiggles his fingers, bouncing in his seat. “Ooooh, Grian! Grian, I had no idea! What the heck?” His laugh is a little intense considering the information just given. Dread leaks out of his body and is replaced by confusion. Scar is still laughing. “What the heck?! You mean to tell me we could have been bondin’ even more? How-- how the heck did I not notice that?”

“What…?” His voice cracks. 

Firmly, Scar points at him. “Hold on, how the heck did you not notice this?!” He points to his own chest.

“Scar, what on Earth are you talking about?” 

With little care for much of… anything, really, Scar rips his own shirt open, the buttons flying off and skittering across the floor. He points aggressively at two thick scars underneath his pecs. They pucker at the end, pulling skin taut against his ribs. He’d recognize something like that anywhere. 

It’s Grian’s turn for his jaw to drop. “W-What? You… wait-- what? You… I-- Scar, put your shirt back on!” 

“The shirt is gone, Grian,” he says with faux seriousness. “You’re just gonna have to deal with this right now.”

He’s trying very hard not to stare at Scar’s chest. He is fighting a losing battle. 

“Nevermind that, though-- how the heck did you not notice these scars? They’re gigantic, Grian! Biggest ones I’ve got on my-- my whole… whole area!” He gestures vaguely to his body.

“Your torso?” He sighs. “I don’t know, Scar, I guess I don’t make it a habit to look at your pecs?”

That answer seems to displease him greatly. “Well, I can’t see why not, my pecs are amayzin’.” 

You know what… “Sure, Scar. Sure they are.” 

He beams at him. “You’re welcome to stare at them anytime, Grian!”

His ears are getting warm. Stupid Scar. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone on here.”

To Scar this seems like a joke. He laughs. When Grian doesn’t laugh too, he stops. Stares at him. Squints at him. “You-- you weren’t ever alone, Grian.”

“I didn’t know that you were also trans!” He argues, feeling his back start to rise. 

“No-- no, I mean… jeez, Grian, I don’t think I know a single cis person on this server. In fact, MIster, I thought you were the only one we had-- until now, of course!” 

“What.” 

“Actually I think Skizzy Wizzy is cis! Or-- or maybe he’s not…” He furrows his brows. “Ah, whatever, point is: you’re surrounded by trans people whether you like it or not, mister!”

“Why would I dislike it?” It still doesn’t feel real to him. If he weren’t sitting down he would have to sit down again. As it stands (or sits, he supposes) he just sinks lower into his chair. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been-- I’ve been stewing for years! Wait-- Mumbo?!”

“Yep!” He pops the ‘p’, grinning wildly. It makes Grian start to laugh. That makes Scar start to laugh. In a very sweet moment that turns very sobering very quickly, Scar takes his hand, squeezes it as if he’s squeezing one of those grip testing machines-- ow! “Now you don’t have to hide it, G. Isn’t that amayzin’?” 

The contact makes his head start to spin. “You’re crushing my hand, Scar.”

“Whoops!” He lets go, blushing. “Sorry, sometimes I don’t even know my own strength!” 

“Yeah, yeah… anyways, what was that about you definitely not staring at my chest earlier?”

Scar runs out of the building so fast you would swear he had somewhere to be. 

Which is good enough for Grian, because that means he doesn’t have to put an ounce of work in today! He puts down his ‘Gone Fishin’ sign, repairs the hole left by Scar, and then leaves the building. He feels lighter than he’s ever felt before.

So it turns out he was wrong. He’s never been so glad to be so wrong. 

(read it on ao3 here! <3)

[everybodyshusband]

soft ghoul pyjama thoughts :))

rain is a "the oldest clothes in my cupboard and the ones that don't fit are now my pyjamas" kind of ghoul :) they wear old tshirts that are falling apart and almost see-through from wear, usually accompanied with old tracksuit pants in winter and some kind of cotton short in summer (all the shorts probably used to belong to mist they're that old and skimpy)

aether's easy. give him a pair of flannel patterned pyjama pants, don't make him wear a shirt and he's happy :))

there are two options for dewdrop. one is that he wears flannel pyjama pants like aeth and some old tshirt like rain (although his aren't quite in the same state of disrepair as the water ghoul's sleep clothes) or flannelette pyjamas with the button up shirts that match his bottoms and yeah he's just a SILLY GUY (the matching sets are cumulus' favourites on dew because she'll braid his hair and then proceed to make fun of him all night for looking silly :3)

speaking of cumulus, she has an impressive collection of all different styles of nighties that she sleeps in because she hates the feeling of shorts or pants on her legs at night

cirrus has lots of bralette/sleep short sets that always manage to match lus' nightgowns but in opposite colours or patterns. if lus' pyjamas are pastel coloured then you'll bet that so are cirrus' or if cirrus has green polka dots on her shorts then lus will have red ones on her pjs

aeon tends to mirror the pyjamas of whoever he's going to bed with which means he doesn't really have any pjs that are his because he usually just borrows a pair from his bedmate

aurora's still not really used to life up top so more often than not she'll get back to her room so exhausted that she'll fall asleep in whatever she's been wearing that day. on the occasion that she's able to fall asleep in something that's not jeans or her uniform, it's usually clothes that the others have left in her room; one of rain's shirts and a pair of dewdrop's flannelette pants or aether's big ol' hoodie and cirrus' silk shorts

swiss is similar to aether in that he loves a good pair of flannel pants and nothing else but he's much more inclined to wear a hoodie or a long sleeve to bed as well as the pants

mountain is a tricky one on account of how they're feeling that day. sometimes they'll wear a pair of pants and a random shirt and call it a night, other times they'll shyly ask cumulus to borrow a nightgown and get sunshine's help to braid their hair so they can wake up with pretty waves in the morning, and on occasion they'll pull an aurora and just face plant into the bed, too tired to even think about getting changed into pjs

sunshine either sleeps naked or covered head to toe in a onesie complete with a hood and footsies there is no in between

[puphee]

big dicked emo bf gyu >>>>>>>

YES ABSOLUTELY.

Hold on I have some pics to back this up.

I'm convinced monster cock gyu. Also something about emo era + this idea really gets me fr fr

Imagine him railing you from behind and just saying all this dirty stuff to you meanwhile, and you're barely coherent enough to listen fully to all of what he's saying because you're still just getting over how big he is and how good it feels when he stretches you out and fills you up.

His long and shaggy hair sticking to his face from sweat, his chest heaving up and down as you stroke him, having to use two hands from how big he is.

I feel like emo gyu might even have his nipples pierced, and if you're on top of him, you can play with them and he'll be twitching and likely filling you so full of himself and his cum that it leaks out because there's barely enough room to fit both his huge load and his huge cock inside you at the same time.

He'd be really cocky about it, too. Like, he knows he's big, and he's see you ogling his outlined bulge when he's wearing that one pair of ripped skinny jeans of his.

[mirai-e-jump]

Beautiful Catalog Vol.3 ft. Kamen Rider Ryuki Cast Members Takashi Hagino x Ryohei Interviews & Photoshoot (translations below)

Publication: September 30, 2003

Takashi Hagino (Takeshi Asakura/Kamen Rider Ouja)

-I no longer make impulse purchases, like when it comes to snake print clothing (laughs)-

With a bright smile on his face, Hagino-san entered the studio. His pure white, rough style was perfectly balanced with the grass zori (sandals) on his feet, which was a unique choice! At first glance, it looks loose, with only the innerwear fitting to his body, but, it gives off a masculine feel. Against the natural materials, his silver accessories stand out.

Hagino: Fashion…..I'm not too picky about it~

He mutters to himself. His style is modest, contrary to his seemingly carefully coordinated choices.

"First off is the staff's favorite, here he is wearing a fluffy knit sweater."

Hagino: Uwah, who's that, me? My hair's all curly (laughs).

"We were most interested about this one. The growing reactions from those around you saying, "Cute~!," caused you to look nervous, which in turn made you look even cuter."

Hagino: During the time of that shoot, I was asked, "Please hold this plushie." Do I have to? It seems that stuff like that is becoming pretty common these days (laughs).

"What's your favorite fashion to wear?"

Hagino: Last year, all I wore was black. Black tanktops and such. Right now, I really want to wear whites. It's nice isn't it~? White! The other day, I saw Beckham wearing white on the cover of some magazine. He was also wearing pants like the ones I wore today. I thought, "Let's do this! I have the same fashion sense as Beckham" (laughs). From now on, I want you to call me Beckham (laughs).

"B-Beckham?? You want us to…..? Next, a jacket with fur that gives off an affectionate big brother feel. It's a very refreshing look!"

Hagino: I feel like I've never worn something like this either. It has a natural feel, like when you go out to walk your dog. By the way, the other day, for two days straight, I went to this pet store and was obsessed with this half chihuahua and papillon breed. When I looked at them, they hid in embarrassment. It was so cute! I was really hesitating whether to buy them or not, but the price for such a small and cute dog was 380,000 yen ($2,500)! The store is open until late in the morning, so I spend alot of time there. The shiba inu's and all the other dogs are just so cute to look at.

"Do you ever make impulse purchases?"

Hagino: Not anymore. Due to the "advice" of some store employees, I no longer buy snake print clothing (laughs). At the time, clothing with snake patterns were hard to come by, so when they saw me looking they said, "That'll look good on you~." They said, "We'll lower the price (alot)~." I thought, "Alright then~," and bought it. If you go shopping with friends, you'll have someone to stop you, but if you don't and go alone, you'll end up getting stuff that you can't afford. It's dangerous (laughs). I had to learn that recently.

"I'm not very particular when it comes to brands, but, the ones I like are Jil Sander and Dolce & Gabbana."

Hagino: I can't afford to buy all that because it's expensive, but, I do think it's really cool. Lately, I've been thinking that it would be nice to dress in a more formal way for such occasions. Wouldn't you want to try it? A dinner party on the roof of a building with a swimming pool. I'd even prepare business cards with a alot of lies on them (laughs).

"With fashion, Hagino-san says, "It's fun, it's like playing a game." What do you wear when you go to bed or to just relax?"

Hagino: It's either denim shorts or cargo shorts. I'll wear a T-shirt or tank top on top, which I'll take off when it's hot. The rest of the time I wear tracksuits (laughs). When I go to work, I'll wear either a T-shirt and jeans or tracksuit. I like to be able to change into my costume quickly and then take it easy.

"Finally, this last outfit is a multi striped suit with a strong sense of personality. With his hair up, he's transformed into abit of a bad boy. The manager said he looks like, "A respected elder brother." Hikawa Kiyoshi-kun from our office wore a similar suit for his "Zundoko Bushi" MV, but the vibe is totally different."

Hagino: It's so cool, the look reminds me of Lenny Kravitz! He's fashionable and looks good in fur, T-shirts, and all kinds of strange stuff. Compared to when I was first wearing the knit sweater, I feel like I've relaxed abit. It feels like I'm back (laughs).

"By the way, I hear you're very particular with your eyebrows."

Hagino: If I forget to draw my eyebrows before going out, I feel very uncomfortable (laughs). When I draw it myself, it's like a straight line. I'm not improving at all. I don't check my whole appearance in the mirror before going out, but I always pay attention to my eyebrows (laughs).

-I'll be a prince! But before that, I'd like to play a dirty role-

"He started doing karate about 3 years ago because he was attracted to the civility of the sport after playing many detective roles in the past. He takes time out of his busy schedule to attend karate, which he says helps him maintain his health and improve his voice for stage plays."

Hagino: I'm currently a yellow belt (6 kyu). I hope to be green this year, and brown within the next two years. Even before shooting for the photobook, I ran a marathon, went to karate, and did push ups when I'd wake up in the morning……that all I keep doing (laughs). Surprisingly, I don't mind doing these things.

His photobook, "Actor, Takashi Hagino," is filled with emotional and sensitive words that resonate with the heart.

"You say so many wonderful words."

Hagino: I wondered, "What can I do with this photobook?" I thought maybe I could include some words or afew sentences. But, it felt like, "As soon as you add color to a painting, it's ruined." I thought it'd be more interesting to write down what I was currently thinking, like a time capsule, so that later on I can say, "This is who I was!" I personally really like the poem "Confirmation."

"What's your favorite outfit in the photobook?"

Hagino: I liked the denim jacket~. That guy near the swingset, he may have been more offended by the unlikely setting of swings, rather than the fashion I was wearing (laughs).

"How was the stage play, "Yokosuka Dobuita Story," in which you played the leading role?"

Hagino: I really enjoy the stage experience. I also like the live feel of it. Since the foundation of a play is the stage…..I fully felt the determination of everyone around me, and while it was fun, I also fully enjoyed the live conflict that only a stage play can bring. I thought that as the rehearsals continued, I could feel so much of the warmth, cheerfulness, and sadness coming out of them.

"What do you think of Joji, the role you played?"

Hagino: In the beginning, he wasn't a nice guy…..but, he was a good guy. I think I was able to show him having fun and being sincere, so I'd like to add more variety if I ever play a role like that again.

"What scene was most memorable?"

Hagino: In the proposal scene with Kaori, played by Junko Mihara-san, she changed the way she spoke each time we performed it, and did so with different tricks, such as sulking or teasing. Gradually, our rhythm and breathing become the same, and my lines came out without being conscious of it. The scenes with Mihara-san were alot of fun to do.

"It's been announced that you'll play the role of the prince in the Cinderella musical. A bad prince…what's that about?"

Hagino: Quiet! (laughs). I don't think that's it, I think it's just a regular prince, but the script hasn't come in yet, so I don't know all the details. I am looking forward to the dancing in the musical. Although, I'm worried about singing. You know how the dialogue suddenly flows into a ballad like song with, "Why~"? I become nervous the moment, "Why~," comes up (laughs). But. I'll keep practicing and show you the fairy tale prince in all his glory.

"Will the prince's costume be……white tights?"

Hagino: My manager told me that if I wore white tights, right here (his crotch), would look really cool (laughs). No, rather, it's a wonderful fairy tale like costume. The show will be held in more than 20 locations across the country, so please look forward to it!

"What kind of roles do you want to play in the future?"

Hagino: Since I've already decided to play a prince, I'd like to play a serious and grim role before that. Something like a dirty role.

In his photobook, Hagino-san affirms that he loves humans, as he wrote, "Are you a human being? If you're a human, then you must be a wonderful one." This love for people is what makes his acting so refined, as he focuses on the essence of humans. We're really looking forward to seeing him as a fairy tale prince and in serious roles.

Ryohei (Shuichi Kitaoka/Kamen Rider Zolda)

-Is this too subtle? When it comes to this coordination, I think I should do my best.-

In a quiet studio located in a certain part of Tokyo, the sound of a camera shutter clicking resonates. The sounds are followed by rhythmical changes in facial expressions, poses, and overall atmosphere, creating the rich and colorful, "Ryohei World," almost like a perfectly beautiful picture were being painted.

Within the light, he strikes perfectly balanced poses that'll take your breath away, while occasionally trying to make us laugh by crossing his eyes and saying, "This is what real coordination looks like!"

While casually flapping his white coat, he says:

Ryohei: About 2-3 years ago, I used to wear clothes like these all the time during the Fall and Winter, but now, I don't wear them anymore. It's exhausting to wear them all day, don't you think? These days, I think it's better to dress comfortably. I wonder, have my shoulders become more relaxed as I've gotten older? Well, it's nice doing something like this once in awhile! It makes me feel motivated to strike the perfect poses.

"You picked out that coat."

Ryohei: The length is perfect! This half coat actually is a half coat. For some reason, usually, a half coat is a short coat, and a long coat is a half coat (laughs).

"Were there any problems with the size?"

Ryohei: No matter how big the clothes are, when I wear them, I always think, "These are way too small!" I do adore more loose fitting clothes. I can't pull off the look though (laughs).

"While not being particular about brands, Ryohei-san says, "I don't think something being expensive makes it better." He enjoys buying secondhand clothes, with sneakers making up half of his collection. He also claims to have about 50 pairs of unopened shoes. Today, he's wearing stylish leather sneakers."

Ryohei: I love sneakers. I sometimes think, "Even if they last a lifetime, I wonder, do I have enough?" I'll also put them in their box and stack them, it's really cool to look at (laughs). I don't really do it anymore, but there was a time when I used to pick out clothes that matched my shoes.

"Do you check your whole appearance in the mirror before going out?"

Ryohei: That's essential. Sometimes I'll dress in a way that makes me think, "Is this too subtle?," Although, I'm usually pretty ok with it. Fashion is like an extension of my hobby, so I think I should be doing my best at it. During the times I go on a date with a girlfriend, I think I should only make decisions when I really have too.

"Do you make snap decisions for a date??"

Ryohei: It depends on how long we've been together, but in the early stages of a relationship, a man wants to make a big impression (laughs). Well, if you've been together for 3-4 years, I think, "Alright, who cares~."

"That's terrible?!" (said by the entire female staff)

Ryohei: I don't think you have to be so cool in front of your partner all the time……I think it's okay to just look natural. So, it's not terrible, it's really not (laughs).

"What if after 3-4 years, she's wearing something she doesn't really care for?"

Ryohei: Well, that's exactly who I am. That's why I think we'd be compatible (laughs). You do your best at first, and once you're familiar with them, it doesn't matter what you look like.

"Do you care about your hairstyle?"

Ryohei: For me, I'm not particular with hair, so everyday my hairstyle is slightly different. When I go for a straight perm, my hair loses all its volume and flattens, regardless of how thick my hair is. A tip I can give, is to only use your hair dryer on areas that are particularly annoying and have strong frizz. It's easier to set up the look that way.

"Your eyebrows have a nice shape to them."

Ryohei: I don't do anything with my eyebrows. I don't want them being thin. It makes me lose the "impact" of my face and causes my appearance to change (laughs).

During the chair sitting shoot, the chair was too low compared to Ryohei's height, so he brought out a stepladder by himself, making it a very interesting shoot. Wearing a knit hat, Ryohei's beautiful face looked even more attractive, and he looked like a European college boy with an unfamiliar expression on his face.

"What is key to dressing well?"

Ryohei: I don't have any particular stances…..but, I don't want to be outdone by clothes. I want to make an effort to wear them, and even if I think they don't look good on me, I'll try and find a way to make them look good.

"You seem to be very good at posing."

Ryohei: During my time staying at motels, I studied my poses by looking in the mirror, so I wouldn't have to do them on set and feel embarrassed. It's like it's already been ingrained in my head. If I don't do them properly, the photographer won't be able to take any photos.

"While at Hagino-san's house, the two of them once practiced posing together while looking in the mirror. During the shoot, Hagino-san laughed and said, "Posing by Ryohei!," and he did the same pose Ryohei did, showing that they seem to get along really well. What advice do you have for for making your appearance look more beautiful?"

Ryohei: Pose standing slightly diagonal…doing so will make you look thinner. Always think of ways to make your appearance more slim (laughs).

"When did you first discover your style?"

Ryohei:…..I still haven't found it (laughs).

"Normally, wouldn't you discover fashion in the same way a girl would?"

Ryohei: Hmmm……It think it's alittle different from that (laughs). Rather than about clothes, I was thinking more about how to make people laugh and how to entertain them. When it comes to the clothes I'm wearing now, I don't think I can say whether they're good or bad. I might say later, "Why did I think this was cool to wear?" Fashion is an indifferent thing for me, but it's like a time capsule that reflects that moment in time……It's something that reminds me of who I was at one point.

-The action was difficult. Since my reach is different, it's difficult to get the timing right.-

"How was it working with veteran actors (Natori Yuko, etc) on "The Woman Prosecutor of Kyoto"?"

Ryohei: There was alot to learn just by listening and watching. The way they said their lines, it was so natural, me on the other hand, I'm still trying to perform well. In my head, I can see it all very well. But, it's hard to actually do it. On set, we called her "Professor Natori," since we had alot to learn from her.

"You made your first attempt as a voice actor in "Mobile Suit Gundam SEED," correct?"

Ryohei: Actors can make facial expressions while speaking, right? It's easy to tell when someone's "angry" because they speaks in an angry tone and has an angry expression on their face. I looked at the voice actors and thought that they're skilled at manipulating their voices. They do whatever they want. The way they react, the way they breath…..as an actor, I've learned alot from them.

"I heard that the shooting for the upcoming film, "Bird's Eye," in which you play the lead role, was difficult due to wire acting."

Ryohei: It was quite difficult. But, it was something of a challenge for myself.

"Please tell us some highlights of the film."

Ryohei: It's an action film. But, I only had 3 days to practice. I couldn't even meet the person I was going to be working with until the day of filming. Being so tall, I had a different reach from my partner, so it was very difficult to find the correct timing. When you punch, you take a step forward, right? But when I step forward, I get too close, so I end up performing a limp punch (laughs). I'm sure there must have been a better way to do it, but unfortunately, I didn't have time to do any research.

"The way you beat them up was impressive though."

Ryohei: I was mostly on the receiving end (laughs). RIKIYA-kun (Kawaguchi Rikiya), who played Tsuyoshi, used to box, so as expected, his punches were excellent.

After the photo shoot, Ryohei-san went to the waiting room. Among the outfits there, he found a pair of yellow pants with purple square patterns on it, and his eyes started to sparkle.

Ryohei: This, it's amazing! I want to wear it right now! Can I try this on?

Just as Ryohei enjoys fashion with a carefree attitude, and takes on challenges with an open mind, while also exploring new areas as an actor one after another, absorbing them naturally and without hesitation. His sincere attitude to cherish every moment and his mischievous spirit of challenge expands "Ryohei's World" endlessly, by giving off a refreshing charm. We won't take our eyes off his future challenges.

[ryo-apologist]

Shiggy's Slutty Lil' Waist

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass, talk about crop tops on men and gray sweatpants. Don't like? Bully me it'll be foreplay <3 /j

AN: I saw a picture of Johnny Depp in a crop top. We all know the one. And yk what? Shiggy has the same slutty lil waist. And so far all three of my posts have been about Shiggy. Will that change? Idk ask me next week. It's my comfort character and I can seek toxic comfort WHEN I WANT-

~Darling XOXO

☾ Shigaraki Tomura has the sluttiest fucking waist.

☾ That's it. That's the post.

☾ No, I'm kidding. I'll elaborate for thirsty whores like me. And Barbie. Shout out to them.

☾ Shigaraki obviously has the fits going for him. Name one outfit he wore that didn't slap. Exactly. You can't. So contrary to what people think, I think Shigaraki takes a bit (Not a lot, do not get me wrong) of care in how he looks. He has an image to maintain after all. How can he be expected to be the big, bad leader of the LOV if he doesn't look like it.

☾ That being said, I think at some point it just comes naturally to him to dress in ways that suit his body.

☾ And we all know he has the body to do so. After he left that big ol' test tube? Did y'all SEE his arch? Fuck man I couldn't arch better if I TRIED. Like,-

☾ Okay before this post turns into a tiktok comment section on the thirstiest of Gojo Edits, let me continue.

☾ My point here, is he probably doesn't dress like we see in the anime all the time. That would get tiring. Drain his mana level if you would. And he needs time to recharge.

☾ So, In this essay post, I'm here to argue that Shigaraki Tomura wears crop tops that barely brush past his nipples to show off his slutty little waist.

☾ You know, the shirts that had a hole in the front? Instead of sewing them like a reasonable man, he rips them from that hole all the way around. Which means his crop tops vary in length. Every single one of them.

☾ And that leaves perfect access for you to wrap your hands around his waist and just hold him like that. He hates it. No, he doesn't.

☾ In all truth, Shigaraki loves the feelings of your hands on his midsection because it's such an intimate place to him. He loves feeling you touch him with no fear, even though he knows the second he's done with you, he's taking those hands and dusting you.

☾ Y'all didn't think I was about to turn my greatest number one villain into a *gasp* nice person, did you? /lh

☾ Sorry, not here. Shigaraki does not do love. Only with me, dw guys I'll treat him right :). He's a man with needs that get in the way of his bigger plans. Sorry, not sorry.

☾ Anyway, trail your hands up his ribs and play with his nipples. Pinch them and roll them between your thumb and forefinger. It buys you another day. Additionally, you get to play with his fat tits.

☾ He has one shirt that he outgrew after his transformation that absolutely hugs his double dee, mommy milking, calcium cannon, honga-bazongas, dippin dots, whatyoudoingouthere withallthattiddies, boinga boinga, bouncing bangers.

☾ This one magically turned into a crop top. It was crazy. Shoutout to whoever put it in the wash to shrink it. They a real one.

☾ It was me.

☾ And it's like that one meme of the guy looking at something with his pecs right there and the lady is just O-O at them. Which...Yeah me too.

☾ Anyway, he wears it all the time because he's convinced it still fits.

☾ Play with his...pecs... through the shirt. He has the most sensitive nipples and it just brushes against them just right and...He likes it is all I'm gonna say.

☾ Now, I know what we're all thinking, 'Darling, what about the pants?' And Darling's got you, baby cakes.

☾ I only tease in the bedroom :)

☾ Grey sweatpants season is EVERY season for this man. He's got like three pairs he cycles through. Kurogiri HATES them. He tries to throw them out and replace them with sensible jeans or slacks.

☾ Never works. He's like a raccoon with stocks of them EVERYWHERE.

☾ Anyway, so he's got his gray sweats and his slutty little crop tops. Let me paint this picture for Y'all.

☾ Shigaraki Tomura wearing a tight white t-shirt that's shrunk into a crop top, clinging to his chest as he stretches his arms above his head, biceps straining against the fabric. His toned abdomen is constricting with his every breath of his, on full display along with the angles of his slutty lil' waist. Your eyes follow down to his belly button and following the trail of white hairs that lead to his v-line, the waistband of his pants just barely clinging to his hips but hugging the delicious outline of his cock, which, while even flaccid, is enough to make anyone drool.

☾ Y'all seeing the vision now? Because I do.

☾ I'm seeing the vision. I'm salivating over the vision. I'm ready to turn into a Gojo fan girl at this point. Like I'm drooling. No lube. No protection. No-

☾ And if you start playing with his tits like this? In this outfit?

☾ He's trying to swat you away, you're getting in the way of his game, but your hands are feeling too good. He's only half paying attention to the pixels anyway, but it's about the principle of letting you get your way.

☾ But you can see you're winning with the way his cock twitches in his pants, throbbing in plain sight.

☾ Your lips trace along his neck and suddenly the pause screen pops up. There's a dark patch already soaking through his pants and they're lose enough your fingers can dip right past the band and trace along his shaft.

☾ He's already groaning, debating if this is worth his time. Worth the distraction.

☾ When your pretty little fingers wrap around his cock and give it a firm tug, he decides it is.

☾ Do not think he rolls over and let's you do as you please however.

☾ No, no, no. He's pulling you over the couch and pinning you as he gets rid of the bigger distractions stopping from doing exactly what he wants.

☾ If he leaves you a dripping, drooling mess on the couch, that's your own fault really.

☾ But who really cares at that point, because in the end, you won anyway <3

☾ But FUCK does Shiggy have a slutty lil' waist.

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Welcome to more Headcanons where I discuss clothing. Because it is fun for me. Today we will talk about Jade Leech and how in my mind he dresses like a serial killer; specifically Patrick Bateman. Just kidding. I will talk about that sort of fashion later. When I make these posts I plan to update them with another version of the character dressing in another way. But, let’s keep it short.

Subtle Punk/Grunge

Firstly, Jade has been confirmed in many ways to be more muscle than Floyd. So I like to personally picture him in tight fitting tops. His own mental mind game of showing you; “If I wanted to hurt you I would.” But of course image is everything.

I am desperately clinging to the Punk Jade we could have had in canon with piercings and body modifications but also… Going to a prestigious academy… Jade cares a lot about how he is seen by others on campus. The butler trope fits him very well, but what about off campus? I think he does wear subtle punk fashion when he’s out alone on the island. He loves the belts and black boots and how to layer shirts. All while asking some frightened looking cashier about what kind of mushroom spores they sell.

The reasons for the heavier fashion; A) I personally like it. And it’s okay to disagree with me. B) Jade is a merman, and in my mind their ability to regulate temperature isn’t the same as someone on land. So I would like to think that Jade has issues with cold weather. Please see his club wear card.

I get that camping can be something you need to layer for, but a coat, and a sweatshirt, and a turtleneck, and a wool(?) hat with gloves? He either has horrible circulation or mermen just have issues with cold weather. I think it’s the ladder. Jade also looks good in boots. Being in the Mountain Lovers Club, and even during the Camp event he looks good in boots. Combat boots and kicker boots are also something you usually will see with punk and more ‘aggressive’ forms of alternative fashion. He’s so used to wearing boots when he goes hiking that it feels more natural to wear something like that even on weekends when he’s out and about. Also, the heaviness is like extra weight so he can strengthen his legs. At least that’s what I think. He doesn’t seem like a jeans man but there’s also a lot of things Jade hides about himself. Now for a quick outfit!

Thrifted x DIY

I think he usually will wear things like this as it gets darker and he hangs out at underground music clubs where it’s mostly rock and alternative music playing. Now, Jade comes from money. Which can make him seem like a ‘poser’ because he is a nepo baby. But Jade also loves doing something and getting results. Like taking care of terrariums and discovering things in the mountains. I don’t think when he dresses like this he focuses on the best brand clothing wise. I think he wants to not stand out so I think he would go for darker colors while still having personality with his outfit. So I also gave him those nasty ass crust-punk jeans because I think he would have a pair he made himself and they probably smell like Fritos. He washes them… Sometimes.

Accessories… I can imagine Jade wearing small ones or thin leather bracelets with beads. But also at a music club, he probably would take time to make kandi to trade with some local emos. Rings would look nice on him. Especially big metal ones with chunky charms so if he gets into a fight, it’s like pseudo brass knuckles. He keeps it classy and clean while still upkeeping how he looks and is perceived. He wants to go all out. Shaved sides of his head and all. But he also fears… Something. I think he has to be seen a certain way for family reasons but also because of how he is seen at school. I think Jade… Lacks confidence to be himself. Even if he says he’s happy being a little weird and having such a pristine self image… Is he really? … It’s all my Headcanons and you don’t have to agree with me. But this is what I think.

[freezingmcxn]

hey.. how you doing.. can you maybe make a lil thingy about toby like you did with the eyeless jack thing I'm just really focused on Toby right know idk why but like write it however you want I just want to see your writing on how you rhing he looks and acts take your time you dont even have to do it I love you I love you i love you I love you I love you I love you I lovw you

TOBY ROGERS APPEARANCE (AU)

AHH YES I CAN my motivation is so bad but these always make me really happy and are easy to write so OFC ILY!!

Toby’s hair is a pale, sun-bleached brown, almost blonde, falling to his neck and curling around his ears.

Naturally curly, his hair has become dry and unkempt from bathing in river water and using cheap soap. His curls puff out, lacking any defined shape.

Occasionally, in a fit of frustration, he shaves it all off or trims it, often in a dingy ass gas station bathroom, depending on how much he despises it at the time.

Standing around 5’7” (5’8” in boots), Toby’s constant slouching makes him look as if he might topple over at any moment.

His most noticeable feature is the gash on his mouth, though it’s not as large as one might think.

The wound is just big enough to expose his upper teeth, which are rotted and decayed. Despite its size, the injury reeks of infection, with pus occasionally oozing from the diseased tissue.

Toby often picks at it, making the wound larger over time.

Originally, it was a small bite he inflicted on himself, but his constant fiddling turned it into the gaping wound it is now.

He no longer bites at it, disgusted by the taste of his own decaying flesh. He usually covers it with a large plaster—often supplied by Jack or just lets the air hit it, depending on his mood really.

Toby has a small gold hoop earring in his left ear, a relic from a day when he and Lyra decided to pierce it with a needle. He didn’t feel the pain but kept the earring all these years, occasionally fiddling with it as a reminder of her.

His trusty hatchets dangle from a hardware belt around his waist, always clattering when he moves, a sound he makes sure to emphasise because he knows it irritates people.

The hatchets are mismatched, one is large with a dark oak handle, carved with doodles, while the other is smaller, with a plastic handle, but much sharper—often the one he uses for the first hit.

Both handles are wrapped in duct tape, one of his go-to solutions for everything.

Toby’s skin is sallow, marked by long exposure to the sun. Freckles and moles speckle his body.

His hands are scarred and battered, with half of his left pinky finger missing, and his right hand covered in self-inflicted bite marks. His palms are calloused, his nails ragged—some bruised black, others completely gone.

His teeth are a mess—sharp, chipped, and broken, with gaps where some have been knocked out from fights or lost to decay.

Toby doesn’t bother brushing his teeth, as he often forgets or simply doesn’t care. Eating people doesn’t help either, wrecking his teeth further.

He typically wears the same tattered hoodie for as long as he can stand it, only washing it at a laundromat when absolutely necessary (when it’s bloody and stinky).

He also has an old Joy Division t-shirt layered over a white long-sleeve, both full of holes, though Toby doesn’t mind, he wears it on warmer days.

He’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for five years, patching them up whenever needed—he’s surprisingly good at sewing thanks to Lyra.

On his feet are either old Timberland boots, once his father’s, now worn with a hole in the sole, or a beat-up pair of red Converse, duct-taped at the top.

He alternates between them.

Toby owns a fleece jacket, fingerless gloves, and two beanies—one grey and one black.

The black one is torn and faded, but he likes the way it adds to his look.

He carries everything in a worn blue Jansport backpack he once stole from a kid at a bus stop, where he rams all his clothes and supplies.

I think that’s enough 😭😭 I rambled I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say too much because I fear he won’t be as interesting but yeah! Hope you like him :)

[greenscreen-dress]

Hhheeeeheheh I love these skins so much I CANNOT wait to see them in-video... But until then here's my ranking of them, long rambly full thoughts below.

Also here's the tierlist!

Ultimate Slayage: no discussion these 2 are the best. Every single one of Sausage's skins are a smash hit & this one is no exception, it's just so well done. The eye make-up the little tied shirt thing the HUGE extravagant sunflower, contrasted by those big clomping boots... The GENDER of it all aough I love him.

& Pix of course. Pix my guy just STUNNING. Idk about the other skins but this one is very likely made by Pix himself (bc of a thing he tweeted) & that makes it all the more impressive bc it's just?? So good??? The floor-length the off-the-shoulder sleeves leading into long gloves(?), the corset-y bits with golden buttons or lacing up the front, the BRIGHT BLUE bodice bits which (based off the colour) are definitely Ancient Capitollian Dodo feathers or inspired by them at least... It's just a masterpiece. The only comment I might have is maybe make sure you match your foundation right, Pix... But I've also decided he's in a full white lace/mesh bodysuit under the dress so. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Surprised &/or Delighted: honestly this category fits all of them purely bc I don't think anyone expected these ^^. Oli & Jimmy are in here specifically because, while they're not my ultimate brain-frothing faves, these dresses are extremely good adaptations/elevations of their regular skins— Oli's especially looks so natural on him bc it's in exactly the same glitzy faux-medieval style as his bard outfit. The purple is a staple colour with him, fits the royalty theme, & somehow looks both elegant and like a Halloween costume with its bright shade & tinsel-like gold trims. It's silly and fantastic and VERY Oli Orionsound. Cannot wait for him to play the fainting damsel-in-distress at every occasion <3

Jimmy's is plainer but just as faithful to his sheriff skin: off-the-shoulder sleeves appear to be a theme with these skins and they look amazing on everyone, Katherine is so epic if this was her Royal doing. Jimmy looks AMAZING in a long jean(?) skirt & the slit just elevates it even more... I am beginning to notice I have a Thing for long skirts and big boots ^^;. This is going to look stunning with the hat, and just plain adorable at Jimmy's current height.

Fits the brief: ok so these skins are fantastic and I LOVE the colour on both of them, but there's not as much tying them to their Empires... fWhip's goblin skin is so intricate with that embroidered waistcoat & bright primary colours so it's a shame to lose that, though the plain red looks very elegant on him & the shape of the dress stands out from the other skins in a very fun way. It's definitely between the 2 categories and I will likely be swayed by the first bit of fanart I come across for it, but for now: yeah.

Joey's is the opposite case, where it fits the brief and the simplicity of it not only looks good but makes some sense (semi-broke pirate usually wearing tattered sailor's garb). I just wish it had gone a bit further to match Joey's big personality. The slit and shape is lovely (as is the neckliiii— wait where does that neckline end? /pos), but what about some more gold, or prismarine accents? Fishnet gloves, or stockings striped like his shirt? It just feels like it could go much further, & maybe fanart will push it there for me. Also I'm removing points for no dress + epic pirate boots /j

Expected more: oh this skin... Yeah I'm not blown away by it. The colours that are present are very nice but there just aren't enough of them, and the shape... The cutaways at the hip are very nice, but Girl. That is a tank top. & for some reason the skirt refuses to register as one in my brain despite the pretty gradient. With the vibes of Chromia I'm picturing Scott in something shorter and frillier, high-heeled boots, feathered hat and cape— real Barbie and the 3 Musketeers kind of vibe basically. I need to draw that. Definitely more colours though, that's the first step. Bi-coloured bodice, tie-dye skirt with petticoats, a flower crown, something!! Maybe there's custom items involved to accessorise, maybe this is a temporary self-made dress while waiting on a commission, idk but I'm going to need to see some out-of-this world fanart to salvage this skin as it is. :/ Sorry Scott, sashay away.

And finally...

Joel: Joel. Joel Smallish "Massive" Beans that is a recycled MCC skin I am SURE of it. Joel this is so lazy and stupid and perfectly on-brand I love it I hate it this is peak Wish/Aliexpress cosplay. Keep it up you bastard (I still want to see / draw him in proper femme greek garb. But alas).

ANYWAY.

Big long ramble, thankye for reading this whole thing & feel free to make your own lists / yell at me for interpreting these pixels wrong. No matter my minor gripes the fact we have these looks at all and go insane over them is so so SO fun ^^

[kongchipachi95]

Joshua

Pov: you’re reluctant to go out to a bar with your friends to this new trendy club but meeting a handsome stranger makes this the best night of your life.

Warnings: public sex, penetration, fingering.

Joshua

It was a hot summer night and you wanted nothing more than to stay in in your oversized shirt and watch k-dramas all day. But your friends begged you to come to this new bar that had just opened because it was summer and you were a young, single woman and not a recluse.

“I don’t even have anything to wear,” you protested.

“Here, wear this,” your best friend from uni threw a long sleeve but backless green satin dress at you.

“NO WAY, I am not wearing this,” you proclaimed.

“Just wear it. Here, you can wear my chunky black boots, too,” your cousin offered. You reluctantly went to the bathroom to change and put thick eyeliner and a little bit of shimmer eyeshadow to make your eyes pop. You took a step back and looked at the stranger in the mirror. The dress surprisingly hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the right curves that you had to offer. Maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad, afterall. You spritzed some sophisticated perfume your older sister had gotten you when you graduated from college She said you needed a “big girl” perfume now that you were headed out into the world.

The three of you helped each other adjust your outfits and added the finishing touches to blush and hair before piling into a taxi. The three of you looked like you had just stepped out of a 90s cult classic movie, but in a good way. The taxi dropped you off at the bar entrance and you were expecting to get ushered to the back of the line but you were immediately let in by the bouncers who checked your IDs and gave you wristbands. You and your friends looked at each other with surprised but excited glances.

Walking in you were met with the smell of cotton candy vape smoke, expensive cologne and flashing lights from the DJ booth. The place wasn’t fully packed yet, but there were quite a bit of people you couldn’t quite recognize as celebrities or Seoul-cialites in the dark lighting. The lights had a sort of prism cast, some parts of the bar had a red glow casting on the patrons, othe parts had a blue glow. The vibe was like a club for older adults without the drama and underaged kids acting up.

You and your friends decided to walk a lap around the perimeter to find a place to sit down. In one of the more secluded areas you noticed a group of guys laughing loudly and not quite causing a disturbance but it was hard to ignore them. Sitting in the corner, quietly enjoying the show, was a guy not much older than you that caught your attention. He had dark hair slicked back, sunglasses sitting on top of his head which seemed weird since it was late into the night already. He had a crisp button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, jeans that fit just right and dress shoes that look expensive. On his arm was a heavy watch that looked like it cost more than your tuition the entire 4 years of college. He looked expensive, but that didn’t stop you from admiring his beauty. His face had a sort of innocence to it, his perfectly shaped nose and perfectly spaced eyebrows. It was hard not to stare. His lips were not too large, not too small, they were a perfect little pout that turned upwards whenever someone did something crazy.

You snapped out of your trance when your friend grabbed your arm to walk over to the bar to get a drink.

“Hello? Are you still on the same planet?” your friend laughed before guiding you away.

You ordered vodka sodas with lime and decided to post up at a high table with bar stools. Your back was facing the area that the mystery guy was sitting in which deflated you a little. You couldn’t steal any more glances pretending you were looking at your friend when you were really looking past her. Your friends started talking about the jobs they had just started at and the drama they were dealing with in the offices.

“I just can’t stand that she micromanages everything and she’s not even a supervisor, it’s a bunch of bullshit,” your friend complained.

You were about to comment in agreement when you adjusted in your seat and started falling backwards. You reached out to try and grab the table but you were caught by someone from behind. Your arm ended up grabbing a guy’s forearm. Time seemed to stop when you looked down to see what you were holding onto. It was a forearm with veins popping out, strong arms. As your eyes traced who the arm belonged to you realized it was the mystery stranger you had been staring at earlier.

“You alright?” he chuckled, flashing a full smile that made your heart want to stop and beat incessantly at the same time.

“Well aren’t you the hero?” your friend commented.

“I’m- fine,” was all you could say weakly.

“Can I buy you a drink? You know, to calm you down?” he asked confidently. You were even more intrigued at his boldness.

“Uh, sure,” you croaked back.

He helped you get off of your chair and lead you to the bar with his hand on the small of your exposed back. The warmth of his hand sent warmth to other parts of your body that made you blush since you had just seen him for the first time not even a full hour ago.

“Two white wines, please,” he ordered at the bar.

“I’m Jay, by the way,” he introduced himself.

“I’m -” before you could introduce yourself the bartender put your drinks on the counter.

“Beautiful? Gorgeous?” Jay flirted with you. Who was this guy? You asked yourself. You blushed and tucked your hair behind your ears. When you walked back to your table you noticed a couple of his friends had started talking with your friends.

“Would you ladies like to join us at our table?” his tall, dark and handsome friend invited you.

“We’d love to!” Your friends replied in unison.

The guys led you to the table and everyone sat in a circle.

“Let’s make a toast. TO NEW FRIENDS!” exclaimed the friend with shiny, luscious hair just past his ears. You cheered and took sips of your drinks.

As everyone introduced themselves you learned his friends’ names were Mingyu, Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Seokmin and Dino. The conversation was flowing, mostly with Jay observing but you didn’t mind that he rested his arm on the back of your chair, allowing you to get a little closer to him. You could smell his cologne and it was almost driving you crazy having him that close. After a while you excused yourself to go to the restroom. You touched up your makeup with the berry flavored lip gloss you brought in your purse and reached for the door of the restroom. You hadn’t opened the door more than a few inches when you noticed Jay leaning against the wall waiting for you.

“Need some help in there?” he asked, his voice taking a deeper tone than he had used when you first talked to him.

“I might,” you replied.

“Can I come in?” he asked somewhat innocently. All you could do was nod and step back to let him in. He looked around to make sure no one else saw and opened the door to the restroom. You could hear The Weeknd’s “Can’t Feel My Face” pumping through the speakers. He stepped in and you were standing chest to chest with each other.

“I noticed you looking when you first walked in,” he said in a hushed tone, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You did? Was I that obvious?” you said flushed.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice me looking at you. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he said huskily.

His hands wandered up your arms onto your shoulders pushing your hair back.

“The things I would do to you, if only you’d let me,” he said, sighing.

“Who said I wouldn’t?” you flirted back. He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.

“Like what?’ he asked, a devilish look flashed in his eyes.

“I might let you kiss me,” you said softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“What if I can’t stop myself?” he asked, melting into your gaze.

“Let’s just start with a kiss and see where it goes from there,” you bit your lip and rested your hands on his waist. You could see his chest rising and falling heavily with anticipation. He lowered his neck so he could reach down and kiss you softly at first. You inhaled his expensive cologne, his lips felt like soft pillows you landed on. Kissing him made jolts of electricity shoot out of your nerve endings and made you feel like you were about to explode. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin and wondered if he felt them too. He cradled your neck in the crook of his arm as he started to kiss you more passionately. His hand started tracing your clavicle, daring to go slightly lower before he stopped himself.

“It’s okay,” you said out of breath, not wanting to stop kissing him or stop doing anything else that stemmed from that. He lowered his hand almost hesitant at first, but when he let go of any inhibitions, he was like a wild beast clawing at you and ready to tear your clothes off.

It was as if he didn’t know what to touch first, his hands mindlessly wandering around your body grabbing your ass, your shoulders, your breast. It was like he was just as excited as you were, unable to contain the electricity within. You weren’t kissing each other very long before someone knocked on the door, startling the both of you.

“Be right out,” he called. He looked in the mirror, seeing your smeared berry lip gloss on his face and smirking it, deciding not to wipe it off. He opened the door to see Soonyoung waiting. Hoshi’s innocent eyes looked between the both of you.

“What just-” he raised an accusatory finger up at the both of you.

“We’re gonna be right back,” Jay told him while grabbing your hand and pushing past him. He walked you out onto the summer street past the line of people waiting to get into the bar. You hadn’t been outside for a few seconds and you could already feel the humid air sticking to the backs of your legs. He took you to a darkened alleyway behind the bar where no foot traffic was passing by. You went around to a stack of crates and boxes and he held you against the wall, kissing every inch of you. You instinctively lifted your dress, begging him to take you.

He looked around briefly to make sure you couldn’t be seen from the street before unzipping his pants. He slid a couple of fingers inside of you, surprised at how moist you already were without any stimulation.

“You want me that bad already, huh?” he smiled under his breath.

“You have no idea,” you told him, trying to resist the urge to rip the buttons off of his shirt. Your hands wander up and down his strong, muscular arms hiding under his shirt. You held onto his shoulders as he used some of your juices to lubricate his dick before he slid it into you. You hadn’t been with anyone in so long you could feel him stretching you the deeper he went in. You started to let out a moan before he used his left hand to cup your mouth, muffling any noise. He held you by your ass with his other hand, making sure you wouldn’t fall over. He was fighting moaning himself, grunting and breathing into your shoulder.

“Fuck you feel so tight,” he finally said once he got a rhythm going.

“You feel amazing,” you told him. You squeezed your insides and felt his dick twitch in side of you, this time you placed your hand over his mouth just as he was about to let out a moan. You started to suck a little on his hand cupped over your mouth as you squeezed him and you could swear you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He removed the hand over your mouth and reached down and started rubbing your swollen clit. You bit your lip so hard you thought you were going to draw blood. You squeezed him so tight you could feel his shoulders tensing and shaking like he was about to release.

“Fuck, baby, keep doing that, I’m going to cum,” he announced. He kept rubbing circles around your sensitivity, you kept squeezing him and in a short few seconds the both of you reached your climax. Just as he pulled out you released your juice all over the ground in front of you, making him release that much harder as streams of his white goo sprung on top of yours. He tucked himself into his pants before helping you step over the mess the two of you made.

“Well, that was hot,” he finally said after you had walked onto the street, the berry lip gloss casting a shine around his mouth.

“I know, and I didn’t even want to come out tonight,” you said nonchalantly.

“Well, I’m glad you did - uh,” he stopped in his tracks and looked at you while blushing.

“I never got your name.”

“It’s y/n,” you said sweetly. He smiled and kissed you like he never wanted to let you go.

“‘I’m glad I met you, y/n.”

[sadtonight]

"I like it loose, thanks"

Summary: your boyfriend notices your special way of dressing. Specifically, he realises that your wardrobe consisting solely of oversized things.

Characters: Pomefiore;

Warnings: none (I mean should Vil qualify as a separate warning?), mild spoilers in Rook's section, reader is gender neutral, established romantic relationships;

Side notes: to everyone who dresses like that because I usually don't. Why am I writing this then? Felt like it and it's pretty cute imho~ I personally enjoy wearing both tight fitting and loose clothes, I highly recommend you to experiment with outfits and not be afraid of trying new things.

Vil

— that's the first thing he notices upon meeting you for the first time and even though Vil haven't said it outright it showed in his body language: he kept his arm crossed throughout the conversation, his face relatively high and steely eyes that would run up and down your whole being evaluating every detail;

— professional model was judgemental, it's not something that he would tone down for his friends or especially his partner since he always was seeking to improve himself and what surrounded him daily, including people;

— Vil is not a fan of clothes that do not fit well to put it mildly, whether it be too tight or too loose, so your boyfriend would not lay off until he changes your habits about choosing oversized items over proper fit, or at least not after you propose reasonable arguments as to why he should let you be;

— if you tell him you wear bigger clothes because you are self-conscious about your body or some parts of it...well good luck getting rid of your boyfriend now;

— beautiful male will drag you to every store, shopping mall and boutique in search of perfect clothing that would follow almost all of your demands;

— most of Pomefiore residents would melt if they experienced the same care and conscientiousness that you received from their fair dorm leader. He would ask your opinion on each and every wrinkle in the sketches of the outfit and looks he put together specifically for you and would get moody if you refuse to cooperate;

— if you tell Vil that you just feel comfortable wearing such type of clothes he would be pissed off yet he ultimately would leave you be;

— if anything your boyfriend is now set on making the most with the style you choose and might even drabble in oversize fit to match you. Not if the only things you wear are hoodies and jeans, then he would be wondering if you were truly a blessing or a curse;

— stealing Vil's clothes is strictly forbidden unless you inform him beforehand, however you can only wear them as long as they don't drag against the floor and don't get in the way of your movements. Provided clothes actually not look half bad on you, Vil may buy you your own piece yet it would be not as big as the original, sadly;

Rook

— one word: beautiful! The hunter had pieced together your ways of dressing a bit later than his dorm leader and yet this detail was another reason to fawn over you!

— Rook was acutely interested in why did you wear oversized clothes. Could it be that you are concealing items underneath your clothing? Maybe weapons? How cleaver! He would peak from all possible angles and try to poke and nudge into you, trying to find hidden daggers;

— if you don't mind blond male touching you, once you two are together this way of behaviour will form into the habit where he would often greet you by snaking his gloved hands under your clothes to feel your warmth and maybe get lucky and prompt you to show him some sort of reaction;

— Rook Hunt adores you from top to bottom so whatever reasoning for you style is, he is ready to spectate or aid. That doesn't stop him from recommending you one piece of clothing or another however. Don't take it close to heart, your boyfriend is just a curious person who wants to see his beloved in a variety of attires. Indulge him a few times and for a good while you won't stop hearing love poems he came up with, regarding your looks and emotions they sparked in him;

— if you go out together outside, do not lend him any of your big clothes under any circumstances. Even though the hunter is always ready for any potential prey to come into sight, he can't carry all hunting equipment with himself, especially if it's a formal date. The moment Rook receives your oversized sweater he pounces into the bushes, emerging with a trashing yarn ball and boasting about catching a massive fulvous hare;

— the male bought you several pricey sweaters of your choice in compensation to that ruined one, but you still give him a side eye and reluctantly share your long warm scarf with him ever since that day;

— asking for Rook's clothes can be tricky, because if you were to do so when he was still in Savanaclaw dorm you would only find dirty tatted things instead of shirts and pants. Some things were straight up ripped to shreds which made you feel concerned about your boyfriend well-being;

— there are not many interesting choices in Pomefiore Rook's closet, save for a few hats adorn by feathers and his dorm uniform itself which he gladly gives to you to wear. On a condition that he gets to take an abundant amount of photos with you! Your boisterous boyfriend can't just get enough of you can he?

Epel

—the calmest of the three. Country boy haven't even noticed you wearing oversized things for an extremely long while. It's pretty common to wear whatever you want in his village, Epel himself has worn his father's overalls, shirts and denim jackets, which were bigger than what he was accustomed to. Honestly, he didn't even know what "oversized" meant prior to joining Pomefiore;

— the male was quite envious of the fact that you could dress however you preferred. If he were to wear a hoodie, especially if it was even one size bigger, he would be forced to get an earful from Vil... Speaking of his dorm leader, Epel stopped inviting you over to his dorm precisely because he didn't want you to be scolded;

— once petite male became your boyfriend and got comfortable enough with your presence, he started feeling content in your room, going as far as to call it his second home. One day, Epel had gone bored waiting for you to come back so he scanned the room in search of something engaging when his gaze fallen on your chair;

— there was one of your oversized hoodies, resting on the furniture. Curiously got better of him and the lavender haired boy got up from your bed and pulled the clothing on himself. Epel thought that it would make him seem bigger yet it has done the opposite!! His frame looked even smaller in your hoodie, it resembling more of a dress with how it was reaching past his knees;

— if the first word you say upon seeing him is "cute" your boyfriend will most likely shriek and try to undress himself with all of his might. He doesn't want you to remember him as frail and small damnit! He was supposed to be strong and reliable looking guy!

— shortly speaking, it's Epel who will steal your clothes while you two are alone, occasionally though. Unless you happen to be even smaller than him: expect to be given his clothes frequently, he loves seeing his partner look tiny in his already small attire. It gives him this strange feeling of smugness;

— country boy requested his grandma to make an apple themed sweater for you in hopes of the two of you visiting his home on winter breaks. Epel even considered knitting you a huge woollen scarf with yarn he got from his relatives, almost giving up on the idea at one point;

— knitting is not masculine, he doesn't want anyone and especially you see him doing something girlish...Thanks to his observant vice dorm leader who encouraged the male and unwittingly hinted to inform Vil of Epel's views on knitting, you were presented a cute but a bit crudely knitted scarf from your flustered but relieved with your positive reception boyfriend.

[cebwrites]

stealing their clothes (Zoro, Law, Killer)

masc reader he/they law, trans zoro word count: 0.8k

Zoro

He’s not very tall, at least in comparison to the average height on the Grand Line, but Zoro is a broad lad

He’s smug about how loose his shirts are on your shoulders and doesn’t bother to hide an inch of it

Zoro doesn’t wear perfume, but he does like catching a whiff of his natural scent on you when he hugs his partner from behind, wearing his shirt

It is Zoro though, and he’s stinky, so you don’t make a habit of it

That said, if you give him an incentive to wash these clothes more by wearing them (the clean ones), mossy might be compelled to swing more in your favor~

Zoro’s pants tend to be very loose for better mobility when he’s running around swinging his swords, and he definitely likes seeing you wearing them - preferably without a top on like him, showing off his top scars - the most on lazy days where the two of you just get to chill, or even during training

Although, you might need a belt if you do decide to rock some marimo joggers, or at least tighten the strings a lot, because Zoro’s a big boy and he’s also proud of that

If you ask him nicely enough, he just might let you use his bandana as an accessory - highly suggest you wash it (thoroughly) first, though, god knows that Zoro doesn’t

Law

They’re annoyed, first and foremost, that you keep stretching out his hoodies - Law’s at the very least relieved that there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that you’d fit into his skinny jeans, unable to even get them past your knees

He’s lanky and you love that about them - long legs, grabbable waist and everything - but the unfortunate circumstance of that is that sharing clothes isn’t always a viable option, or at least not sharing clothes that fit well

That aside, however, there’s a non-insignificant part of them that really likes their clothes on you; it’s cute gay shit, not that Law would admit it out loud that they see it as such and it makes them happy

Law’s jolly roger stretched a little distorted across your chest, their cologne lingering on your skin from his clothes even long after you’ve taken it off, wearing them afterwards and still getting hints of your shampoo on it - it’d be a point of pride for Law and a not-so-subtle claim on you as their own

Not that Law was the type of person to be overly possessive anyway, but if there’s one thing that Law is, it’s petty, and what better way to show everyone that you were theirs than to have you in his clothes?

That said, Law will 100% return the favor, so if you find that something in your own wardrobe’s gone missing, check their office or the bedroom - Law can tolerate a little teasing about it, as a treat, but not a lot

As an added bonus; even if it’s not an item of clothing that’s theirs, Law definitely likes seeing you in animal print like his own - just be prepared for whatever that is to be “borrowed” and may or may not be returned later until you pick it up from Law’s laundry basket

Killer

Another man built like a brick shithouse - what exactly are they eating on the Grand Line and is it testosterone???

Killer likes seeing you in his clothes; wandering into the kitchen for a late night snack with him wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts that reached your thighs while Killer only had a pair of tatty old joggers on

The kind of domestic shit that Kill never thought would happen for someone like him but here you are, lighting up his life by being a little shithead, getting on his nerves for fun much like your captain does and showing affection to each other through loving banter

Killer’s at least a semi-private person, so he wouldn’t encourage strutting around like that when the rest of the crew could see, but at the same time if you did, that was your prerogative and he couldn’t stop you

Any and all teasing from other Kidd Pirates - or even the captain - though, would be promptly ignored

Just as he is reserved, however, he’s also cheeky, so every now and again out of left field, when you’re wearing nothing but one of his shirts, chatting to someone out on the deck during an early morning when the sun and most rest of the crew have yet to rise - he’ll smack you on the ass as he passes by on his way to make breakfast

If you needle him about it later on asking why, he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about and that it “never happened” to his knowledge - you then get into a noogie fight with Kill about it that dissolves into sweet, private laughter