#because they are physical proof that your loved one existed

[a3711]

I’ve experienced a lot of loss. And this is unbelievably true. Every tiny thing you leave behind will be loved.

I have bottles of wine from my friend who made it and they are the prize of my collection. I can’t drink alcohol. Regardless, those bottles are loved. And when I’m done cooking with them? You bet your ass they will be lovingly stored as vases for flowers.

I have a scrap of fabric from a jam jar, that I painstakingly sewed the edges on so that it wouldn’t unravel.

I have a keychain featuring a sports team for a sport I don’t even watch.

I have minerals with no monetary value that sit in a position of honour on my shelves, that I dust every week. I hate dusting with a bloody passion, but those rocks will stay clean until the day I die.

I have a coin and empty bullet casing that was found in a small bag that I was left. They live in my fireproof safe. That coin is worth a grand total of a dollar, and I wouldn’t part with it for anything.

I have pocket knives with chipped edges that will never stay sharp enough to be used, but are lovingly polished and oiled anyway.

I have tools that my disabled hands can’t wield, but are stored in a waterproof box.

I have a scrap of paper with handwriting on it, that I will protect with my life.

Collect things with abandon.

It doesn’t matter how strange or insignificant they seem. They will be deeply valued, because YOU are deeply valued and any connection that can be held onto is priceless.

i want ten million trinkets but i also want my death to not be a burden for those I leave behind

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.

Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.

I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.

Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗

Bill cipher

Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.

Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.

But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.

You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.

Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)

Stanford Pines

Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.

Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.

He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.

After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.

You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.

He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.

Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.

He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.

[daenysx]

hellooo i just saw open where the reader is shy and it was so sweet but can you write the same context with a more confident reader like she wakes up sees rem and is like 'oh hey its my husband'

hi, i hope you like this!! in this one they have a more established relationship than the shy!reader one <333

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff

remus likes how your apartment smells.

it's so you. it's like a physical proof of your existence, and remus is grateful for it. he lets himself in quietly, you gave him a spare key weeks ago. he doesn't prefer using it when you can open the door, it's always a delight to see you welcoming him but this time he has to take care of himself. you're sleeping.

he hopes he won't freak you out, he knows you don't have a problem with him coming unannounced and it's a relief even though he always texts you before. he puts the grocery bags on kitchen counter quietly. trying to control where he steps, he comes to your room without making the floor creaking.

your room is not too messy. you always try to convince remus the things are organized in their way, just because they seem messy it doesn't mean they are baby, and remus believes you. you're sleeping soundly in your bed on your right side. you're hugging your pillow, your head on the soft material and your arm on the side.

remus approaches carefully. he sits on the closest empty spot on bed without disturbing you. he doesn't know how to wake you up now, you look so peaceful and honestly, he wants you to get some rest. he rubs a faint finger on your cheek, your eyelashes flutter. blinking your eyes open so slowly, you see remus.

"remus?" you ask, as if you've been dreaming about him and can't believe he's real.

"good morning, pretty." he smiles. "you can keep sleeping, i just wanted to let you know i'm here."

you give him a big big smile and stretch your muscles with a poor attempt. "it's so nice to see you first thing in the morning." you say, leaning on your elbow to kiss his cheek.

"yeah?" remus asks, fixing your bed hair.

"mm-hmm." you nod. "can you do it every day?"

he laughs. "if that's what you want, i can."

you pull him towards you gently, throwing the pillow in the way, and letting remus keep you on his chest. "maybe i should just keep you here." you mumble against him softly.

remus kisses your forehead fondly. you're being too sweet on him and it's so early. he rubs a gentle hand on your back, you should sleep a bit more, or he won't know how to handle your cuteness.

"what time is it?" you ask.

"almost 9 i think." remus answers. "are you tired?"

you snuggle closer. "a little. do you wanna sleep some more? are you hungry?"

remus can sleep with you anytime you want actually. that's like the canon truth of his reality now, you're so warm under the covers and so soft against him. you like waking up before him to kiss his entire face and remus loves opening his eyes to your shameless kisses. he wraps his arm tighter around your body.

"let's sleep, angel." he whispers. "gonna make you pancakes for breakfast."

"we don't have any fruit." you say, sadly.

remus kisses your pout off quickly. "i got you your favorites from the store."

your pout turns into a smile in 2 seconds and you press yourself closer to his neck. "my hero." you say against his ear before kissing the soft skin beneath it. "thank you."

remus adjusts the covers, he kisses you as an answer. your bed is too comfy, he practically melts against you and it's so nice. so nice to have you in his arms first thing in the morning, so nice to have you kiss him sweetly, so nice to be accepted like he belongs here.

he falls asleep before you and you kiss his chin with your eyes closed.

[hellfiremunsonn]

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases. 

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 

"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

[eamour]

time delays are inexistent.

a common misconception is that the "3D needs time to catch up to your new beliefs" and that there is a so called "time gap" between establishing a new belief and actually fully believing in it, resulting in the physical materialisation of that belief in your reality.

limiting beliefs about time.

there is no universal law that predicts your manifestation is going to take 5 days minimum to manifest. it doesn’t have to take at least 3 days. there are no 'big' and 'small' desires. nothing is easier or harder to manifest. these are all rules limiting your power as GOD. you are always in control and in charge of your beliefs and therefore your manifestations. there is no force that exists outside of you that could determine your manifestation's embodiment into the physical, nor convince you of a delay in manifestation.

reflection of current beliefs.

the 3D reflects to you your now present beliefs. what you believe your I AM to be now will be reflected to you. your physical reality immediately materialises your fixed set of beliefs. it doesn’t show you what you once believed in but stopped believing in. if you change your belief, your 3D will give you evidence of that. again, your 3D is an indicator for your state aka the physical embodiment of your beliefs. in order to tell which beliefs you have, you just need to take a look at your outer world.

"old" beliefs and convictions.

the only time we can speak of "old" beliefs and convictions is when we are changing our reality. let’s say i am to shift my state because i want desire Y while being in my state X, experiencing an undesirable thing X. i would then have to shift my state X to state Y. but while shifting my state, i may still encounter the contents of my state X, although i'm trying to experience state Y. in this case, i can refer to my unfavourable state X as my former state, my old beliefs and say that whatever i am experiencing in the 3D now, it’s something from the past. although i'm still witnessing it in the present, to me, it’s part of my old self — the self that has embodied the state X.

instant manifestation.

the question is, why does it take time to manifest then? manifestation has to be instant since your physical reality can only show you proof to your current state. so, this leaves only one answer: you aren’t embodying your state… yet. being able to identify with your desired state depends on the frequency you return to it. it depends on your relation to that state. once it becomes normal, once you start to feel familiar with it, then it will most definitely materialise.

with love, ella.

[justrustandstardust]

i’ve touched on it briefly, but i’d like to delve further into kenjaku’s purpose as a literary device because it’s genuinely really fucking interesting. what gege did with kenjaku was actually genius, because kenjaku is a physical manifestation of gojo's love for geto in the form of geto himself.

the love between gojo and geto is both explicitly and implicitly demonstrated throughout the series. we see it in open declarations (he was my best friend, the only one i had) and in subtler ways (how they never fight each other directly, how geto is careful not to kill gojo’s students in combat). these, however, are from gojo and geto’s perspectives. we only see what they want us to see; much of the beauty of their relationship is in how so much of it is meant for the two of them alone.

as an outsider, kenjaku overrides them and drags their intimacy into the limelight, providing unobjectionable evidence of the love between them. he supersedes their carefully curated impressions to point at the undeniable truth in the most violent, grotesque way imaginable, making their love clear for all to see through hijacking geto’s body— which he could only do because gojo loved him.

not only does kenjaku’s plan require geto’s body to work (because gojo couldn’t throw him away) kenjaku literally only exists in geto’s body for the same reason (because gojo couldn’t throw him away). gojo’s sentiment and his weakness come back to haunt him; shibuya happens because kenjaku knew the only surefire way to disarm gojo was through the body of geto himself.

from a literary perspective, gojo’s love for geto is not implicit— it literally arises from the dead to serve as walking, talking proof that gojo loved geto too much to let him go. kenjaku functions to mechanize gojo’s love through the body of the person he loved so dearly and in doing so creates a living representation of the explicit, blatant and undeniable love between them. it’s not subtext; it’s just text.

as a literary device, kenjaku exists as material evidence that they loved each other. it’s not speculative, it’s not conjecture, it’s not reaching— it is right there. we’re not meant to trust gojo’s word; he is not a reliable narrator of his own nature. gojo never had to say he loved geto because kenjaku says it for him. it’s analogous to vehemently denying your guilt in court only for someone to turn up with the body and your handprint around its neck.

and kenjaku delivers a guilty verdict, sentencing gojo to the prison realm and dooming everyone else because being the strongest wasn’t enough to save gojo from love himself.

[piggycyberwarrior]

Ekko SWF-Alphabet

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

!not proof read!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Ekko is the type of boyfriend that would constantely pepper your face with kisses. He knows how easily people can die- can be killed- so he tries to shower you with affection.

He likes to show you how much he loves you, because he is kinda confused with words. He is a warrior- a leader, not a big talker? he tries tho.

I would say he is pretty affectionate but mostly behind closed doors. As i said- he's a leader, he shouldn't be smooching his girl next to the firelights... he thinks its inappropriate. But in a calmer, more softer setting- boii he's all over you!!

B = Bribe (Can you bribe him?)

Yes and No.

Ekko is loyal as fuck. He would never EVERR betray the ones dear to his heart. But small and unnecessary things like

"Okay.. would you come with me if i give you one- no TWO kisses?"

Yeah. nope he would immediately jump off the couch and sprint towards you. He doesn't play there..

He kinda sees it as a payment...

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I PERSONALLY think that Ekko likes Hugs way more than cuddles. I'll explain:

You know that one hug that hits so good? Nose burried in their neck- inhaling their scent- arms tight around the person after you saw them finally- FINALLY again and all these emotions are put in that hug.

^ He loves that so much when he comes home, tired from a mission

That doesn't mean he does not like Cuddles. I think Ekko loves to lay his head onto your Chest/boobies all the time. crushing you under his weight and laughing when you grumble because of his stupid antics

or being the big spoon (like almost never the little spoon- only when he needs comfort). he loves it that he can make you feel safe in his arms

He likes to nap while cuddling but i think he doesn't really like to sleep at NIGHT when cuddling. That! man! needs! his! space!! (Napping while cuddling is okay idk why??)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes he really wants to settle down with you somewhere safe and sound- a place that doesn't exist now, unfortunately. Thats why he works so hard. maybe he can give you that home you deserve someday.

That man is a COOK. Full ass GORDON RAMSAY like its not even normal??? He even enjoys it- apron on, humming a little melody while making breakfast for the two of you.

he loves to help you at home even tho he barely has time between eating , sleeping and his duties. But you don't mind. he asks some of his people to help you out if you really need help with the chores.

is kinda shitty at cleaning- kinda never learned to do it... i mean he grew up in Zaun.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I'm sorry but like i said he is kinda shitty with words so he tries to rip the bandaid off real quick by breaking up through text/letters...

He doesn't really feel good about it too- feels like an asshole to be honest but he can't help it :(

if they wanted to talk about it though- he tries

he is okay with the fact that you hate him because of his break-up-style

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Ekko is a little bit scared? of commitment. He kinda doesn't wanna be "caged"- he feels as if his freedom has been pushed into a box, but in reality he just needed to find the right person.

I think Ekko needs some time to really REALLY settle with the fact that he loves his s/o and that can take some time.

But oh boi when it happens- he wants to marry you immediately!! Like mentioned he knows that life is short- so he tries to marry you as quick as possible.

But he understands it if you need time to think about it or aren't ready yet.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Ekko's kinda rough around the edges as he grew up in a rough atmosphere. Sometimes his grip is too strong- his attempts to tickle you can hurt a bit and his hands are calloused as well.

But in the end he never wants to hurt you and is extremely gentle towards you as much as he can

he is so much gentler to you than to anyone else. always makes sure you aren't stressed or anything like that.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes.Yes.Yes!! he loves hugs like mentioned earlier. It just fits better into his lifestyle as he can quickly but passionately hug you before or after a mission and can also do that in public. he cannot cuddle you outside on the street :/

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not that fast. Boi has some serious trust issues and you probably have to initiate the big ol' L-Word. When he finally says it- he will never stop saying it.

He willl always shower you with 'I love you's' and expects you to also say it back. he's just a sucker for that simple sentence even tho he was kinda wary of the concept of love

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Doesn't get jealous. Just doesn't, he trusts you completely. Period.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

His kisses are like him. Sweet but passionate, as well as a sprrrinkle of roughness.

he loves the traditional way of kissing you. on the lips. he is addicted to the taste of them on his and can kiss you till dawn. (he doesn't mind that you call him a simp)

He also loves to give you small pecks on your face but mostly the side of your head when you did something cute or stupid.

Always has his hands on you when you kiss- either on your throat, back or waist.

Also grins into kisses like ahhhrgcvszdc PLEASE

L = Little ones (Would he like to have Children?)

Loves children- I mean he keeps them save in the HQ too like what did you expect...

Would also love to have children when he's older.. kinda a dream of his. Probably 3 kids. Is still okay with it if you don‘t like to have kids- respects it!

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

i kind of have the feeling that dis man is such a morning grouch :/ soooorry

like he always wants to sleep more (in other words- has a fucked up sleep schedule)

Still he loves it when you kiss him awake- and he would always and i mean ALWAYS!! roll on top of you and squish you under him with a laugh before pressing kisses on your face and getting up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

OHH THAT BITCH IS A NIGHT OWL. He is always so much goofier at nighttime (you know that weird 3am energy?? Exactly)

He likes it when you are sitting on his lap at night though, while he is fiddling at some prototype. Your fingers lazily playing with his dreads while he nuzzled himself onto your shoulder while working

Its a mix of both energy’s- late snack runs or slow evenings.

ALSO LOVES TO SLOW DANCE WITH YOU IN THE KITCHEN AT NIGHT!!!!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As i said, he takes his time to fully trust you. If you grew up together- he would‘ve probably told you a lot of things already. If you didn‘t- he is kinda hesitant to tell you at first. I think he would start revealing things about himself after a good few months of dating. He takes his time with those things

still he will always listen when you have something to tell him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It depends. When he is frustrated- his patience is very thin- but when he is in his normal mood- it’s out of gold

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

REMEMBERS EVERYTHING. It is truly getting creepy. He knows everything???

birthday, likes, dislikes, all the family gossip you told him one day- even remembering all of your family member’s names, favorite book, favorite hyperfixation at the moment, favorite place- everything you mentioned to him once.

lol he laughs everytime you think he forgot something and he proves you wrong- you‘re just like:🧍‍♀️

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

that one hot ass summer night were you were both almost naked (nothing seggsual) - sweating like a pig- window wide open- not able to sleep and just talking bout shit. -> leading to you telling him you love him.

He didn‘t mind the humid heat in the end. Just feeling so happy.

always remembers that moment and feels giddy when there is a hot summer night…

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

He loves it when you defend him verbally. He can fight- and doesn‘t want you to hurt yourself in the process- but seeing you argue with someone for him is making his heart race.. <3

like i said he doesn‘t get jealous but is neverthless protective. He knows that Zaun is fucking dangerous- also knows that you can protect yourself but he wants to keep any harm from you..

always being your guard dog and even fighting people that bitch at you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?)

I think he always gets you something when he‘s in Piltover- books or small things that you like..

He likes to have dates in the privacy of your home- nothing extraordinary…. I am SO SORRY BUT THIS MAN ISN‘T A FAN OF ANNIVERSARIES!! He just doesn‘t get the point?? For him everyday is an anniversary.

He still plans the home dates (puts a lot of effort in the planning part)- and everytime you do something new fun!!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Nail Biting, Workaholic, Insomnia, such a gossip girl 😭 its funny tho.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

That Man is proud!!! He worked so much, trained so much did everything to become the person he is- loves his muscles and is kinda concerned how he looks

(Have you seen that man? Face paint on the spot- dreads styled like that and always revealing that yummy bicep..)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

yes- next question

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

100% a cat person. He loves them but will never admit it. When he first saw one as a kid- he begged Benzo to let him adopt it. Still visits it‘s grave. Kinda has a fur allergy but he doesn‘t care 💀

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

hates hates HATES it when his partner is rude or disrespectful for no reason. (Sure, its a different story when you are getting shit on) but he just finds it so bad when you insult someone for no reason (and mean it)

has no problem when you playfully call someone (him) an idiot tho…

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He is a kicker. Like bitch, stop kicking me in the ribs while sleeping 😭. Also wakes up with his head at your feet- turns around a lot. Just an active sleeper here…

you on the other hand get many bruises from his kicking…. I am so sorry

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up. 

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well? 

DINGUS: so it seemed. 

ARGYLE  😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour. 

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe. 

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance? 

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next? 

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve. 

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first. 

He’s making no move to get up off the floor. 

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.” 

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through. 

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious. 

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you. 

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion. 

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?” 

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.” 

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything. 

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.” 

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.” 

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours. 

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.” 

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms. 

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush? 

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively. 

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.” 

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.” 

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit. 

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?” 

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better. 

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.” 

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.” 

“Then consider this your notice.” 

Is this what I had always been missing out on? 

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning. 

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?” 

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.” 

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.” 

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you. 

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there. 

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home. 

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really. 

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions. 

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation. 

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.” 

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?” 

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?” 

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?” 

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.” 

“What have you guys been doing?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.” 

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?” 

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says. 

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.” 

“Am I?” 

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder. 

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.” 

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“ 

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.” 

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.” 

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.” 

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet. 

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.” 

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket. 

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.” 

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over. 

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now. 

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around. 

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.” 

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night. 

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly. 

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center. 

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well. 

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it. 

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches. 

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now. 

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now. 

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.” 

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.” 

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.” 

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?” 

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t. 

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing. 

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it. 

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to. 

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave. 

Eddie’s quick to follow. 

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure. 

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C. 

Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

But it sure does feel like it. 

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave. 

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you. 

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?” 

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?” 

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck. 

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.” 

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you. 

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

Time. You two needed time apart. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” 

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet. 

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away. 

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful. 

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went. 

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart. 

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.” 

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat. 

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind? 

That wasn’t really complicated. 

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.” 

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes. 

You wish you would have kissed him. 

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-” 

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend. 

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours. 

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be. 

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems. 

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted. 

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you. 

Rough’s a good way to put it. 

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it. 

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend. 

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy. 

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress. 

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie. 

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along. 

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless. 

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration. 

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again. 

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two.  And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s. 

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two. 

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him. 

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time. 

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to. 

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears. 

EDDIE: Make it home okay? 

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now. 

YOU: yep. my roommate just left. 

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember? 

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud. 

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone. 

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams. 

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care. 

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened. 

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now. 

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds. 

EDDIE: Ah. I see. 

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over? 

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems. 

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down. 

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours. 

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos. 

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you. 

YOU: About what? 

EDDIE: I’m not home right now. 

Your heart clenches. 

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not. 

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere. 

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is. 

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step. 

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you. 

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. 

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues. 

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist. 

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.” 

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter. 

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool. 

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?” 

“Start over?” you question wearily. 

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.” 

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves. 

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.” 

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.” 

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you. 

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss. 

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?” 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” 

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home. 

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.” 

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

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[loveandmurders]

Could I request a hc where the slashers have an s/o who completely dotes on them? Like always patches up their injuries, fixes tears in their clothes, makes things for them, makes their favorite meals, serves them the first and biggest helping of food etc? (With Thomas, Bo and Vincent please)

Hello there, thank you so much for this request!

I hope you will enjoy it <3

EVERYTHING FOR MY BOY

Gender neutral reader with no physical description.

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of blood and pain, quick mentions of sexual activities, one or two strong languages.

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy had always been taught he needed to take care of his family and to fulfil their needs before his own. No matter the situation.

So it was quite something new for him when someone in his life started to do the same with him by prioritising his needs, desires and happiness. If it was his duty to take care of his family and you, it was also yours to make sure your big boy was doing good.

He was very embarrassed at first when you, his soulmate, started to look after him. He wasn’t too sure how to react or what to do about it.

Before you came into his life, it used to be Mama who was taking care of his injuries, but now you were there, you were the one dealing with it. And you took the situation very seriously because you hated to imagine him in pain.

Before you, even if he was hurt, he would keep doing his work and chores until the end of the day. His well being meant nothing to him.

With you, it was different.

You were caring with your gentle giant. You always forced him to sit down so you could have a look at his body and make sure he was doing alright. You also made sure he took painkillers.

You made sure to always be by his side, including to help him take care of his leather mask. Even though the man was good with his hands and was quite crafty, you were always ready in case he would need your opinion or your help. Your hands were smaller than his so it was easier for you to do more delicate things as well.

After his day of work, you also loved to massage him under the shower. At first, it was difficult for him to relax. He loved your touch on him but he wasn’t sure he deserved that kind of treatment.

Plus it felt wrong to have you doting on him: he was the one supposed to do so.

But you were determined and you threatened him a lot for him to let you do. You won because he hated even more to do something that would upset you. 

He had never slept so well in his whole existence. Your massages were the most divine of things for him. He still felt bad about it though, so he was more than eager to return the favour in any way you might like.

In a way you both had to fight with each other to be allowed to take care of one another.

Tommy didn’t want to be doted on, especially if it meant he couldn’t do the same with you right away. And you wanted to be there for him, and to force the man to think about himself first for once in his existence.

When Tommy hadn’t been around a lot because of work, you also liked to cook for him. You knew what your man loved the most, and you would do it for him. It also meant that he was going to be the first one you would serve at dinner and you would always make sure that he had the biggest portion.

If Hoyt said anything about that, you would quickly reply “Have you seen the size of this boy? He needs to eat”. It would slightly embarrass Tommy, but it would also warm his chest. 

Even if he would rather die than admit it, he loved to be taken care of. And he loved that you would try to make him happy. He had never felt that lucky in his whole life.

Once you would be alone in your shared bedroom, he would thank you for the food with tender gestures and kisses. He would be all over you like a giddy puppy and he wouldn’t stop loving on you until you would giggle at the nonstop attention.

Bo Sinclair

Bo was a conservative guy so in his happiest dreams, his soulmate would be doting around on him and would take care of him.

But Bo was also a man who had a lot of demons and who was pretty certain he didn’t deserve anyone to love him that much. Actually, he might find it suspicious if someone would be eager to take care of him, if it wasn’t his siblings.

When you appeared in his life, you did start to take care of him to not get killed. You were a tourist, and Bo was badly hurt. He gave you the choice to help him out and to not get killed, or to try and run away and to be hunted down and destroyed in the most painful way possible.

Of course, you chose to stay and help. 

But it felt quite natural to care for him, and Bo never had to get mad at you because you wouldn’t have been careful enough with him. Your gestures were always gentle and soft to him.

That was why he had wanted to keep you around. And you continued to dote on him, but because you started to truly enjoy him and this life.

You would cook for him and most importantly bake for him and his siblings (the boys had sweet teeth, you can’t convince me otherwise).

You always tried your best for him and his family.

As a family man, it was really important for him that you also treated Vincent and Lester with tenderness, but a different kind that you gave him of course (he was very jealous and possessive of you obviously)

He would love to see you coming into his garage with some drinks and cookies or something freshly made and baked. He would stop whatever he was doing to sit down with you on his lap, and enjoy the little feast you prepared for him. 

If tourists interrupted the moment, he would be very pissed and he would kill them the most quickly and yet rough way he could, before going back to you as if nothing had happened.

Because you were very doting on him and taking care of him in any ways possible, he was a lot gentler with you than he had ever been with anyone else.

You were special. Not even his Mama made sure he was alright and happy like you did. You would never hurt him, and in return he made sure to be good to you.

All your acts of services were noted in his mind, even the smallest ones. 

He didn’t always thank you, actually he very rarely did and he might be acting like an arrogant asshole. It was as if whatever you were doing was indeed natural and as if he deserved this and not any less.

But deep down, he was so grateful to have you around. He would forever keep you safe and you knew it.

Actually, he never thought of killing you. And he made sure you also knew it; he would really hate to have to hunt you down to bring you back home because he made you feel unsafe.

His way of thanking you was actually the way he treated you, especially in bed. He never forced anything on you, he never hurt you and he tried his best to always make you feel good about your body.

In his softest moment, he would even praise you and compliment you. His eyes were always showing you he was telling the truth.

He very rarely told you he loved you too but he never beat you and never yelled at you even when he was badly injured. You knew that pain was really making him a bad person, but he was always biting his lips to keep quiet. It was very different when it was Vincent taking care of him… But as said before, you were special.

Vincent Sinclair 

Because his Mama always reminded him that he had a face only a mother could love, Vincent strongly believed that he was also someone only a mother could dote on.

He was a violent and sadistic killer, after all. He didn’t see why he would deserve someone good in his life.

But you came one day, and you never left. Not that he would have allowed it anyways.

You took care of him to stay alive, and the man quickly started to be absolutely obsessed with you. He even started to keep you in the same room than him or it would drive him insane to not know where you were or what you were doing.

It meant that you started to help a lot with the wax statues. You would praise Vincent and give him the right tool, or give him your opinions if you thought something could be done better.

You also made sure he stayed hydrated and didn’t forget to eat. When he would allow you to, you would go into the kitchen to fix him something. He would always share the food you made with you, because he also wanted you to stay in good health conditions.

After some time, he even started to remind himself you both needed to eat and drink water. But he liked it better when you were the one gently whispering into his ear that it was time for a break. He enjoyed having you close to him, and he enjoyed having you taking care of him.

He couldn’t sleep without you. He often asked to sleep on your chest and to wait for him to rest before going to sleep yourself. He loved to be watched over. You were like a new mother to him.

But he loved you way more than he used to love his mother. Or at least in a very different way.

He used to be glued to his mother’s side, but he would also let her go if he was crafting. He couldn’t do that with you. His favourite way to sculpt was now with you on his lap.

For the two of you, your favourite way of doting over him was showering him.

Before you, he used to forget to take a shower, mostly because he was working until he was falling asleep on his work table.

Now, you would gently kiss his chest and neck, softly whispering to him that it was time to stop working for today. Bo never managed to make his twin stop working. But Vincent couldn’t resist you for one second.

You would guide him upstairs and into the bathroom. You would help him undress before he would watch you getting rid of your own clothes. He loved to watch you getting naked in front of him. And once in the shower or in the bath, you would start to wash his hair.

He would simply close his eyes and hug you as you took care of him. He loved the feel of your fingers gently scratching his scalp. And he loved how you would put conditioner on his long hair too. 

After his hair, you washed his body and face. You were always a little bit more tender when it was about his face.

He would lean into all your touches, completely relaxed and happy. He never felt insecure about his appearance when he was alone with you, and it only added to his obsession with you.

You were perfect, as if you came straight out from one of his fantasies.

He wasn't usually washing you. He preferred to look at you touching your own skin. But sometimes, his hands would be too itching to feel you and he would bring you all against him.

He would stroke your skin and start to play with you.

His favourite way to thank you for being so doting on him would be to kiss every inch of your skin and to pleasure you out of your mind… Not that you ever complained about it.

[shadesoflsk]

      LULLABY FOR A BROKEN HEART

pairing: Leon Kennedy x Gn reader.

summary: After a mission, Leon musters up the courage to ask for one thing he's always wanted.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, fluff, Leon is touch starved, no consumption of alcohol but there are mentions of it, injuries, mentions of trauma.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: Hello! So... I had prepared some dad leon headcanons but after reading DI manga latest chapter... I knew I had to write something about it. I wrote this with a platonic relationship in mind but you can also see it as an established relationship! I just wanted an excuse to write about Leon because he is literally an angel ueueueue. He deserves the world.

      masterlist

With heavy and wobbly steps, Leon’s blurry vision—from the lack of sleep— could make out the frame of your door, your apartment’s door. A part of him knows that he may be a burden—or that’s what he believes. Fatality, sorrow, and overall bad outcomes are the only things his mind can register.

He doesn’t want to bother you. Hell, he doesn’t want to speak to anyone right now. The fact that he somehow made it safely to your front door was enough for him to know that you would be so angry at him. You shouldn’t drive after a mission. You shouldn’t—... let yourself die. He knows all those phrases by heart. 

He’s getting better. He’s a lot better, to be honest. He no longer drinks, but he may as well look drunk right now. His head was hurting like hell, but he blamed it on his mission. He’s getting too old for that shit. But, a healthy improvement doesn’t mean that he can’t fall. 

Recovery isn’t a straight line of betterment. There are nights when he can sleep like a baby. But then again, some days, he goes to sleep knowing that a nightmare may attack his dreams. 

His fist bangs against your door, at first trying to be quiet. But after a few seconds, some desperation came within his knocking, and a louder sound filled the already silent night. 

The melancholic feeling of being alone lasts a couple of seconds before he hears some steps inside your home, those get even closer until he sees the door opening. The sight he admires before him is far from comforting. The eyebags under your eyes, your disheveled hair, and the quiet yawn that escapes your lips say it all, you were sleeping. 

At first, you don’t say anything, letting the silence in the air fill the lack of response from both parts. Yours and Leon’s, two souls that are aching right now but for different reasons.

Leon, who is hurting because he doesn’t want you to see him like this. And yours because you’d give him the world just for him to stop blaming himself. Ironic, but in reality you’re two sides of the same coin.

Amidst the countless things you want to tell Leon, you step aside allowing him to enter your apartment. The one he knows as his cozy getaway. His second home. The first one is your mere existence. 

Physical things last no more than a few weeks, months, or years. Everything is doomed to cease existing. He has witnessed it through the years he has worked as an agent. Those gigantic and marvelous houses politicians love to brag about? A bomb would destroy them. That motorcycle he loves? Yeah, that one…. No more than a few pieces remained.

But the simple fact that you were alive and breathing meant so much. He wasn’t a stranger to death. He knows that he has become desensitized to those topics as much as he denies it. But even if someone were to die, their proof that they belonged to this world would live in those who loved them, those who were close to them. 

And that’s why you’re his home. The kind of home that served as a refuge when life got too much, when life stopped basking him with its sunlights but rather sent him a blizzard. Your presence was enough for him because you granted him the affection he has long forgotten he could have.

As he enters your apartment, the normalcy and everydayness of the living room embrace him like a thick and warm blanket. The usual smell of your scented candlelight also brings him back to the reality where he could feel safe.

He’s alone for a while, you let him sit on your couch even though he might stain it with the dirt on his pants and whole body. You don’t exactly care, you can clean it after. 

His eyes are unfocused as he waits for you to come back. At that moment, the memories of his last mission came to his mind. They don’t haunt him like they used to do in the past, where he decided to stop the voices from getting louder by drowning in alcohol.

Now, they replay in his mind like a Deja Vu, like a movie he was the main star in. However, it doesn’t mean they stop stabbing his heart knowing that he had taken lives. 

He used to be a religious person. Right now if someone asks him if he follows a certain God, he would respond with a simple no. But when he sees the bodies of those whom he had to kill, he would offer a silent prayer, asking whoever hears him that their souls could rest in peace.

Leon kills, but he’s also a lover of life. He loves the world and its people. He wants to believe that he'd be reminded as the one who fought for those who couldn’t, even if he didn’t want to be associated with that type of job.

In his mind, it may sound corny but he has started appreciating the simple things in life. The way someone would smile at him in the supermarket, the way a random stranger would greet him even though they don’t know him. It was a nice reminder that he was, in fact, alive.

Your steps break the silence—once again. In your hands, there’s a first aid kit. 

There’s a certain urgency in the way you sit next to him to treat his wounds. Your eyes never leave him as you try to make sure that nothing is hurting him. Even when he has awoken you from your sweet dreams, you’re the same caring and compassionate person as always.

An alcohol swab touches one cut he had on his temple, a bruise already forming on the skin. Proof that his head was literally slammed against a metal tube. Not his proudest moment, if he had to be honest.

“I’m not going to break, you know…” Leon finally speaks as your hand seems to slightly shake out of fear of bringing more pain to him.

You manage to let out a chuckle at his words. “I know. But I’m not taking risks.”

His eyes continue to remain fixated on your face, like a puppy who is looking at a treat. But rather, he’s like a homeless man admiring one of the prettiest houses he has ever seen.

There are no questions asked, nor complaints about anything related to his late-night visit. He appreciates the fact that he’s welcomed no matter what. Nonetheless, he can’t help but thank you for your hospitality.

“Thank you.” He murmurs as you clean another injury that was just above his eyebrow. “You’re too good for me.” Leon's words show a moment of raw sincerity.

Leon’s humanity is palpable, even when he doesn’t notice it. There’s a childlike glimmer in his eyes when he watches his favorite movies, a hint of regret when he talks about his missions, and a big sense of empathy when he speaks about the victims who died at his hands.

Leon’s kindness knows no limits. And you wish everyone could observe what an amazing human he is.

“Why is that?” You asked, scooting closer to hear him better. To pay full attention to what he’s about to say. There’s nothing Leon loves more than knowing he can really talk with someone about his feelings since he has mastered the art of closing off.

“For this…” He admits as his hands gesture your first aid kit, to your apartment as a whole. “I’m not used to being… pampered like this. I get hurt and I fix myself up.” His expression darkens slightly.

“Well… I’m here, aren’t I?” You give Leon a warm smile before pinching one of his cheeks making sure not to touch any of his cuts. “You don’t have to be alone all the time, Leon. You can rely on me.”

Leon’s lips turn into a shy smile as you pinch his cheek. “Yeah, I know.” He’s grateful for your hospitality and overall care. But it’s hard for someone who has always been in solitude to think that it’s okay to rely on someone, that it’s okay to need a person. 

He’s silent for a moment before asking a question that’s been nagging him for a while now. “But… Don’t you get tired of it? Of taking care of me?”

You instantly shake your head, responding with a blunt “Nope, never.” In fact, you would be awake all night long just to make sure he was alright. 

“You’re a God’s sent… I swear.” He chuckles as his gaze moves towards his own hands which are fidgeting. As if he was looking for something to grab, to hold onto. 

He hesitates for a few seconds, he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries but then again… He’s not used to being touched let alone hugged. But right now… he craves feeling the tender and intimate affection that a hug brings.

When was the last time he was touched? He doesn’t remember. The sole thought of admitting it’s been months if not years that he hasn’t been hugged brings embarrassment to his already troubled mind. 

You notice, you know Leon a little too well. You recognize every little quirk he has, from the way he sometimes sticks out his tongue when he’s focused on something to the way he looks at everyone before delivering a punchline.

But you wait for him, you want him to be comfortable. 

As a sigh leaves his lips, he finally speaks. “Can you hug me?” His words come out hushed, as if ashamed of himself for asking something so… banal, so simple. “I really need it.”

The way he speaks, the way his voice suddenly cracks and the way his fingers twitch even more tell you enough.

“Come here.” You encourage him, opening your arms. He wastes no time getting himself closer and wrapping his arms around you. The kindness that you’re showing him could bring him to tears, but he doesn’t let them fall. Right now, he just wants to be embraced.

He was bigger than you, being an agent built his body to be ready to fight, to kill. Of course his muscles would basically bury your frame as he curls himself into the hug. But funnily enough, he feels like a kitten that found solace on a rainy day. He feels getting even smaller and almost disappearing from the catastrophes of this world.

He could easily rest his head on your shoulder. But instead, he decides to bury his face in the crook of your neck, feeling even more at ease in this peaceful moment. Closing his eyes, he lets the warmth of your body soothe his aching soul.

He always takes care of everyone, his mind and soul are connected to people he may as well never see again. He feels too much, he feels everything. Nevertheless, there are times when he wants to be the one being doted on, to feel safe.

And right now… he is safe.

“You may think I’m stupid…” His words are muffled as his face is pressed into your neck, his stubble ever so slightly brushing against your skin.

“I sometimes think you’re stupid.” You tease him, trying to bring some humor to the situation as you sense that Leon is starting to doubt himself. Your arms hug him closer, tighter. Letting him know that you aren’t going anywhere. “But right now… I think you’re the most amazing person ever.”

Leon doesn’t say anything for the moment. His breathing is steady and calm, drowning in your so familiar scent. His fingers caress the back of your head, touching your hair reminding himself that you were there, as if the hug wasn’t enough.

“You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever known.” You murmur, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. “You fight so much, you’re so important to many people. You don’t even know how much I thank life for having a Leon Kennedy next to me.”

Your words break his heart a little. Not because you said something wrong, not at all. But rather… he can’t imagine how his existence could bring happiness to someone. Chris, Rebecca, hell everyone has helped him a lot. But you are like an anchor which he clings to.

“Don’t feed a stray dog…” He tries joking, but his voice is barely a whisper. You’re used to his jokes. Most of the time, they are harmless and light-hearted. However, sometimes they served to hide what he was truly feeling. “They’ll always come back.”

“I don’t want you to come back…”  You respond. letting your hand rub his back. “I want you to stay.”

And Leon is definitely going to stay, he’s going to stay with you and with everyone else. He will fight off every bioweapon, he will succeed in every mission. Just to come back to his home and to his life. A life he’s learning to love and enjoy.

[kynizen]

♡ obey me hcs ~ fading

prompt. as your absence from the present day persists, the demons find themselves struggling. though your room remains in pristine condition, other indicators of your presence are slowly fading. gn reader.

ft. asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

warnings. angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of depression & associated behaviors, slight suggestive mentions in asmo’s section

a/n — gods, obey me is a series with so much angst potential. as much as I adore fluff, angst is definitely something. I hope you enjoy this little set! the other four brothers will also have a set coming soon! <3

🌧️ asmodeus ;;

~ Asmo is one of the most affected by your disappearance. He tries his best to play it off casually— tries to act like he usually does. Because you never stay gone for long, right? You always find a solution and come back home to him, so surely, this time would be no different.

~ However, as the days pass, you don’t return. Solomon’s assessment and assistance doesn’t seem to be helping, either. While the sorcerer is certain that you will return… it’s anyone’s guess as to when it’ll happen.

~ When that realization sets in, Asmodeus becomes far more gloomy and upset. He sees you in everything he does— he can hardly enjoy himself when the person he loves just as much as himself isn’t there. Each time he tries to have a spa night, go shopping, or take cute photos, he’s reminded of you.

~ It always ends with him scrolling through countless photos with you— wondering how long it’d be until he saw your smile again— until he saw your presence once more.

~ Asmo is desperate to feel close to you again. He’s afraid of touching anything in your room for fear of losing the last proof that your existence has a mark in this timeline, but he can’t help himself.

~ He ends up stealing your clothing from your closet. If you had a perfume or cologne you liked wearing, he’d take that too. He reasons that he’ll just replace it when you return… if you ever come home.

~ For the most part, he holes up in his room, taking less and less care of himself as the days pass. He’ll spray your perfume/cologne on his things just to be reminded of you— just to feel like you hadn’t disappeared. He’ll wear your clothing to feel close to you— to get the ghost of a comforting presence he can’t help but miss.

~ As time continues to pass, Asmo becomes unable to look in the mirror. He knows he hasn’t been taking care of his appearance. On top of that, he doesn’t want to see his unblemished skin— not when his last memory was of you biting bruises into his skin and leaving marks on his hips.

~ That physical reminder that you loved him— up until you disappeared— he’d be unable to keep himself together if he had to see it fade. Because that’d solidify that this wasn’t just some nightmare. You were really somewhere else— and this time, there was no way to reach you.

~ At this point, insecurity starts to rear its ugly head. If you’re to return, will you even love him anymore? If he’s been too sad to take care of himself— hardly able to find happiness in anything without you— would you still love him?

~ Would you abandon him again the moment you realize that he’d desperately need to cling to you— that he had to cling to remnants of your presence just to stay sane?

~ He hates himself for thinking that. He knows you didn’t abandon him— that you wouldn’t have left if it had been your choice. But he can’t help the way his emotions muddy his mind. You were always there to help him when things got this complicated.

~ Asmo spends many nights crying— listening to your voicemails and drowning himself in your memory.

~ Eventually, he does get to a point where his brothers intervene to try their best to help him. They try to keep him distracted, help him take care of himself, and keep him company so he doesn’t feel the pain of your absence.

~ But… they know just as well as Asmodeus does that it’ll never be the same. Asmodeus loves himself, yes, but…

~ He specifically loves who he is with you. Now that you’re gone… he doesn’t feel nearly as cute, pretty, handsome— nearly as himself as he does when you’re around.

🌧️ beelzebub ;;

~ Despite how pained Beel is at your disappearance, he’d worry himself over the way it’d affect Belphie as opposed to himself. He’d spend a lot of time worrying about everyone else aside from himself— wanting to ensure that his brothers eat, sleep, and take care of themselves.

~ However, when he has a moment alone— a moment that isn’t made busy by caring for others— the crushing weight of your absence weighs heavily on him.

~ In moments of doubt, he could always go to you. You were always there to reassure and comfort him— to take care of him and his needs when he was so focused on everyone else. You always made sure that he wasn’t kind to the point of self-sabotage.

~ Without you around, he notices himself smiling less and less— finding it hard to be optimistic without your light shining on him. He wouldn’t lash out, instead internalizing everything he feels.

~ Is he allowed to be upset with you when it was out of your control? Is he allowed to be angry? He isn’t sure. Who would he even direct anger at? He wasn’t mad at you, just at the situation you happened to end up in for whatever reason— whoever was behind your disappearance is to blame, not you. He knows that.

~ Beelzebub struggles greatly with your fading presence. Leftovers you cooked slowly dwindled, and the snack stock you shared with him grew more and more scarce as the days passed. It becomes more and more apparent to him that you are gone.

~ You never left the fridge empty for long. The snack pile always seemed to replenish the moment it started growing the slightest bit smaller. On top of that, Beel felt like he never went hungry with you around. You always carried something for him, whether you were out and about or at RAD.

~ Now… he isn’t even sure if anyone in the House or Lamentation has even cooked, let alone went shopping for groceries in the wake of your disappearance. Hell, Beel wasn’t even sure the last time he had the strong appetite he associated with his sin.

~ Nowadays, he was eating what’d be considered a “normal” volume for other demons, but was starkly out of character for Beelzebub. No matter what his brothers brought him— what people tried to offer him in an attempt to get him to eat more— to smile again— it never worked.

~ He’d eat a little, enjoy a fleeting moment of happiness before remembering that you were no longer there to enjoy food with him, and he’d quickly excuse himself. Food tasted bland without you— like it was all the same taste and texture.

~ He used to enjoy mealtime because it meant lighthearted conversation and warm company during each and every meal. Now, each meal he shared with brothers was framed by the lack of your presence. And meals alone did nothing to satiate what hunger he did feel.

~ It became nothing more than a function to him. He’d try recreating your recipes just to become frustrated or disappointed when it didn’t taste the same. It didn’t have your touch— your added flair. Everything he made had that same bland, tasteless flavor to it.

~ He tries his best to continue his day to day while coping with your absence. He knows he has to still go out and do things— that’s how people feel better, right?

~ But his daily routine simply reminds you that it isn’t the same routine if you aren’t there. Waking up early to share a meal, walking to RAD together, dragging Belphie out of bed together— none of it felt the same when you weren’t there.

~ Beel’s daily life starts to lose color. And though he feels he shouldn’t burden his brothers with his struggles, it’s hard for them not to notice. When he forces a smile or forces himself to eat so they don’t worry, it only increases their ever-growing concern.

~ They try their best to keep him company and urge him to open up more to them, but they know they can’t force him.

~ Beel has a preconceived notion, likely from their past as a family, that makes him believe he has to be a mediator— he has to keep the peace between everyone with no regard to himself.

~ And you… were the only one who managed to break those walls down and cared deeply for him. Now, they hope you’ll return before Beel becomes entirely unreachable.

🌧️ belphegor ;;

~ Belphegor tries his best to act apathetic toward your disappearance. It isn’t a big deal— he can wait for you to return. Though, he isn’t exactly fooling anyone at all.

~ How could he fool anyone when he slept in your room almost every night? How could he fool anyone when he was adamant on not waking up and attending class if it wasn’t you rousing him from slumber?

~ At the end of the day, Belphie doesn’t want to admit how much of a wreck he is without you. He already views himself in a less than favorable light. He’s a burden upon his siblings— hardly able to last an entire day without sleeping, practically collapsing, the moment his body demanded rest.

~ However, you never made him feel that way. Never once did you make him believe that the condition that came with his sin made him a burden. You were happy to take care of him. You carried him when he fell asleep— let him rest on your shoulder between classes and woke him up when it was time to go.

~ How could he manage even a day’s worth of tiring work if you weren’t there to support him? He’d be reminded all over again that he’s weighed down by his sin. He’d be reminded that it’s hard to manage without you.

~ Sure, he could likely manage it without you, but he doesn’t want to. Wouldn’t that just erase your presence from his life? Getting his act together means accepting that maybe he didn’t need you as much as he thought— and that’s something he refuses to accept. In his eyes, that’s essentially accepting that you wouldn’t return.

~ Then again, the dreamscape wasn’t much better than reality. Sure, he could meet you in his dreams, but he was always aware that that’s all it was— a fantasy. It wasn’t actually you. It never would be.

~ So Belphie starts suffering from periods of insomnia followed by long periods of slumber exacerbated by the exhaustion of his insomnia. He’ll spend hours upon hours awake at the dead of night, waiting for you to walk back through those doors.

~ Then, he spends nearly days asleep in your bed, unable to be roused from his deep sleep— clinging on to the remnants of you left in your room. Nowadays, he can hardly sleep unless he’s surrounded by your scent— and even that’s slowly disappearing from your blankets and bedsheets. He’s afraid to think about what’ll happen when it does entirely disappear.

~ Some days, he holes away in his old room— a quiet sanctuary where you’d spend a night in with him. He never touched anything you left there. Your clothing and accessories that you left still remained in the same place— your blankets still a mess on your side of the pile of pillows you’d sleep in with him.

~ Every time he looks at the things you left— every time he thinks of you— he feels regret. He knows that it wasn’t your choice to leave, but did you stay away because of him? Did you truly never forgive him after all? Was experiencing a new timeline amplifying preexisting resentment you held toward him?

~ Was it his fault that you hadn’t come home?

~ The mere thought is enough for him to send him down an ugly spiral. Just like with Lilith— this is her situation all over again. Disappearing, not dead, but always somewhere out of reach. Somewhere away from him.

~ At a certain point, he’d close himself off from his brothers entirely. Beelzebub would be able to get through to him since they’re twins, but the rest of them would be effectively shut out. Nothing they did would soothe the pain caused by your absence.

~ It gets to the point where Belphie sheds tears in his sleep— haunted by nightmares of his past mixed with your present. He’s more lethargic than ever— his sleep constantly interrupted by visions of your death, rejection, and hatred— all of that mixed with reemerging visions of the things that happened to Lilith. Every time he startles awake, tears silently stream down his face.

~ His brothers can only watch, unable to do much more than offer support that Belphegor doesn’t even want.

~ They wonder how much longer Belphie will last. When you return… they hope it’ll be to a Belphegor that isn’t just a shell of his former self. They hope you’ll come home on time.

tags.

[4dbeingguide]

let’s talk about:

doubts.

thank you guys for all the love y’all gave my previous post! i have addressed this topic extensively in my previous posts but i feel like it is worth a post of its own. we all have doubts regardless of where you are in your manifestation journey. here is some advice on how to deal with them.

⚠️ disclaimer ⚠️: there is are no cure-all solutions for doubts other than the ones you discover yourself. blogs and manifestation tips can only make recommendations but you have to sit down with yourself and understand your own psyche so you can figure out what works for you. also please excuse any errors with my grammar lol

what are doubts?

“doubt: (a feeling of) not being certain about something, especially about how good or true it is.”

- cambridge dictionary

why do we experience doubts in LOA?

we’ve spent a good majority of our lives believing that the physical world/3D is independent of our minds. these beliefs tend to stick with us even when we learn that the opposite is the truth. however, it’s perfectly possible to flush them out or minimize them.

how do i deal with doubts?

depends on the doubt in question. let’s go over some the types of doubts you can get. please remember that some of your doubts might not appear over here and that’s perfectly fine. it’s still perfectly possible to defeat them. let’s get into it:

1. doubts about the legitimacy of LOA

in other words, “what if LOA isn’t real?”. there are multiple ways to deal with these doubts, it all comes down to whatever sticks with you the best.

the scientific way

if your doubts want scientific proof that the LOA is real, i have some links on this post that might help you. one of these has links that will take you to a bunch of scientific articles and books that prove the existence and legitimacy of LOA.

the spiritual way

some of us have a more spiritual outlook on life and that’s perfectly fine. many ancient spiritual practices practiced some form of LOA. a lot of research on these communities and their beliefs might help.

the anecdotal way

if your doubts want proof through experiences, reading success stories is an amazing way to start. @loasuccessarchive compiles many amazing success stories that might motivate you. but what i would recommend the most is starting a success story list of your own (and you can include stuff you haven’t seen in the 3D because you live in the 4D, i talk more about this in the post i linked above). your own experiences that you can verify are true will have a more powerful impression on you.

please remember that everybody has individual preferences even if they are not listed above!

2. doubts on whether you have your desire or not

i have addressed this in the post i linked so i’m just gonna give a quick summary. if you have it in the 4D, you have it. you are 4 dimensional and you live in the 4D, you just perceive it in 3 dimensions. don’t rely on the 3D for approval cause it’s an illusion. the 4D is real, the 3D isn’t. something can happen in the 3D but still not be true, that’s why revision exists. but if it happens in the 4D, it’s happened unless you change it.

3. doubts on whether you can manifest

this is different from number 1 in the sense that this doubt believes that everybody else (those people you see with the success stories) can manifest but you can’t. this is laughably false. if you weren’t able to manifest you wouldn’t be alive. the mind is reality and creates the illusion you perceive as the physical world, that is a constant. you are always manifesting. LOA is just you picking what to manifest (which is perfectly possible).

methods to use when dealing with doubts

1. research

- researching on why your doubts are false may greatly help you in defeating them.

2. rants & inner debates

- rants are basically just angry and aggressive talks one gives to their doubts. “STOP FUCKING CHECKING THE 3D!” can count. you don’t have to always use ranting especially when it doesn’t help but to each their own. if it works for you, have at it! just make sure to put your mental health first.

- inner debates on the other hand are calm and civilized talks with your doubts. it involves listening to your doubts (but not believing them) and debunk them in level headed manner. this may help people who want to get over their doubts through logic and reason.

3. the “i can doubt it all i want” method

- i use this all the time and think it’s very worth sharing. it involves telling yourself something to the effect of “i can doubt it all i want, (insert desire) is an objective fact”. think of your desire like a blue shirt you’re wearing for example. you can ask yourself “is the shirt really blue?” all you want but that won’t change the fact the shirt is blue.

4. the “as ______ is true, so is my desire” method

- this is pretty simple. it’s basically taking an objective fact you accept and applying that same attitude your desire. it goes something like this: “as the sky is blue right now, my SP loves me” for example.

5. reprioritization

- a lot of our doubts come from the belief that something is only valid if it happens in the 3D. those beliefs that make the 3D the top priority make you constantly rely on the 3D which can lead to checking and doubts. all you have to do is make the 4D your top priority/end goal since that’s where you live. you live in the 4D. the 3D doesn’t have shit to do with you.

conclusion

doubts are perfectly normal and there are multiple ways to get rid of them. please be patient and kind to yourself as you try to do so. wishing all of u the best 🫶

[xdjville]

wayv and their own love languages

pairing: wayv x gn!reader

cw: mentions of sex in winwin's (only in words, no descriptions), yangyang (half)jokingly being a hater in xiaojun's, proof read but i'm tired

author's note: i had to physically stop myself from getting carried away with kun's so it wouldn't end up twice as long as the others man i love him

#kun

quality time

if it wasn't for kun being so busy, he would literally be glued to you at the hip. only with you around he's able to truly relax, you're like a power outlet that he can use to charge his battery. what you're doing doesn't really matter to him that much, he will enjoy anything as long as you're there, but the slow, quiet moments when you're both in your own worlds have to be the ones he cherishes the most. of course, he loves going out with you and having a blast too, but something about those occasions brings him a sense of domesticity and really lets him unwind. like when you're both in his studio - him at the desk, composing or working on lyrics, while you're on the couch in the back with your laptop, focused on your own tasks, the silence being broken only the few times that kun asks about your opinion on whatever he came up with, or when you stand up to get a drink and place a kiss on his cheek as you walk by. or it could be him cooking dinner for the two of you, showing off his skills as you sit on the counter, humming quietly to his playlist playing in the background. every now and then he'd turn around to give you a piece of the food he's making for a taste test, repaying each good idea of how to improve the dish with a kiss.

#ten

thinking about you

ten is pretty much thinking about you every second that he's awake (and sometimes in his dreams, too), he's never not thinking about you. he often gets reminded of you by random things, whether because he thinks there's a visual resemblance (he then usually sends you a photo and a "you lol"), because it's something you like, or because it's somehow connected to a shared memory of yours. he brings you up in conversations a lot too, to the point where some of his friends seem to know you quite well without having actually met you. when he's travelling, he always takes many photos to send you along with voice messages about how his day went, and buys souvenirs or little trinkets to gift you when he's back. on the rare occasion when he's grocery shopping on his own, he makes it his mission to find all of your favorite snacks, which more often than not gets him distracted from the list you had put together for him, so you end up with a bunch of candy and no dinner (which is exactly why him shopping alone is a rare occurance). he also really likes putting together playlists with songs that remind him of you, some of them he'll send and give you access to, but there's also a few he made private which he listens to on days when the longing feels worse than usual.

#winwin

"i love you"

to most, it might seem like not that big of a deal, but to winwin those three words hold more meaning than all other existing ones combined. a meaning that's so important and valuable, binding even, that he uses them carefully and scarcelly in order to not abuse them. for most of his life they were reserved only for the closest family members, then, although in a different sense, also for his fans. saying them romantically for the first time was a whole new sesantion to him, and to be honest it still feels a bit foreign and uncomfortable. not because he doesn't love you, that he sure does and he makes sure to show that in other ways, but actually saying it out loud just makes him feel so bare and out in the open. hence his "i love you"s are usually muttered into the crook of your neck when you're pressed together after making love, breathed against your lips when he breaks the kiss only for a second so you can't see his face gaining more color than it already had, or whispered into your ear as he gently strokes the back of your head, your tears soaking into his sweater.

#xiaojun

sharing

xiaojun doesn't really do this purposefully, as a way to show his affection, it's just that the concept of "mine" and "yours" genuinely doesn't exist in his mind when it comes to you. want a bite of his food? it's yours as much as it's his. out of moisturiser? you probably use the same brand anyways. really like that one hoodie of his? might as well have been yours in the first place. he never expects the same behavior in return, he's totally fine if you value your privacy and he makes sure that you understand each other's boundaries, but he never lets go of that "what's mine is yours" mindset either way. xiaojun really enjoys showing you off ("shoving your relationship into people's faces", as one german boy likes to call it), so you wearing his clothes or jewelry is his absolute favorite thing ever. he then stares at you with heart-shaped, sparkly eyes, a wide, lovesick grin on his face, and the tips of his ears burning red (to the german boy's disgust).

#hendery

being vulnerable with you

very few people get to see the other side of hendery than the cheerful, quirky self that he usually is. the side that's exhausted and afraid, that pains and ugly cries. a lot of doors have to opened to reach it, but he trusts you more than anything and anyone, ever. he doesn't think he could be any more real and unfiltered as he is with you, it's almost like it's more comfortable than when he's all alone. when you're there, he can just let everything go and express his feelings in a way that's most true to himself, without faking or conceiling anything. all those nights he spent crying because of his past, present, and future, because of his fears and scars and sorrows, you've been there for him. and although in the morning when you're tangled in your sheets with puffy faces and dry skin either of you knows better than to mention whatever was said that night, he's truly, deeply grateful, and each time he makes a promise to himself that one day he'll tell you that.

#yangyang

kissing

yangyang's nothing if not a kiss person. it's his favorite thing in the whole world, to be able to just connect your lips until he forgets his own name because yours is all he can think about. little pecks, french kisses, make out sessions, spiderman kisses - you name it, he loves all of them and they're all his favorites, as long as it's you who's on the other end. you often try to push him away because you just ate something with garlic, or because you have yet to brush your teeth in the morning, but none of that really matters to him. in fact, he cherishes every sensation that comes with it, be it a taste of what you ate, the feeling of your dry lips when you forget to put on chapstick, or a string of saliva that keeps you connected after you pull away - god, that one makes him go weak in the knees. he especially likes when you take the initiative, it makes him feel loved and all warm inside (he would never admit that though). and if you lead the kiss, maybe a bit riled up from something happening at work or because you've missed him? oh, he's a goner.

#taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc

©xdjville

[hazelsmirrorball]

Rockstar Girlfriend VI. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader

Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other. 

Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Angst, Fight (not physical) Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language. 

a/n: I’m back after a while!! Sorry for being MIA. I don't know how to feel about this but I'm really thankful for all the support. Lots of new things coming soon. love you guys.

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five.

The tour was canceled. 

Everything Y/n had worked for went down the drain. Not only had she lost the tour she risked everything for, but she had lost her bandmates' trust. They were losing followers by the minute and receiving hate left and right. All that success she had gained because of Hazel was almost gone. 

The moment everyone found out about Hazel's outburst, the show was canceled with a blink of an eye. They could hear the cries and screams of fans outside. Y/n couldn’t bear to listen, she felt bad, guilty even. Management said that her band couldn’t perform because they were only the openers, so karma was biting her ass quickly.    

But after one show became two and then two became five, management canceled the whole tour, every single date. They claimed that they couldn’t do anything without Hazel, their star. Y/n tried to be positive that maybe Hazel was joking around and that she was going to come back but when management canceled the tour, her feet finally hit the floor. The tour was over before it even started. The hop of the wave of success both bands were having was cut short. The most anticipated tour of the year was canceled due to mental health issues from one of the band members. That was what got posted on the band's page and every news article. 

But Hazel made it her job for people to know that, that wasn’t the case. If the tour was canceled she wanted people to know the real reason, no more tricks, no more lies and no more fake love. Y/n felt her heart stop when her phone started to blow up with notifications and her eyes landed on a video Hazel had posted on instagram after being MIA for two weeks. 

That was when “Mean” was born. 

“Hi guys! I know I’ve been gone for a while and all of a sudden the tour got canceled. But I’m here to tell you guys that we are currently working to get your back running again. This time we decided it was best to get new openers. Anyways, on my little break I decided to write this song I really hope you guys enjoy!” Hazel said to the camera starting to strum her guitar. Y/n felt her heart drop every second that passed by. If she was already losing everything with a blink of an eye it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if what was left of her career ended just because of that song. 

hazel.callahan via instagram

liked by bottomstheband, y/nnn, and others

hazel.callahan rehearsals for tour are the shit! I missed this a lot, can't wait for tour to start <3

view all 1,550 comments

hazelsbottoms she's backkkkkkkk

user101 mother is back, hope tour doesn't get cancelled this time.

pjandhazeparis sorry to disappoint but I'll be a groupie for life

bottomsupdates why is y/n lurking in the likes? hasn't she done enough

| ynloveshazel please leave y/n alone

| bottomsupdates she's the one lurking her comments

Hazel had uploaded an acoustic version of a song she had written through her break in an attempt for people to understand what she was going through. It was something new, different from the songs she was used to writing for herself and other people. The song quickly took the world by storm gaining everyone’s attention. Fans had caught up quickly with who the song was written for, making it their job to make Y/n’s life a living hell. Her band's account was barely existent by the minute and management was going insane.

Y/n couldn’t let things slide. She had three options, let her pr team do everything for her, clap back and deny the allegations, or attempt to do a song just like Hazel did. The thing was, Y/n was already used to Hazel’s constant help writing songs and honestly she kinda missed spending midnights with her writing songs. She missed how Hazel would slowly touch her skin in an attempt to get her attention or how she got lost in her blue eyes while she tried to explain the chorus of the song. Y/n missed Hazel. She hated herself for running things with her. Things were finally different, this time Y/n didn’t hate Hazel, Hazel just hated Y/n. 

She was going to make things right, possibly ending her career. But it was worth it. If Hazel heard the song, she could lose everything and she wouldn’t care. 

Y/n propped her camera hitting record while sitting in front of it, letting out a sigh. She slowly strummed the guitar she barely knew how to play but all she could think of was all the times Hazel had attempted to teach her how to play it.

“This song is for someone special in my life that I treated so badly. I know I fucked up and I wished I could go back to december, they day I met you and start all over”

y/n's instagram

liked by bottomstheband, ynnnn, and others

y/nnn but if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right

comments have been deactivated

Y/nnn let out a sigh as she looked at her phone flooding with notifications. At least if she was gone for social media, she was certain Hazel had heard the song. Maybe she could get another chance or another life where they could get together with no mistakes.  Y/n’s thoughts got interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. She quickly walked towards it, ready to face her neighbor. But she felt her heart drop when she noticed the familiar blue eyes she had fallen in love with. Y/n’s eyes wandered all over her trying to tell if she was real or an act of her imagination due to the lack of sleep. But as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew it was all reality. 

“My guitar.” Hazel replied, playing with her feet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her confused. 

“What do you mean, my guitar? How do you know where I live?” Y/n responded leaning against the doorframe trying to get a better look at Hazel. 

“My guitar. You have my lucky guitar, I saw it in the video you posted. Now, can you please give it back” 

“No.”

“What do you mean no? It’s mine, L/n.”

“You don’t speak to me, drop a diss track on my name and expect me to give you back you guitar” Y/n exclaimed while looking at Hazel with a surprised look on her face. 

“Are you insane? You do know that all of this is not my fault, right? I was willing to do anything for you but you preferred the fame over me. You fucked up your own career and you fucked up with me. Yet, I came here, to your apartment and you still want to act like the victim instead of saying your sorry. You know what stays with the stupid guitar. I don’t want it anyway. You want to play a game that I’m really tired of playing. I really don't understand why are you like this.” Hazel exclaimed loudly pulling on her hairs.

"I like you Hazel and I'm like this because I know I screwed up the only good thing in my life" Y/n said loudly leaving Hazel with her mouth wide open not knowing what say.

At least he got the chance he desperately needed.  

thank you for reading

previous part.

[multbasa]

If you've gotten a game early illegally, then don't post about it online.

Not only is it annoying for people who are waiting until the official release to see leaks and spoilers, it puts emulators at risk as what happened to Yuzu.

Emulation is built on shaky legal ground and it continues to exist because of legal arguments such as aging hardware and software are no longer supported or sold by the company that produced them. This argument doesn't exist for new or unreleased hardware or software which is why Nintendo absolutely nuked Yuzu from orbit because they were profiting off of an unreleased brand new title, sharing the ROMs on Discord and selling an updated version of the emulator specifically to pirate that new game.

The bottom line is:

Stop giving companies legal grounds to sue emulation developers

Emulation is great for preserving old games because the official hardware and physical software breaks down over time. I WANT emulation to exist so I have the ability to continue to play old games that I loved, but people who pirate new games and especially unreleased games put emulation at risk. They paint a target on the back of emulation and give large companies like Nintendo legal grounds to attack that emulator.

Got a game early? Pirating it through an emulator? Keep your mouth shut.

I don't care how much you hate Nintendo or any other company, you're just shooting yourself in the foot by drawing their attention to things that are barely considered legal.

There used to be a ROM site for DS games which Nintendo got taken down because they were using Nintendo's official artwork on the site. Yuzu was profiting off of pirating TotK before it even released and all the kiddies online were bragging and making shots at Nintendo before Nintendo sued the Yuzu team for millions and even had their other DS emulator shut down by association.

Why don't people fight Nintendo in court instead of settle? Because Nintendo had legal grounds to sue and legitimate proof of damages and profit by Yuzu. Not to mention the lawsuit would have put emulation in a worse legal position if Nintendo won and they likely would have won in that case.

People are so short-minded and ignorant these days that they have no idea how anything works yet they continue to poke the bear. You can't hide behind the legal argument that emulation preserves old software that companies no longer produce while also bragging about pirating games from day one or earlier.

Suck up the arrogance and go incognito. It's better for the community who haven't gotten to play the game yet, and it's better for the emulation scene because companies like Nintendo will have less concrete grounds to sue.

Also don't publicly boast about pirating in Discord chats especially if you're part of an emulation team. They're not private. I can't believe people these days don't understand that. Very few places online are truly private if there are any at all, so don't incriminate yourself. Don't profit off of new or unreleased software especially so publicly, and get off the high horse, it is made of hay and twigs and can barely stand upright.

[eamour]

the cycle of waiting.

one of the most common reasons to why people fail to manifest their desires isn’t necessarily because they fail to "manifest it correctly" but because they don’t even start to assume a new reality for themselves.

waiting for the change.

the question is, why do people wait so long to take mental action? scarcity is a reason most are familiar with. being afraid to make a move towards your desire especially when the possibility of failure exists. some feel insecure or overwhelmed and don't think they are mentally prepared for big changes. some feel uncertain about what they really want. some are used to their current circumstances, they refuse to get uncomfortable and would rather endure unpleasant feelings. and some have limiting beliefs hindering them from fully realising their potential.

depending on the outside.

you don't need your desires in physical form in order to feel its associated feelings. you don't need proof of it. not only because you long for the FEELING of having your desire and not your desire itself, but because the 3D could never change on its own. the 3D looks at you for validation, and not the other way round. you are the only evidence you need and your imagination has always been the validation for everything in your life. you are self sabotaging yourself if you rely on changes from without and built your faith upon things you can perceive with your senses. this way, you will keep letting the outer world define how much you can have within yourself.

conditioning your desires.

if you keep waiting for the world to change so you have an "excuse", a "permission" or a "reason" to finally change as well, you will be stuck in a cycle that will constantly repeat itself as you will remain as you are. if you won't take action from within, you will forever remain in a state of stagnation, feeling unsatisfied with the way life turns out to be. additionally, waiting for outer movement can also be a form of conditioning your desires.

stop wasting time.

stop waiting and living in desire. realise that imagination is the only reality and allow yourself to give yourself your desires. don't expect to be saved when you can be your only saviour. and remember, you can't change what's inside with what's outside. only if you, from WITHIN, are willing to change, you can alter the physical.

change now.

so, what are you waiting for? why not feel the way you would want to feel? why not feel beautiful, loved, successful, healthy, intelligent and wealthy? why not start today? there is no reason for why you should deny yourself to feel these feelings. don't hold back, don't resist and no longer hesitate to finally fulfill yourself, rather than expecting the 3D to change on its own (which it can't, never did and never will).

it's important that you always keep in mind that you don't change once your 3D changes. you only really change if you change from within, not from without.

with love, ella.