#but it's something i really don't mind talking about :>

[submattsmxmmy]

roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, degradation/praise, dirty talk, thigh riding, unprotected sex, dick riding

🖤 summary: 🖤 when you find out that chris has a date, you find yourself getting incredibly jealous, so you do everything you can to keep him from going

hiiii it's @ariestrxsh ! this is my second account. if you're not into the whole stepcest thing, do not read further ! if you're my mom, god, or chris sturniolo, do not read further !

dividers by: @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

"Holy shit. You actually look nice for once!" You jeered at the rare sight of your stepbrother in a long-sleeved black button-down and matching slacks as you walked past him room. "Yeah, don't get used to it," Chris retorted back, cuffing his sleeves. Your gaze lingered on his long, thin fingers and the prominent veins in his hands as he adjusted his tie, tightening it around his neck.

"Where are you going?" You wondered, leaning up against his doorframe in a white tank top and silky pajama bottoms. You couldn't take your eyes off him, warmth pooling between your thighs. You'd never seen him get dressed up like this, and the two of you had been to a funeral together.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Chris smirked, dodging your question as he peered at his reflection in the mirror. "What are you being so secretive for? Just tell me," you replied, taking a few steps closer to him. He ignored you.

You caught a whiff of something that had notes of cedar and some kind of spice you vaguely recognized. You tugged on his black tie to pull him closer to you, pressing your nose up against his collar. "Chris. Are you wearing cologne?" You asked him, furrowing your brow. It really wasn't like him to put any effort into his appearance, never mind his scent.

"I'm going on a date, alright? Now, can you scram and let me finish getting ready?" Chris waved you away, smoothing out his tie. "So, when you fuck me, you wear your sweaty shirt you played basketball in, and when you're trying to fuck another girl, you get dressed up all nice, huh?" You sneered, shoving him. There was a bit of real anger behind it.

"Woah. Who said anything about me fucking her? This is our first date," Chris told you, defensively throwing up his arms. "So, you're going on a date, and you don't even know if you're gonna get laid!?" You asked, raising your voice.

You didn't know what hurt worse - the idea of Chris fucking another woman or the idea of him going on a romantic date with another woman. You felt your heart sink as you imagined him holding the door open for her, paying for her dinner, and kissing her goodnight.

"C'mon. Don't get all weird on me," Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. "Do I know her?" You asked, crossing your arms and praying that the answer was no. His lips curled into a shit-eating grin, "maybe."

"Chris. Please. Answer me. Do I know her? Please tell me it isn't one of my friends," you whined, tugging on his sleeve and begging for answers. "Don't worry about it, huh? What's it matter if you know her or not? What do you care?" He snarked back, knowing his vague answers were driving you crazy.

"Chris.. don't go," you begged, pushing him onto his bed and climbing on top of him to straddle his thigh. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you before my date?" He smirked at you as you started to loosen his tie. "Not before. Instead of," you giggled, starting to unbutton his dress shirt.

"You're such a little fuckin' slut. You know that? What am I supposed to tell my date when I show up late to pick her up? That I needed to give my stepsister some first?" Chris snarled at you, grabbing your hands to keep you from tugging at his buttons.

"Tell her you can't make it tonight. Please, please, please," you whispered, taking his earlobe between your teeth and gently nibbling on it as you rolled your hips forward, grinding against his leg. "Don't go. I need you."

Your begging sent blood rushing below Chris' waist. It was getting harder and harder for him to resist you. He peered over your shoulder at the reflection of you two in his full-length mirror. "I've gotta leave soon. You can't do this to me right now," Chris protested, but he was smiling to himself, watching the way your ass poked out of the bottom of your silky shorts.

You could feel his cock growing hard beneath you and beginning to struggle against the tight black fabric. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" You purred, pulling your tank top off over your head. His eyes dropped to your breasts, his expression softening as he admired them.

"I have to leav-" Chris repeated, but you cut him off, pressing your lips against his, your tongue begging for entrance into his mouth as you rubbed up against his leg like a dog in heat, your drooling cunt soaking through your shorts. "You don't get to put on this sexy outfit and tease me, and then go fuck some other bitch," you whined into his mouth, your voice laced with envy.

"You're so hot when you're jealous," he whispered to you. "I'm not jealous," you denied his accusation. "Mhmm," he hummed in a dismissive tone that let you know he didn't believe you one bit.

You unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, placing your palms against his chest and feeling his heart thump away at a faster pace. "You're actin' like such a slut right now. Really need it that bad, huh?" Chris muttered under his breath, starting to slip his arms out of his button up. "No. The tie and the shirt stay on," you replied, stopping him from taking his clothes off the rest of the way.

He smirked and let out a small chuckle. "What? Y'like the way I look in a suit?" He wondered aloud, moving his hands to your waist. "I fucking love it. You have no idea how much it's turning me on right now," you whispered into his ear before you started trailing kisses down his jawline towards his neck, your hands lingering on his rapidly rising and falling chest as you continued grinding against him.

"Fuck. You're ruining my slacks, ya little slut," Chris growled, staring down at the wet spot you left on his thigh from riding it. "What are you gonna do about it?" You cooed, giving him a cheeky smile as you grabbed his bulge that was straining against them.

"I'm gonna fuck you senseless. You're practically beggin' for it. Take these fuckin' things off," Chris rasped, looking intensely into your eyes and tugging at the waistband of your shorts. You stood up and slipped out of the last of your clothing.

Chris watched in awe, pulling his aching cock out of his pants as your panties fell to the floor around your ankles before you stepped out of them. "C'mon. Come ride your stepbrother's cock," Chris demanded, stroking himself as he smirked at you and getting himself fully hard. You watched the way his hand pumped over his swollen tip, a bit of precum pooling at his slit.

"You're so fucking disgusting," you replied, climbing on top of him to straddle him again. "You're the disgusting one," Chris started to say as he lined himself up with your entrance, "because I think you fuckin' like it when I say shit like tha - oh my god," he groaned as your pussy engulfed his tip.

And you did. You couldn't get enough of the way Chris talked to you - degrading you, telling you what to do, reminding you that he was your stepmom's son. You loved how wrong it all was, and so did he.

He let out a relieved sigh as you slid down his length, watching the way it disappeared into you in the reflection. He admired the way you started to arch your back as your walls fluttered around him, stretching around him and sucking him in.

His hands traveled to your tits, his thumbs brushing against your stiffening nipples before he pinched them. You squealed in delight. He leaned in, taking your supple breast into his mouth as his blue eyes stared up at you. "Oh, Chris. Feels so good," you moaned, tossing your head back as his tongue flitted around on your sensitive nipples, suckling on them.

You grabbed onto his tie to stabilize yourself as you started bouncing up and down on him. He let out a guttural moan with your tit still in his mouth, the vibrations of his pink lips adding to the sensation. The two of you were already panting, fucked out expressions on each of your faces as you both chased your sweet relief.

He released your tit from his mouth with a small pop from all the suction he'd created. Chris' hands slowly slithered down the small of your back, wandering to your ass as he watched it jiggle in the mirror every time you came down on his cock with all of your body weight. His fingertips gently glided over your warm skin, making you shudder under his touch.

"Filthy little slut. Ya take it so fuckin' well," he growled as he delivered a harsh smack on your left cheek while you were riding him, causing you to arch your back again and call his name out in pleasure. He loved how reactive you were. He delivered another powerful slap. And another.

His hands firmly gripped your ass, and he started bouncing you up and down on his length a little faster. You could feel every vein, every ridge, and every subtle twitch of his perfect cock as he drove it in and out of you.

His glazed over blue eyes were locked on yours, his brows pinched together, and his pouty lips parted in a look of pure ecstasy. You started to exaggerate the movement of your hips, massaging his cock with your velvety walls. "Fuck," he moaned in satisfaction as you rhythmically grinded on him.

Your knees were growing weak, and your quads were aching, but the way Chris looked at you, his expression saturated in pleasure with a slight look of desperation in his eyes, motivated you to keep going. "Good girl.. don't stop.." He whispered, his gaze locked on yours.

He reached up and gently caressed your face, the pad of his thumb making slow circles on your cheek before he brushed up against your bottom lip. "So fuckin' pretty when you're on the edge like that," Chris purred, recognizing how close you were getting.

You parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth. Chris let out a soft moan as he felt your tongue swirl around it, pushing it in further. You sucked on his thumb for a few minutes, sending waves of pleasure through his body and straight to his cock.

Chris slipped his thumb out of your mouth and gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place while he pounded into you from beneath you. "Chris," you hissed through your teeth as he slammed into your cervix over and over, bottoming out in you and bringing you each closer to the edge as you slumped into him.

"Can't.. take it.. gonna cum," you whimpered, clenching your thighs around his waist as the knot in your stomach threatened to snap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your nails into his back through his black button up as you bit down on his shoulder. "I love having such a slut for a stepsister," he cooed into your ear. "Gonna cum for me like the little slut you are?"

"Oh, my god! Chris!" You practically shouted, your whole body trembling. The two of you finished in unison, your cunt clenching around his throbbing cock, milking him for all he was worth as he pumped you full of his load. He peered into the mirror as you coated his cock in your fluids, watching the way the mixture dripped down his shaft.

You threw your head back again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your whole body tightened. Your orgasm hit you like a series of cascading waves, nearly knocking you down and pulling you into the undertow. Dopamine coursed through your body, pleasure flooding your system as you climaxed.

As you came down, your riding slowed to a halt. Chris breathlessly chuckled into your ear, helping you off of him. As you stood to your feet, your knees wobbling, his cum spilled out of you and dribbled onto his spent cock and the crotch of his slacks. "Shit," he whispered, peering down at the mess as he reached for a dirty shirt to clean it up with.

"Oops. I guess you can't wear these on your date tonight after all," you smugly stated, pulling your shorts and your tank top back on as you glanced down at the cum stain on the front. "I'm not going on a date," Chris responded, tucking himself away and rising to his feet.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for agreeing to stay home with me," you replied, refusing to loosen your grip on him. "No, I mean. There never was a date to begin with," he admitted, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth.

"What!?" You asked, releasing him from your grasp as you glared at him. "I lied. I just wanted to see your reaction if you thought I was going on a date. You like me," he accused you, narrowing his perfect blue eyes at you.

"What? No, I don't. You're just a good lay. That's all," you nonchalantly shrugged, rolling your eyes. "You were begging me not to go. I don't think I've ever seen you so desperate," he teased you. "Fuck you," you snarled, pressing your finger firmly into his chest. "You're fucked up for playing with my feelings like that."

"And you're fucked up for begging your stepbrother to fuck you," he smugly responded, raising an eyebrow and grinning devilishly at you. "Fuck, if I had any idea how you'd react, I would've put that stupid suit on sooner."

[worrywrite]

This is something that speaks to the real and correct way to talk to people of opposing political stands as you. It is never about facts, it is never about studies and what we know, I is never about science, and it is never about God. What it always boils down to is values.

You need to distill down your beliefs into a set of core values and examine what those values mean in regards to your political stance. For instance, you need to asses whether you actually value the lives and experiences of other people, if you value life, if you value equality and equity, and so on. And when someone says something like "I don't know how you can call yourself ____ and vote ____" you need to figure out what it is they value in order to respond. And even more so, you need them to figure out what it is they value, because they usually don't want to say it if they know.

If someone says "how can you call yourself Christian and vote for the party if the gays" (which is a real thing I've heard) a good response might be "I value human life, and gay people are human, and I think they should be alive." And this is a good response because it is simple, straightforward, and if someone challenges it they are automatically facing a very core value to modern civilization. Life is valuable.

And if someone were to to the above statement, you should try and assess where that sentiment is coming from. Usually, it comes from an angle of learned hate that they don't fully understand. Most people are secondhand vectors of hate, at least, sometimes they're even further down the line. Many people don't know what they repeat the talking points they do, they just repeat them because other people who they morally align themselves use those talking points. So when they conflate Christianity with hating gay people, they're saying something about their values. Typically they're repeating these things because they value their standing among their peers, they value their purity in regards to their faith, and they value law over life. The first two are fairly self explanatory, but the last one is the big problem. Law over life is a value expressed by many Americans, they want to trust that the systems they support--whether it be a specific group in the government, the criminal justice system, their church, religion in general, etc.--have the greater good in mind whenever they do anything. This idea of a greater good, a good that supercedes the individual desires and wants and needs, is something they trust other people to decide without really questioning if those other people care. They believe that law, the enforcement of principles by those chosen to carry out the greater good, can supercede the value of any individual life. But they fall short of considering that they are an individual, they have a life that can be undervalued and eliminated or exploited.

And there are even a subset that have thought of this and insist that they wouldn't care if they were killed or similarly ruined by a force for the greater good--after all it would still be a good outcome. And, frankly, I don't know how to respond to those people. I don't know how you can express a value to them that they care about which might supercede their nihilistic viewpoint. If they genuinely think that their death or the death of literally any one person is sufficient to provide the happiness of many more people, I don't know how to express to them that their values undermine the value of life itself.

And it's tricky, because valuing life isn't always the answer. We often feel comfortable drawing lines around who and what we think deserves to exist. There are, indeed, times when the greater good must be considered, but we cannot let the greater good become a default position. Violence which supercedes the right to life (whether that means death or slavery or another condition) should only be considered as a last resort, not the rule of law.

The trickiest part is that they can respond with, "well that's your opinion." And, in truth, they're right. There's no universally acknowledged and objective answer to the question "what is valuable?" Likewise "good" and "morally correct" can be ambiguous at their hearts. And the pitfalls that arise from trying to find these things is where many of us become truly divided. It is also why many I use choose not to look for answers ourselves and instead choose to trust that others have found them.

So when you talk to someone with different values than you, consider what those values actually are and communicate with them based on those values. Look for common values, things you share, and build on those. Ask them whether they also value those things and what valuing those things means to them and why. And once that why has been answered you will know whether that person is someone worth talking to at all.

Might I give some advice:

Not everyone has (or needs to have) the energy to thoughtfully respond to republicans on the Internet. You do not have to do that.

But some people do, and can. And I think we gotta let them.

An example:

I have a former teacher, I'll call her Grace, who is an incredibly kind woman in her 70s. Devout catholic, had voted for various parties over the years, but has been pretty strictly democrat over the past 15-20 because that aligns with her values of kindness and service.

She shared a post about the pope's recent letter and expressed that she agreed with his concerns about how trump is treating immigrants. A friend of hers commented a long paragraph basically saying "dear Grace I care for you but I don't understand how you can be a Christian and a democrat. Blah blah abortion blah blah gender blah blah drugs."

Grace replied "I'm very busy right now but I am going to respond to you soon with my thoughts". When she did it was an incredibly generous, rational monologue that connected with this person's humanity, their shared religious values, and made a beautiful case for why she supports who she does. I didn't agree with a good half of what she said as I am not a Christian, but the result was an expression of values that I think put her on the side of justice and compassion.

The person replied and thanked her and said she had a lot to think about. It was probably the best case scenario for a Facebook politics conversation

You know what came very close to ruining it? A bunch of (mostly younger) people piling on with "fuck you you racist maga pos" and "no one has to explain anything to you, go to hell" etc etc. Even after Grace wrote that she intended to reply herself.

I watched this republican respond to all the easy, quick insults by saying "this is why I don't think any democrats can be Christian, this is how you all speak to me." If Grace hadn't put so much work into writing her response in a way that was tailored to fit this person, I would not be surprised if that person left Facebook doubly certain that Christian nationalism is the way to go.

I'm not saying we can't cuss out jackasses. I'm not saying everyone needs to respond to bad faith arguments like Grace did or use their time like she did.

But this was on Grace's Facebook page, and interrupted the work she already volunteered to do. Just so these individuals could feel like they "did something" and got a shot off at an enemy.

I think that's selfish and childish and unproductive. They could have said anything they wanted in their own space, but they made grace's job harder for no fuckin reason. And then "loved" her reply and said "that was beautiful Grace, thank you for sharing your thoughts"

Like... Buddies. Pals. If someone volunteers to scrub the toilet fucking let them.

[littelovelunette]

Ok PLEASE hear me out but Sevika x reader where Sevika does something really fucked up but she doesn't realize how bad it was and thinks reader is just ignoring her because she's being dramatic and bcs they're both stubborn they don't talk for weeks until Sevika is sick of it and rants to Ran probably and she tells sev like "dude.. you fucked up bad bro" and since Sevika is just so desperate for r's attention she does the most dramatic apology every with flowers, all of r's fav stuff, probably even a hose Ran insisted on holding to make it look like she's in the rain (r notices and says hi to Ran) but um yk if you'd like ofc

Messy But She Tries

Contains angst

Toxic!Sevika x Fem!Reader

The night Sevika betrayed you was the night she proved she didn’t trust you.

It had started with an accusation—one she hadn’t even given you the dignity of hearing first.

Instead, you had walked into The Last Drop to find her sitting at a corner table, drink in hand, watching you like a predator waiting for you to step into the trap.

Her grey eyes had that cold, assessing gleam, the one she used when she was deciding whether or not to throw a punch.

“You got something you want to tell me?” she asked, low and even, but something in her tone made the hair on your arms rise.

“What?” you frowned, stepping closer.

She exhaled, shaking her head like she was disappointed.

“Word is, you’ve been talking to the wrong people. Piltover types. Enforcers.”

You froze. “What?”

Sevika leaned forward, flexing the fingers of her mechanical arm. “Funny, right? ‘Cause I could’ve sworn you weren’t that fucking stupid. But here we are.”

Your stomach turned. “You think I’d—”

“I think you’re gonna tell me the truth before I have to make you.”

And that was the moment. The moment you realized she had already made up her mind.

She wasn’t asking. She wasn’t looking for clarity. She had set a test, and in her mind, you had already failed.

It didn’t matter that you had never even looked at an Enforcer, let alone spoken to one. It didn’t matter that you had stayed at her side, through every close call, every late night, every fucking wound you’d patched up after her fights.

None of it mattered.

“Wow,” you laughed, but it wasn’t funny. It was hollow. Bitter. “So this is what you think of me?”

Sevika didn’t flinch. “I think I need to be careful about who I trust.”

You clenched your jaw. You could see it in her face—the way she was already shutting down, closing herself off like this was just another job.

Another problem she had to eliminate.

“Then don’t,” you said, your voice quiet. “If you think so little of me, don’t trust me. But just so you know, you can take all those allegations of me, stick them up where the sun don't shine. I am done.”

For a second, just a second, you thought she might say something else. That she might take it back. But instead, she picked up her drink and took another slow sip, watching you over the rim.

Cold. Detached. Like she didn’t care.

Like you didn’t matter.

You walked out.

And she let you.

The first few days were the worst.

You kept expecting her to show up. To stop by your place, lean in the doorway with that cocky smirk, and say something half-assed that wasn’t quite an apology but was close enough to mean she wanted things to be okay.

But she never came.

You used to complain about how she smelled like cigar smoke and metal, how her body heat was too much sometimes—but now?

Now the bed felt too big. Too empty.

And she?

She was fine.

“Shit,” Sevika muttered under her breath, slamming her glass onto the bar.

“You’re in a mood tonight,” Ran drawled from her spot beside her. She leaned back, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “Let me guess. This have anything to do with that poor girl you ran off a few weeks ago?”

Sevika exhaled sharply through her nose. “Not talking about it.”

“Uh-huh.” Ran took a slow sip of her drink. “Funny, ‘cause you sure as hell won’t shut up about not talking about it.”

Sevika shot her a glare, but Ran just grinned.

"Look, I'm sick of ignoring her," Sevika finally admitted, rolling her drink between her fingers. “But I’m not crawling back, either.”

Ran snorted. “Dumbass, that’s exactly what you need to do.”

Sevika scowled.

“You accused her of snitching,” Ran reminded her, as if she needed the fucking recap.

“Your GIRLFRIEND! The one who’s had your back since day one. And then, instead of fixing it, you let her walk away. So yeah, sweetheart, if you want her back, you ARE crawling. And you’re gonna do it big.”

Sevika groaned, rubbing her face. “I don’t do ‘big gestures.’”

Ran leaned in, smirking. “Then I guess you won't get her back.”

“…What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Ran grinned. “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.”

When you heard the doorbell ring, you hadn't expected to see Sevika standing on the other side of the door. But you didn't open the door. Instead, you asked from the other side.

“What do you want?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest.

“Open the door,” Sevika said, voice calculated and calm.

“Can you just fuck off already?” you hissed venomously.

“Not unless you hear me out,” Sevika said, her voice now had an undertone of plea, you could hear that she was genuine so you reluctantly opened the door.

You froze when you saw Sevika holding a fat bouquet of your favourite flowers, they looked so fresh and almost heavenly.

“I'm sorry?” Sevika held up the bouquet alongside a huge box of your favourite chocolates, a few shopping bags were dangling from her wrist.

The biggest grin broke on your lips, you giggled, “This is all for me?”

“Mhm,” Sevika gave you the bouquet which you took a whiff of.

“Fresh,” you smiled up at her, “Thank you,” you said shyly before you frowned a little seeing the sprinkles of water as if it was raining.

You squinted over Sevika's shoulder seeing Ran standing in a distance, she was holding a hose of water towards the sky. Ran waved.

You laughed softly, waving back.

“Does that mean I'm forgiven?” Sevika grumbled.

“Of course,” you hugged her which she gladly returned.

[be4chywritez]

never grow up | hughes bro.

hughes bros. x sister!reader

your brothers don't want to let you grow up.

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

warning: completely fucked up timeline

The living room is a mess of wrapping paper and half-eaten cupcakes, remnants of what your mom swore would be a “small graduation party” but somehow turned into a full-blown celebration. You’re still holding onto a stuffed bear in a tiny cap and gown, a joke gift from Ellen, but Quinn keeps side-eyeing it like he’s considering stealing it just to make a point.

Luke is lounging on the couch, flipping through your high school yearbook with a growing look of horror. “Dude,” he mutters, nudging Jack. “She has, like, a whole section in here. How do we not know about half of these people?”

Jack takes the book and immediately flips to the senior superlatives. “Oh my god,” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Please tell me you didn’t get ‘Most Likely to Break Hearts’—I don’t think I can handle that.”

You snatch the yearbook out of his hands and smack him lightly with it. “Relax. It’s ‘Most Likely to Brighten Your Day.’”

Quinn, who’s been suspiciously quiet, speaks up from the kitchen. “Yeah, well. That’s worse.”

You roll your eyes. “How is that worse?”

“Because it means people are gonna miss you,” Quinn says simply, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you pause. Like the realization is just sinking in for him, too.

And that’s when it hits you—this is your last summer before everything changes.

It starts when you casually mention that you’re making a packing list.

“I mean, I don’t need to bring everything,” you say, folding a t-shirt as Quinn watches from the doorway. “I’ll be home for breaks anyway.”

Quinn’s arms are crossed, his face unreadable. “Right,” he says flatly. “Because you’ll totally want to come back to Michigan instead of spending breaks with your college friends.”

You glance up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs, but the tension in his shoulders is obvious. “Just that once you’re gone, you’re gone.”

Before you can argue, Jack yells from down the hall, “Why do you even need a list? Just bring what you have now. Do they not have Target where you’re going?”

You groan. “Jack—”

“I mean, really,” he continues, appearing in the doorway. “What could you possibly need that isn’t already in this house?”

Luke suddenly pops his head in too, pointing at you. “And if you think you’re taking the good blanket from the living room, you’re out of your mind.”

You throw a sock at him. “I bought that blanket!”

Jim, who’s been passing by, doubles back and frowns. “Wait, wait—who said you were taking anything from the house?”

You stare at him. “Uh… me?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, well, maybe I decide what leaves this house, and maybe my decision is that you stay.”

Jack smirks. “Yeah, Dad. Ground her.”

Jim actually pauses, rubbing his chin like he’s considering it. “You know what? If she can’t leave, then problem solved.”

“Oh my god.”

It happens at the dinner table.

Tension has been simmering all summer, but tonight, it boils over.

Jack is picking at his food, Luke is sulking, and Quinn has barely said a word. Jim, trying to keep the mood light, asks a simple question:

“So, kid, excited for move-in day?”

The room freezes.

You swallow, already bracing yourself for the inevitable.

Quinn drops his fork. “Oh, great. Let’s talk about it.”

“Quinn—”

“No, really,” he cuts you off. “Let’s talk about how you’re leaving and we all just have to deal with it.”

Jack scoffs. “We’re allowed to be upset.”

“Yeah,” Luke mumbles. “It sucks.”

Something inside you snaps.

“Oh, it sucks?” you echo, voice sharp. “That’s funny—because I don’t remember any of you feeling bad when you left me.”

Silence.

Quinn’s brows knit together. “What?”

You shove yourself back, your back now flat on the chair. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. Did you all forget how this works? You left first, Quinn. You packed up and went to Vancouver. Jack, you left right after, and then Luke followed.”

Jack opens his mouth, but you steamroll right over him.

“And guess what? Nobody asked me if I was okay with it,” you continue. “Nobody sat me down and said, ‘Hey, we’re all leaving, but we know it’s going to be hard on you.’ No. You guys left, and I was just supposed to be fine.”

Luke shifts uncomfortably. “That’s… different.”

“Oh, is it?” you snap. “Because it sure feels the same.”

They all look guilty now.

Jim exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “She’s got a point, boys.”

The weight of your words settles over the room, thick and suffocating.

You cross your arms. “So don’t sit here acting like I’m the bad guy for growing up. I learned it from you.”

And just like that, dinner is over.

Ellen has been quiet throughout dinner, letting the boys sulk and stew in their feelings. But when you throw down the ultimate truth bomb, she puts her fork down with a soft clink and just leans back in her chair, watching.

Jack shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. “Mom—”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me,” Ellen says, taking a sip of wine. “She’s right.”

The boys look at her like she’s just committed some deep betrayal.

“But—” Luke tries.

Ellen raises a hand. “No. You don’t get to ‘but’ this. You all left her. And now that it’s her turn, you’re acting like she’s the one abandoning you.”

Quinn frowns at his plate. Jack rubs the back of his neck. Luke suddenly finds his drink very interesting.

Ellen sighs, a little softer now. “I get it. You love your sister, and you’re gonna miss her. But she’s not a little kid anymore.” She glances at you, giving you a small, knowing smile. “And you’re allowed to grow up, sweetheart.”

That’s when you feel the lump in your throat.

Jim, sensing the emotion rising again, claps his hands together. “Alright,” he says, standing up. “Dinner’s over. Boys, you will apologize when you’re ready. And if anyone else gets dramatic at the dinner table, I’m making you all sit at the kids' table for the rest of the summer.”

Jack huffs. “We don’t have a kids' table.”

Jim raises an eyebrow. “I will build one.”

Ellen just shakes her head, standing to start clearing plates. As she passes by you, she squeezes your shoulder gently—just enough to let you know she’s on your side.

Quinn was six, Jack was four, and Luke was two when Ellen and Jim walked through the front door with you bundled up in a tiny blanket.

Luke was still clumsy on his feet, gripping Quinn’s hand for balance as he stared at you with big, round eyes. Jack, ever the loud one, scrunched his nose. “She’s small.”

Quinn, the oldest, tilted his head. “How old is she?”

Ellen smiled, adjusting the beanie on your head. “Just a little younger than Luke.”

Jack frowned. “So she’s the baby?”

Jim nodded. “Yep. You’ve got a baby sister now.”

Quinn blinked at you, something protective already settling in his chest. “She looks squishy.”

Luke let out a little giggle, wobbling closer. His chubby hands reached out, poking at your cheek. Your tiny hand curled instinctively around his finger, and his face lit up like Christmas morning.

Jack, still suspicious, leaned in. “Where’d she come from?”

Ellen smoothed a hand over your head. “From a different family. But now she’s ours.”

Jack looked at Quinn, then back at you. “Do we have to keep her?”

Quinn smacked his arm. “Mom said she’s our sister, dummy.”

Jack huffed. “I’m just asking! What if she’s annoying?”

Jim chuckled. “Then you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Jack pouted. But then you made a tiny noise—something soft, a little curious—and Quinn’s hand was suddenly there, gentle against your back, like he already understood what Jack didn’t:

You belonged with them.

You avoid them. It’s not subtle, and you don’t care if they notice.

Jack walks into the kitchen for breakfast? You walk out. Quinn parks himself in the living room? You suddenly remember you have something to do upstairs. Luke tries to catch your eye across the dinner table? You focus really, really hard on your food.

At first, they pretend not to care. Jack scoffs and mutters, “She’ll crack first.” Quinn just sighs like he’s too old for this. Luke pouts but doesn’t say anything.

But as the days pass, it becomes clear: you’re serious.

Jim and Ellen, bless them, intervene before things get too ridiculous.

It’s a setup. You know it the second Jim corners you in the kitchen and says, “Need your help fixing up the boat.”

You’re about to refuse when he casually adds, “Jack’s already out there.”

You were twelve when Jack left for the NTDP.

He was throwing things haphazardly into his duffel bag, way less meticulous than Quinn had been. You sat on the floor by his bed, fidgeting with the strings on your hoodie.

“You’re really going, huh?”

Jack huffed a laugh, shoving more clothes into his bag. “Yeah, I mean… it’s not like I’m going to war.”

You frowned. “Feels like it.”

That made him pause. He turned to look at you, his usual cocky smirk softening. “Hey, don’t make that face.”

You tried to glare at him, but the lump in your throat made it hard.

Jack sighed, dropping onto the floor next to you. “C’mon, don’t be sad.”

You stayed quiet, picking at your hoodie. Jack nudged your arm.

“You know I’m gonna miss you, right?”

You scoffed. “Then don’t go.”

Jack groaned, flopping onto his back dramatically. “Ugh, you sound like Mom.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe because she’s right.”

Jack sat up, resting his chin on his knee. He studied you for a second before reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Listen, baby Hughes, you’re my best little buddy. And you know what?”

You looked at him warily. “…What?”

Jack grinned. “I’m gonna be a big deal one day, and when that happens, I’m taking you with me.”

You wrinkled your nose. “To hockey?”

“To wherever I go.” He bumped his shoulder against yours. “Deal?”

You bit your lip, then nodded. “Deal.”

Jack grinned and held out his pinky. You linked yours with his, sealing the promise.

Of course, you didn’t know then that Jack’s world would get bigger, that he’d go from the NTDP to the draft to New Jersey. But you remembered his words.

Damn it.

When you step onto the dock, Jack is hunched over the open engine, frowning like he actually knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t. He’s wearing sunglasses and a backwards cap, and his shirt is already discarded on the deck like fixing the boat is some grueling manual labor.

You cross your arms. “I don’t see Mom or Dad supervising, so I’m assuming this is an ambush.”

Jack grins, but when you don’t smile back, his expression falters. He clears his throat. “Okay, fine. I may have—” he waves a wrench vaguely in the air “—suggested that Dad needed you out here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So you’re admitting you need my help?”

Jack scoffs. “No, I—” he stops, narrows his eyes, and exhales. “Okay, maybe.”

A beat of silence stretches between you.

Then, quieter, he says, “You’re really mad, huh?”

You shrug, crouching down next to him. “Not mad. Just… tired of feeling like you guys only get sentimental when it’s convenient for you.”

Jack nods, tapping the wrench against his knee.

“Fair,” he says eventually. “But, like—cut us some slack. We’re not good at this whole… feelings thing.”

You give him a look. “I noticed.”

He huffs a laugh. “But we do love you.” He hesitates, like he wants to say something else, then just nudges your shoulder. “Even when you’re being dramatic.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch. Jack sees it and grins.

Small steps.

You were nine when Quinn left for Michigan.

He packed his bags carefully, making sure his jerseys were folded just right. You sat on the edge of his bed, hugging your knees.

“You’ll come back, right?” you asked, voice small.

Quinn stopped, turned to you. “Of course I will.”

“But not for long.”

He sighed, crouching down so you were eye-level. “It’s not like that, baby sis. I’m not leaving you—I’m just… doing something for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and Quinn immediately pulled you into a hug. “Hey, hey. You’ll be okay.”

You sniffed. “What if I’m not?”

Quinn held you tighter. “Then I’ll come home.”

He did. But never for long.

Then Jack left. Then Luke.

And now, it was your turn.

Ellen hands you the list. “Take Quinn. And please, real vegetables this time.”

You grumble, but before you can argue, Quinn’s already waiting by the door.

The car ride is quiet.

Then, out of nowhere, Quinn sighs. “I’m sorry.”

You blink, caught off guard. “For what?”

He grips the steering wheel. “For making you feel bad about leaving. That wasn’t fair.”

You swallow. “Yeah, well… it does suck.”

He nods. “It does.” Then, softer, “You’ll always be our sister. No matter where you go.”

Something in your throat tightens.

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, trying to sound unaffected, “maybe I don’t want to be the baby forever.”

Quinn smirks. “Tough luck.”

You huff, but for the first time in days, the silence between you isn’t so heavy.

Ellen and Jim had taken Jack to some tournament, Quinn was away with the Canucks, and for the first time, it was just you and Luke.

You were thirteen, and he was sixteen, but it felt like an even bigger gap back then.

You weren’t feeling great that day—some stomach bug or something—but you had stubbornly refused to call Mom about it.

Luke had been playing Xbox in the other room when he finally noticed you hadn’t bugged him in a while. He found you curled up on the couch, looking miserable.

"Why didn’t you say anything?" he asked, frowning.

You shrugged weakly.

Luke hesitated, then sighed. "Okay. Come on."

You blinked. "What?"

He grabbed a blanket off the chair and threw it over you before lifting you up.

"Luke—put me down!"

"Nope," he said, hauling you up the stairs. "You have two choices: you can walk to bed like a normal person, or I can keep carrying you."

You groaned but didn’t argue. You were exhausted.

Luke tucked you in (with way too much effort, like he thought you’d try to escape), then disappeared for a few minutes before coming back with ginger ale and crackers.

You stared at him.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"You’re being… nice."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Shut up and eat the crackers."

You smirked. "Are you gonna feed me, too?"

Luke groaned, dropping the pillow he was holding onto your face. "I take it back. I hope you feel worse."

But later that night, when you woke up feeling even worse, Luke was still awake, sitting on the floor by your bed with his phone.

"You need anything?" he asked groggily.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. "No."

Luke nodded and yawned. "Alright. Go back to sleep."

Luke drives. He doesn’t play music, which is weird for him. Usually, he’s blasting something obnoxious, forcing you to suffer through his terrible playlists.

He doesn’t say anything until you pull into the parking lot.

“I never thought about it like that,” he blurts.

You turn to him, confused. “What?”

Luke shifts in his seat. “That… you were alone when we left.”

His voice is small, guilty.

You sigh, staring out the windshield. “I didn’t want you guys to feel bad about it. You were chasing your dreams. It wasn’t like I wanted you to stay back for me.”

Luke frowns. “But you still missed us.”

“Yeah, dumbass.”

He huffs a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

After a beat, he hesitates. “You know you can always come back, right?”

You roll your eyes. “I know.”

Luke nudges your shoulder. “We’ll visit. All the time.”

You smirk. “Promise?”

He nods, grinning. “Obviously.”

For the first time all week, your chest feels lighter.

You’re sprawled on the dock, staring at the stars. It’s just the four of you—Jack, Quinn, Luke, and you. The air is warm, the lake is calm, and for once, nobody’s arguing.

Jack exhales. “So. This is it, huh?”

You nod. “Yep.”

Silence.

Then, quietly, Quinn says, “We’re really proud of you, you know.”

You blink, caught off guard.

Luke nods. “Yeah. Like, so proud.”

Jack scoffs. “Even though you’re leaving us.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite in it.

Quinn nudges your arm. “We meant what we said. You’ll always have us.”

You swallow, feeling that familiar lump in your throat.

Then, because you’re still their little sister, you smirk. “Yeah, yeah. You guys are obsessed with me.”

Jack groans. “God, I take it back—go to college already.”

Luke laughs. Quinn shakes his head. And for the first time all summer, everything feels right.

Because no matter how much things change, one thing never will:

You’ll always be their sister. And they’ll always be your brothers.

[covenofagatha]

Have you ever thought about ghost!Agatha x reader? Like reader has a guest, or even someone to make Agatha jealous, over, and Agatha is feeling possessive so she teases reader through her clothes, and reader has to act completely normal or even has to excuse herself from the conversation at some point. The guest has no idea because they don't know Agatha haunts the house so they go check on reader to see if she's okay, and finds her in a compromising position..

Honestly I've recently been obsessed with this idea and need to share it. But like the idea is kinda hot, and please do feel pressure to do this.

Yessss I've been thinking about ghost!agatha quite a bit recently and I'd like to write a full fic at some point when I get time but I thought I'd leave everyone with some thoughts about it in the meantime (this basically became a fic in bullet points whoops)

The house is very below market value, even compared to the neighboring homes, and you ask your realtor what that's about. She replies that people think it's haunted and there's been several ghost sightings there over the years, but it's cheap and when you walk through, it doesn't seem haunted so you put in an offer. Even though it's under the asking price, the couple selling it immediately accepts and you move in a week later

Everything is fine for the most part for the first two weeks. There's sometimes the sensation that you're being watched and you swear that things end up in places they shouldn't be, but you just chalk it up as paranoia and superstition. You've been really lonely since moving into this big house all by yourself in a new city for work, so you're probably imagining company

Until you really can't ignore it any more—you hear creaking on the stairs and on the second floor that sounds exactly like footsteps, your keys end up in the bathtub, cups are knocked onto the floor that weren't anywhere near the edge of the counter

So on a drunken whim, you decide to hold a séance, mostly out of mere curiosity. You don't think it'll actually work, maybe you're actually just going crazy, but it seems like a good idea at the time

Turns out, you're not going crazy because the second you begin to chant the incantation you found on the WikiHow page for séances, you hear someone say "Boo." You open your eyes, scared out of your mind, to find a ghost sitting criss-cross on the other side of the candles, watching you amusedly. She has long silvery hair, a wide grin, and a long dress with an outer coat. Although she's transparent, she is distinctly purple. You hate that your first thought is can ghosts be attractive?

You and the ghost end up talking a lot that night. She tells you that her name is Agatha Harkness and she became trapped in this house after she was killed by a jilted lover. You figure there's more to the story because of the guarded look on her face, but you don't press. In turn, you tell her about moving to the new city all by yourself for a new job and how your girlfriend didn't want to come with you so you decided to break it off. It's so nice to have someone to actually talk to that you don't even care if she's a ghost

Agatha shows you that she can touch things in the physical world if she tries really hard (hence why she kept knocking all your things over to get your attention) and she can turn invisible. You can't help but wondering if she's been watching you shower or when you masturbate and it makes your cheeks heat up. She gives you a knowing smirk and you hope she can't read your mind as well

She makes her presence known to you all the time, to the point where it's much more startling if you can't see her and she also confides that it's been awhile since she's had someone to talk to as well. The previous owners were boring, the ones before them had too many kids running around, but you—she says there's something about you that's different. You both become points of comfort to each other and you sometimes think that it's a bit concerning that your main source of contact with another person is a ghost, but then Agatha tosses her head back with a laugh at something you say and reaches over to pat your hand, the feeling cold but comforting, and you couldn't care less

Things start to develop into something a bit more when you're getting out of the shower one day and you realize that you forgot to bring a towel. You had done laundry and left them all on your bed so you hesitantly called out for Agatha and asked for her to bring you one. She did, but not before raking her eyes over your naked, wet body and then winking at you. You had to dry off more than just the water from the shower

That night, you decide to do some research on whether or not humans can have sex with ghosts. It's so fucking stupid and you're embarrassed to have typed those words into Google, but you're reading up on spectrophilia when Agatha pops up behind you, causing you to slam your laptop closed and jump practically a foot in the air. She smirks as she opens it and hums as she reads the page before she turns to you. You're about to die of humiliation when you see a glint of heat in her silvery-blue eyes.

You find out that night that humans can have sex with ghosts. It's a weird feeling at first to have her touching your clit with cold fingers that feel almost like jell-o but she makes you come nonetheless, mostly with her cooing mixture of praises and degradation. There isn't really a way for you to return the favor, but she hikes up her dress and touches herself, prompting you to masturbate along with her, and you both fall apart

When you're working at home on the weekends, she'll play with you while she's invisible. It's really hard to focus when you can feel her fingers teasing your clit and then sliding into your cunt (it always seems to be wet these days). Because she's a ghost, she can fuck you through your clothes with ease and not being able to see her almost adds to the pleasure. It heightens the sensations and you come moaning her name every time while you hear her chuckling in your ear

You finally make a few friends at your job and have them over to your house one night for dinner and you plead with Agatha to behave. The last thing you need is for your coworkers to think you're insane. You're all sitting at the table, joking and laughing, when your friend touches your wrist and smiles at you nicely before thanking you for the food. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you can feel Agatha glaring at you and her

It's not even really a surprise then, when you feel a touch on your nipple. You have to bite back a moan when Agatha begins rolling it through your shirt and bra and with her other hand, draws her name over and over on your stomach until your cunt is dripping and you're trying not to squirm in your chair

Your friends are talking about your boss when Agatha finally teases your clit and you squeak and both of them look at you like you volunteered to say something. You splutter a few thoughts out, hoping Agatha will tone it down, but she presses harder and rubs fast and you have to start coughing to hide your moans

She finally slides two fingers into your wet and waiting cunt, making you choke on the sip of wine you took, and she curls them hard. Pleasure tingles through your pussy and up your spine and you're struggling not to rut against the chair but you can't help your hips from lightly rolling against her fingers and you just pray your friends don't notice

"Have you heard the rumors that this place is haunted?" one of your friends asks just as Agatha's thumb rubs at your clit and thrusts roughly inside you

You shaking your head, cheeks burning. "I think that's just a myth. Ghosts aren't real." You swear you can feel Agatha smirking and she fucks you even harder, like she's determined to get you to admit that ghosts are very much real, and in fact, you're being fucked by one right now

Just as you're about to come, Agatha stops and you bite your lip to keep from groaning in frustration. She waits a minute until you stop convulsing around her fingers to begin again, and she pinches your nipple with her other hand when she presses on your clit, but she keeps bringing you to the edge and not giving you any relief

So the second everyone finishes their food, you say, "Well, it's getting pretty late," in an attempt to get your friends to leave. They share a confused look but don't question it. You walk them to the door with shaky legs and slick on your upper thighs, and the second the door is closed behind them, you whirl around to find Agatha simpering like a kid in the candy store.

You're going to do research first thing in the morning to find out if it's possible for humans to touch ghosts. But in the meantime, you follow Agatha straight to your bedroom and she finally gives you the relief you need, and so much more

[ace-of-bass]

All of this is real but I wanna add on a personal story that's the reverse of the original post, just so folks don't think all is lost.

When I was growing up, my parents were staunch Republicans. Both of them are very Evangelical, both are from from southern families, both were military brats, and my dad spent 20+ years in the air force. Not a combo that's particularly well known for making people less conservative. My mom tells me that when my parents were in college in the early 90s my dad could've been a Young Republican.

I think my dad's mind began to change around the 2008 election, when we lived in DC. DC is a fairly progressive city, though it's also a military town, and for the first time my dad knew people at church who were liberal and had productive, respectful conversations with them. He still disagreed, but he understood that it was a difference of opinion - not that liberals were evil or stupid.

My dad's mind further changed in 2014, when he was deployed to Afghanistan. He became really close with his translator, who was working and hoping to immigrate to the US - actually I think his first translator did immigrate while he was there and he had a second one for the last couple months he was there. He also saw the incredible hospitality of Afghan people and was blown away by it. He still keeps up with his translator, who lives in Texas now. One thing he said to me at the time was something to the effect of, "Afghans are just like us. They want a better life for their children and are willing to work hard to attain that."

I couldn't trace the evolution in my mom's beliefs quite as well, since she was less outspoken about her politics when I was a kid, but I know a couple things more recently helped move her left. One of our good friends from the church we attended in Arizona, a kid a couple years older than me, came out as trans a few years after we moved away. When we knew her, she had always been thoughtful, intelligent, and well-spoken, as had her mom. When she came out, her mom was unflinchingly supportive, despite plenty of transphobia from other people at the church. My mom didn't actively join in either side but watched it play out on facebook. A few years ago, after the Club Q shooting in my parents' current home of Colorado Springs, my mom said that she thought that all the homophobia and transphobia from the church was wrong. She said there were maybe some Bible verses against being gay, but she couldn't think of any that were against being trans.

But the thing that got my mom really fired up against the republicans was COVID-19. My sister is immunosuppressed and so the isolation of the pandemic hit my family particularly hard, since it was really not safe for them to go anywhere. All the while, conservative voices at their church insisted that services go on as usual, in person, masks and tests not required. This was life or death for my sister, and the callousness of my mom's community broke her heart, I think, and also got her upset at the republican party and Donald Trump (someone my parents had never liked). In 2020, my parents cast their first blue votes.

As my beliefs have rocketed leftwards, my parents' have less quickly. But I still find it fairly easy to talk about politics with them, as long as I don't use the most inflammatory language. Last year, my dad brought up not liking Biden's foreign policy, and said that the handling of the situation in Palestine was a disaster. He said, "I'm not pro-Hamas, I mean, they are a terrorist organization, but the response from Israel has just been so incredibly outsized and unwarranted, and Biden has done nothing against it." Maybe not #fromtherivertothesea, but a more progressive stance than most would expect.

Anyway, I think this reiterates what prev said, that you have to be continually progressing forward. My parents haven't ever been radical, but they've always been open to new ideas, new experiences, and new perspectives, listening to others and hearing what they have to say. If you strive for those things, I think that will do a lot to inoculate you against propaganda.

[xmunsonlovex]

Somewhere I Belong pt. 2

Summary: After your heated kiss at The Hideout, you're aching, and eager to continue your date with Eddie. You hope he wants the same.

pt.1

Word Count: 6800+

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut. making out, grinding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, brief hand job, some dirty talk, role-playing (short lived, because neither reader or Eddie can't hold it together.) Eddie is anxious of reader seeing his scars, reader second guesses herself a lot and opens up to Eddie, fluff.

a/n: here's pt. 2! I am shocked and so appreciative of how well received pt.1 was! Thank you to all who read it and commented/reblogged. I didn't feel 100% with how this part was coming along, but after reading it over hundreds of times...I think I am happy with it. I am planning on a part 3, which will most likely be the final chapter. As always, please let me know what you think <3

Dividers by: saradika-graphics

You’re pacing your living room, hands clammy as you run them over yourself, trying to calm the anxiety you’re feeling. Eddie said he’d be over in about 30 minutes, mentioning that he had to drop off the guys first since they rode with him to the bar, and then he wanted to take a quick shower, not wanting for you to smell the sweat and smoke that usually stuck to his skin after his performances at The Hideout. On the drive home, you had replayed the kiss from earlier in your mind at least a thousand times, smiling to yourself at the prospect of continuing it at your place. You made sure to tidy up, not wanting to take the next step of this date in a messy house. Would he even care how your house looked? Probably not. You weren’t sure where this would lead to, but you were pretty hopeful. You could see yourself dating Eddie, and wondered if he felt the same. You had a feeling he did. 

“I can do this..” You mumble, looking out your window to see if Eddie was home yet. He wasn't, his van was not there and the lights inside of what you assumed was his bedroom, are off. 

You thought about changing into something a little bit more provocative, though you didn't really have anything like that in your possession currently. Well, you did have a satin camisole with a lace trim at the bottom and matching shorts, that quite literally left your ass cheeks hanging out. It was gifted to you by a friend before you made your move to Hawkins. She said it would help in getting you lucky. At the time, you laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but now, it was looking like a real possibility. You’ll have to call her up and thank her. Hmm. If you wore it, maybe you could opt out of wearing any undergarments. That'd fry Eddie's brain, you're sure. You're so deep in thought that you don't hear Eddie's van drive up. He’s quiet this time, his music is off and he purposely shuts his door softly, going up the steps, into his trailer. He didn't want you to know he was there. Yet. 

Eddie turns the shower on, making it a bit nippier than usual to calm the heat that radiates from his body. He feels like a damn teenager again, dealing with raging hormones as you consume his thoughts at every hour of the day. He's had a throbbing erection ever since your heated kiss, which was so rudely interrupted by Gareth. He tilts his head back as his hand glides over his cock, washing away the salty sweat that clung to his skin after his performance, and lets out a soft moan, shuddering at the firm grip. A relief he’s sure you'd be amazing at giving him. He bets your delicate hands would feel great on him, stroking him as he'd guide you through it. He really likes knowing that he'd be your first at everything, if you'd have him, of course. Eddie had a lot of things he wanted needed to do to you. He needed to taste every inch of you, imagining that you’d taste heavily on his tongue. Needed to know your scent, have it pervade his nostrils. Eddie was completely infatuated with you, and wasn't sure how he could act normal around you anymore. Not after that kiss. You had left him smitten. 

The blinds in your bedroom swiftly moved, causing the curtain to ripple at the movement. This paused the whirlwind of thoughts that were going through your head. You crease your eyebrows because you know they only did that when the doors in the trailer would open and shut thereafter. You had noticed this happen when Eddie came in one day earlier in the week to look at the faucet in your bathroom, and when he closed the door, the blinds shook. You still hadn’t heard Eddie’s music blaring from his van though, so you walked to the living room, now dressed in your “provocative” clothes you decided to put on, and looked around. The front door was still shut closed, and there was no sign of anyone breaking in while you were in your bedroom. This would be quite possibly the worst time for someone to break in, while you stand there in this barely there outfit and no weapon nearby to protect yourself. Shit. Maybe I should have locked the door.

“Mmm, my, my. What have we got here? Looking so lonely, princess.“ Eddie’s voice says from behind you. “Didn’t your mom always say to lock your doors at night? A lot of bad, scary guys out there, baby.” He grins mischievously, his eyes slowly scanning your figure. His throat becomes dry at seeing your nipples poke through the thin fabric of the camisole. 

“Holy shit Eddie, you scared me!” You had jumped when you heard his voice, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, your lower back pressed up against it. He lets out a dark chuckle, like he’s enjoying playing this “bad, scary man who just “broke in”. 

“You wanted me to walk right in..well, here I am, babe.” He’s acting so confident but inside, he's ready to bust at the seams. “And I gotta say, you look like a meal. I could devour you right about now..” He takes a step closer to you, reaching out to run his thumb over your lower lip. “The whole ride home, I just..couldn't wait to see you. Wanna continue what we started..” You whisper as you look at him, noticing that his eyes are darker, filled with lust. You’re sure you look desperate, you definitely sound it. His lips form into a teasing smirk, running his tongue along his canine tooth all while his pants are feeling tighter and tighter. “I'm going to take my time with you. If you’ll let me, I'll untie your sensuality. I'll open up your heart, and satisfy my greed.” Eddie says, his breath hitting your neck as he’s pressed up against you, placing both hands next to yours on the kitchen counter, enclosing you with his body. You can distinctly feel his hard-on poking you against your mound. His lips are inches, if not centimeters, away from your skin, waiting for you to give him the ok to continue. He is a gentleman, after all. 

“I’ll-I will let you, Ed’s.” You say, all breathy and feeling weak in the knees. You're thankful he's got you pressed up against him because you were certain you'd drop onto the floor into a puddle of your own arousal. You feel his hot, wet mouth on your neck, giving you your very first hickey, causing you to let out a quiet moan. “You like how that feels?” Eddie smirks, moving one of his hands to hold onto your waist, gripping it as he goes in for another hickey, running the tip of his tongue over his mark, proud to make you his. To show everyone you belong to him. 

“Yes. That feels nice..” You’re certain he knows that you’re practically putty in his hands.

“Can't wait to lay you down and show you just how much you’ve consumed my mind. All the filthy thoughts I've had of you. Do you know how many scenarios I played in my head while I fucked my fist?” His smirks, running the hand he had on your hip down over your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. He doesn't miss the soft whimper you let out, making him growl lowly as he lunges forward to kiss you deeply, holding you in his arms. Your tongues are wrestling when he feels you grind against him, which nearly makes him short-circuit, about to lose the little composure he had left. “Fuck..” He mumbles, and sees you place both your hands over his chest, leading him to your couch. You’re currently super grateful to have that annoyingly large couch you had previously complained so much about. Eddie gently plummets down on the soft cushions, and immediately your eyes fall towards the prominent tent in his jeans. You're giddy knowing you caused that, and feeling empowered by the little confidence boost you’ve gained. Yet Eddie notes the obvious nerves while your hands tremble a bit just as you’re about to take off those small shorts.

 “Baby…you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I'm fine with stroking one out, looking at you just like this.” He smirked and chuckled, hoping he hasn't caused you to think otherwise. That’s the last thing he’d want. 

“I know. I..I mean, I am a little nervous but...” You let out a soft chuckle, feeling chills run up your spine as his hand softly strokes the outside of your thigh. “But I want to at least do something tonight. Who better to guide me..than you..” You blush and lean over to pull down your shorts, letting them pool around your ankles. “Darlin’, you flatter me- oh fuck..” Eddie groaned, taking in your bare lower half as his eyes followed your movements. You chew on your inner cheek, hands nervously grabbing at the edge of the camisole you're about to remove. 

“I..want to grind on you..” 

“You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart. You could fucking shoot me, and I'd thank you for it.” He scoffed, thinking you could do no wrong in his eyes. You were perfect to him.

“Heh..uhm. Well, it’s something I saw in a video one time. I‘d like to try it.” His eyes are wide and lips are parted. You watch porn? You were indeed perfect.

 “Go for it, sweetheart. Experiment on me, but first..” He leans over to grab your shorts that you had stepped out of, and bunches them in his hand, feeling a damp spot on the crotch of them. A smirk forms on his face as he looks at the shorts, noticing the wet spot and puts it up to his nose, inhaling deeply and he lets out a satisfied sigh. God, you smell so sweet. 

“Eddie..!” You’re embarrassed, covering your face with your hands. 

“What? D’you know how long I've wanted to smell you?” He’s got that shit-eating grin, content in now knowing your scent, feeling like he’s hit a jackpot. He's definitely saving those shorts for himself. She won't mind.

You softly laugh, and let out a heavy sigh through your nose as you pull the camisole over your head, now standing fully nude for Eddie. The speed in which you undressed yourself for him honestly left you astounded. You know it went against everything that you kept telling yourself, but you came to the conclusion that Eddie made you feel safe, that he’d never want to hurt you. You bite your lower lip at how he’s staring at you with hungry eyes, his mouth practically watering as he watches every small movement you make. 

“I fear I've died and gone to heaven because holy shit, sweetheart. You're perfect.” His cock is painfully hard, ready to burst through the tight confinements of his pants when you walk over to him, and straddle his lap. He is able to feel your heat through the thick fabric of his pants, which makes his hips involuntarily thrust up, feeling like a damn dog in heat. 

“May I?” You ask, tugging on his belt, but wait for him to respond before you start to unbuckle it.

“Yeah.” Eddie breathes, though he's hardly paying attention to what you're even asking in that moment. He's too busy watching your delicate hands pull his zipper down, admiring how gentle you're being while you were appreciative of how patient he was. You felt you were moving at a snail's pace, at least that's how it felt like in your mind since you wanted to savor the moment. Eddie's sight had moved towards your breasts, admiring how supple they looked and how perfect they'd fit in his mouth. His eyes slowly trailed back down to your hands again, and then back up to your face, smiling at your blushing cheeks. “You're so beautiful..” He whispers and in your giddy state, you lean over to kiss him. Before he knew it, his cock was sprung free and you let out an audible gasp. 

“W-what? What's wrong?” Eddie looked at you, wondering if you suddenly had seen his scars. He wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. 

“You're so big..” You say, and reach out to wrap your hand around his width, able to feel him throb against your palm. The velvety skin felt smooth and warm as you make out the thick vein that was on the underside of his cock as you start stroking him, watching him crease his eyebrows, biting his lip. You wondered how he'd even fit in you when it came time for that, especially since you couldn't barely fit 2 fingers inside yourself.

“You're doing great, Y/N.. “ He spurs you on, grunting with each stroke you give him, which has him a whiny mess as you squeeze the head of his cock gently, spreading the pearlescent precum around, much to your curiosity. You gently press his cock down against his lower tummy, and maneuver your cunt over the underside of his shaft, sitting on him and do an experimental roll of your hips, earning a groan from both you and Eddie. “Fuck. I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I am going to last very long...” He’s watching you as his hands find purchase on your upper thighs, keeping you in place. You start rocking your hips forward in a more fluid pace, grinding yourself on him and moaning at the sweet relief you feel everytime your clit rubs against his cock. The friction you feel is borderline intoxicating, nothing you've ever felt before when you'd touch yourself. Despite the lack of experience, you weren't totally clueless, knowing you enjoyed how elated you'd get after an orgasm. You loved chasing that feeling.

“You're so wet, baby. Can't wait to eat that pretty pussy of yours. Bet you taste so sweet, like a delicious dessert..” Eddie grins and watches you, seeing how your breasts moved with the way you were gliding up and down on him. It had him incredibly, and embarrassingly close to cumming.

All that's heard in the small trailer is your moans along with Eddie's heavy panting as his grip on your thighs move to your hips, tightening his hold on you. “Faster..” He grunts, observing the trail of slick you're leaving on the underside of his dick the faster you grind. You're leaning over him now with both your hands on his chest, holding you up as you chase your own pleasure and orgasm, knowing you're about to reach that peak. “Fuuuck..” Eddie breathes out, gripping your hips even harder now as his cum spurts out onto his stomach, a large load from being virtually teased all evening. The image of him orgasming,  because of you…topples you over the edge. “Eddie!” You moan out, shutting your eyes tightly as you cum. Your movements come to a halt when you feel yourself a bit overstimulated, never being able to handle crossing that line. You're both trying to recollect yourselves, heartbeat thumping in your ears from the intensity of it all. 

“Was it everything you wanted it to be?” Eddie breaks the silence, smirking and chuckles, looking down at his stomach, seeing the mess he made, and then the mess you made on his cock. That brought him joy. Knowing that he barely touched you. That you used him to get off, he loved it. He could get used to that. 

“Yes..that was amazing..” you giggle and let out a deep, satisfied sigh, a small smile spreading on your lips as you stand up. Your legs are still wobbly from the intense orgasm, and you walk over to the lining closet, pulling the door open and grab a couple of hand towels to clean up. You're walking back to Eddie, and see him watching you like a hawk. “Babe, next time, I do the honors. Pretty thing like you shouldn't have to worry about cleaning this up.” Eddie says as he grabs the towel from your hands and cleans himself up. Next time. You like the sound of that. 

“Such a gentleman.” You blush as you grab the camisole, slipping it back on, and chuckle at Eddie who is frowning at you. “I had such a nice view.” He tsk, and stands up, pulling his pants back up, though he leaves them unbuckled. You’re both staring at one another, a small gap between you two. He’s looking at you, really looking at you as his hand reaches out to caress your cheek. He’s not sure how he got so lucky, to have a pretty thing like you honestly interested in him in a romantic sense. He closes the gap, and kisses you tenderly, never getting enough of his lips on yours. 

“We will take things at your pace. If…if you want to continue this. I’m-I don’t even know if you liked me enough to wanna do this again. You had fun, right?” Get it together Eddie, she’ll really want to go on another date now after this rambling.

“Eddie, relax.” You chuckle, smiling fondly at him. He’s so cute. “Yes, I had a lot of fun tonight. Between the concert, and well...” You blush and bite your lower lip. “I was actually going to ask.. if you’d like to spend the night? I have a few horror movies. Maybe pop some popcorn.” 

“Hell yeah, I’ll stay the night. I’ll get the popcorn, you pick the movie.” He kisses you, and walks into the kitchen, looking in all the cupboards for the popcorn box, making himself familiar with where everything was in your trailer. “Ah-ha.” He spots it, and grabs one packet and puts it in the microwave, pressing enter. He watches as you walk past him towards your bedroom,and admires the nice view of your ass, smirking as it jiggles with each step you take. The loud popping of the popcorn pulls his attention off of you in that moment, and he leans over to grab a large enough bowl to fill with the buttery popcorn. You come back around, dressed in just an oversized band tee. “Iron Maiden? You’re full of surprises, honey.” Eddie grins amusingly, as he throws the popcorn bag into the trash. “You have no idea.” You sweetly smile and open your fridge to pull out 2 soda cans, and walk over to the living room, placing the sodas on the coasters that were on the coffee table.

 “I picked Texas Chainsaw Massacre..”

“Going straight for the kill, huh? A classic.” Eddie chuckles and sits down on the couch, getting comfortable as he pats the seat next to him. You realize he still makes you nervous, and you’re not quite sure why. You literally got yourself off on him not even an hour ago, and he’s seen you fully nude now. You suppose that it's because this is the first time you’ve hung around with someone you actually like. And now he’s spending the night? Yeah, you understand why you have butterflies. Regardless, you muster up a smile, albeit a shy one, and sit next to him, thighs touching as you sit back and press play. 

The rest of the night is filled with stolen glances and little pecks here and there, barely paying attention to what’s going on in the movie. You really did intend on watching, but alas, it was just background noise at this point as you two sit there making out, not being able to keep your hands off of each other. It’s close to 1am, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. The movie had long been over, as you lay on Eddie. He’s running his fingers through your hair, and you’re listening to his heartbeat as if it's a lullaby, putting you to sleep. “Let’s head to the room. I reckon we won’t sleep comfortably here if we drift off.” He says, patting your butt to get you to get off of him. Not that he minds, but he moves around. A lot. He’s afraid he’ll knock you over in the middle of the night in his deep sleep. Your hum makes him think you agree with him though, as you stand up, and grab his hand to help pull him up with you. Eddie puts the popcorn bowl and empty soda cans in the kitchen sink, a task for the morning to deal with, and soon you both are in bed, under the thick blankets after brushing your teeth together. 

Eddie’s comfy in your plush bed. Smells much nicer than his, like you had recently washed the sheets, and they’re so much softer. He guesses you use fabric softener? He may have to invest in it if it truly works this well. This whole time he thought it was just a gimmick, but if he plans on having you sleep over too, well..he’ll do what he must.

“G’night Eds..” You say sleepily, laying on your side, facing him.

“Night, sweetheart.” He whispers, and leans over to kiss the top of your head, wrapping his arm around you to keep you warm. The trailer got quite cold, much colder than his, he noticed. His AC was something he usually would hold off on repairing. It was an expensive fix and most times, he slept naked anyway. He didn’t see the need to ever service it but if he was going to have you over like he intended, he definitely had to get it fixed. Eddie kisses your head one last time before you’re both out, soft snores heard shortly after. 

It's not even 10am the next morning and Eddie is already all over you. His body Is hovering over yours, holding his weight up by his forearms. He's giving himself a pat on the back for working out his arms at least. He fills your neck with soft kisses, low groans escaping him as he runs his hand up your thigh, wanting to make you feel like his goddess. That wasn’t an issue because you had never felt this desired in your adult life. 

“Eddie..” You sigh with a sleepy smile. 

“What..?” He grins, moving his lips to the other side of your neck, giving it the same treatment. “Thought I'd wake up early and enjoy the morning with a little morning breakfast.” He smirks, kissing down your neck and throat, peppering kisses along your collarbones. 

“I..I haven't showered this morning though.” You say, as you look at him. It was your routine ever since you were in school. An early morning shower to wake you up and get you ready to tackle the day. 

“You did last night? I smelled that fancy body wash on you when I broke in.” He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly as he continued to make his way lower on you. 

“Yeah, but-”

“Babe. You're fine. Ya’ gotta let it marinate overnight so it tastes perfect, anyway.” He licked his lips, and you gasped out loud. “Eddie!” You playfully smack his upper arm, shaking your head as you see him continue moving on south, a playful grin on his face as he pushes your shirt up around your waist. You've done no real effort in stopping him though, your curiosity getting the best of you. “Please?” He is practically begging now, wanting nothing more than to put his tongue deep in you. He sees you spread your legs a little more, and makes out the small wet spot on your panties already. “I'll take that as a yes?” He says as he lingers over your clothed pussy, pressing a soft kiss to the top hem on your underwear. “Yes.” You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. His gratified look calms your nerves as he takes another deep inhale of your scent, sticking his tongue out to teasing flick at your clit over your underwear. his eyes are stuck on yours as he gauges your expressions, which you were already feeling euphoric with that light touch of his. 

“I'm going to take these off.” He says, hooking his fingers into your panties and slowly slides them down your legs, sitting up a little to toss them to the side of the bed, then looks at your pussy, all spread out for him. “Mm..” he lays on his stomach again, and holds your inner thighs wide open as he licks a slow stripe up your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a nice suck. The moan that left your throat was downright pornographic, making you flush with embarrassment. Eddie could tell, and he’d do anything to help break you out of that self conscious shell you hid behind. His bruising grip on your thighs keep them wide open for him, making you wince in pain and pleasure as he flicked your clit with his tongue, before he slid it into you, his nose bumping into your swollen bud as he relished in your taste. “Fuck, fuuuuck…” You’re writhing underneath him, and grinding on his face as you're already so close to that sweet finish line. 

“Yeah? You like that..?” Eddie groans as he pulls away from your dripping cunt and instead, slowly inserts his middle and ring fingers inside you. “Shit baby, you're so fucking tight..” The obscene sounds that were heard from him fucking you with his fingers should have made you recoil, should have made you want to curl into a ball and hide, but you were feeling too much ecstasy to even care at this point. “Can't wait to stretch you out with my cock, princess..” He groaned, resting his head on the inside of your thigh and looked up at you, a big smirk on his face knowing he's got you right where he wants you. Fucked out with your juices all over him. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby? I can tell you’re close. Squeezing my fingers so good..” He leans in to suck on your clit hard while he keeps fingering you, curling it upwards towards that spongy spot that makes you see stars. “Ed-Eddie! Fuck..I'm cumming..!” You all but yell, gripping his hair as the intense orgasm washes over you. Your heart is beating rapidly and your pussy is throbbing, but Eddie hasn't refrained from moving his fingers, or tongue for that matter. He's licking up every drop you gave him, making sure as to not waste a single bit of your delicious nectar. Your heavy breathing is music to his ears as he places a gentle kiss to your mound, kissing up to your lips, and smiles.

“Morning.” He chuckles, watching as you come down from your high. 

“Oh my god.” You softly laugh, and kiss him in return, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I could get used to being woken up like that.” 

“Consider it done. Every morning, my duty is to sneak into your trailer, hide in your closet while you sleep and then wake you up by feasting on your pussy.” He happily smiles, which causes you to heartedly laugh at his silliness. “Wouldn’t be a surprise if you tell me, now would it?” You play along, biting at your inner cheek. You’re certain Eddie has now picked up on most of your nervous habits. The inner cheek chewing, playing with your fingers, the lip biting, stuttering. You got teased for it a lot in school, yet Eddie finds it cute and endearing.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, babe. It’s just me. Your cute neighbor...and…maybe boy..friend?” He says the last part as a question, in hopes that he isn’t overstepping. He knows he can do that often, from what others have told him, anyway. Being that obnoxious metalhead kid in high school gave him that title. You look at him, as that familiar reddish blush spreads over your cheeks, the one that he finds so cute. “And I just want to assure you that I know we’ve only known each other for what..a week now? But it’s been the best week of my life, Y/N. I-I don’t get many opportunities that come up for me like this. Meeting a genuinely nice girl…who’s actually into me? Most would say hell hath frozen over now that Eddie Munson got a girlfriend..” He chuckled, pouring his heart out to you. He felt you needed to hear this, so you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much. He could tell you did that often, just like he did to himself. ”I like you..if it wasn’t obvious enough with how much I like to be around you, and in you.” He grinned, reaching out to grab your hand and pulled you up, so that you’d be closer to him.

“I promise I’ll never hurt you..because I feel…you’re quite..apprehensive about that.” He says softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I..yes. I am. This would be my first relationship, like I’ve said. I saw the pain my mom went through when it happened to her. Her previous relationships. One was abusive..one cheated multiple times. She never deserved that..” You softly speak, looking at your hands as you shook your head. “ I don’t..think I could handle that pain, if it happened to me. I know I’m still young..but..” You hesitate continuing to open up, like you normally did with anyone. You sometimes wondered how you even had friends. 

“Talk to me, babe. If we’re going to be build this friendship, this relationship, we gotta get things out in the open. Be honest with each other." Eddie says, stroking your hand. 

“Well, I told you a little bit about my life back at home when you took me to the farmers market. ‘Know that I basically had a rough high school experience. I was that shy, quiet kid in school..ever since forever basically. I did have friends, but kids were so mean. Then I started high school and fucking christ..” You sigh, looking at Eddie, who remained looking at you, trying to be comforting. The more you thought about it, the more you became disappointed in yourself. Why did you let it affect you so much? “I-I guess I had really low self esteem all through my school years. Never had someone show any interest in me, not even an anonymous note in my locker…like they do in the movies, you know?” You chuckle, biting your lip as you feel the emotions start to overwhelm you, so many memories of those days replaying in your mind. “One  time I ask a guy I liked to hang out, I thought maybe he’d be into me a bit. But he literally laughed in my face after turning me down. Saying he didn’t date my kind. Whatever the fuck that meant.” The tears are forming, as you tilt your head up and sniffle, not wanting to cry in front of him. Not again, anyway.

“Baby, here. Look at me.” Eddie’s calm voice pulls you from your negative thoughts. A nagging voice that was always there, saying you weren’t good enough. “I don’t know those people…they sound like absolute fuckers, but I will say…I gotta thank them. You know why? Because you said you left that life at home wanting to escape, wanting to start a new life. Well, I wouldn’t have met you if that didn’t happen. I know that’s selfish, but give me a chance to..show you how good I can love you. Let me erase all those negative thoughts you have in your pretty head. You deserve to feel good about yourself. To be treated like the angel you are.” He says, stroking your cheek, hoping he’d have some success in taking you out of that dark corner you always seemed to gravitate towards. 

“Whatever happened in high school, those idiots…are just that. Idiots. I am no stranger in being the laughing stock for those football players or cheerleaders. I imagine you can tell I was not a popular guy by any means.” He chuckles. You smile softly at him, at his efforts to help you get out of that slump. 

“I-I know. I gotta leave that behind in the past. I just…tend to second guess myself with everything. Always questioning things..” You sigh, and cross your legs, feeling his hand on your back, softly caressing it as he tilts his head to the side a little, pressing it up against yours. It’s a quiet gesture, him giving you some time to express your next words, if needed. You knew he was right, knowing this is what you moved to Hawkins for. To make a new life, a new beginning, and whatever life threw your way, you’d handle it as a new person. And that’s exactly what life did. 

“Now, let’s enjoy this lovely day, yeah? It’s actually a perfect Sunday.” He stands, and extends his hand out for you to grab, and pulls you up with him. 

“After a quick shower, please.” You beg, wanting nothing more than to wash away last night’s, and this morning's, depravity but mostly just to feel refreshed and clean.

“Go ahead. I gotta check on some things at home. Meet me there, ok?” Eddie kisses you, and grabs his keys from the kitchen counter. “Oh shit, I forgot to take care of this.” He looks at the mess in the kitchen sink, knowing he said he’d handle it in the morning. He had to be better about that.

“I got it. I’ll see you in a bit, Eds.” You smile as you walk to your front door, opening it for him. He turns to kiss you before jogging over to his trailer, blowing you another kiss and then goes in. Truth is, he didn’t want to shower with you, not yet. He’d have to explain those damn scars he was so self-conscious about, and get into everything that has happened in Hawkins over the last few years. What if that made you want to leave? He couldn’t have that, no. He knows eventually he’ll have to tell you, especially when you’re ready to have sex with him. No way is he fucking you with a shirt on and no pants, like some fucking moron. He battled with the thoughts in his head, knowing he was being a bit of a hypocrite since he, quite frankly, told you to open up to him, and spill whatever was in your head, and here he was, not telling you everything he had dealt with in his young life on earth. A soft sigh escapes him as he steps into the shower and turns on the water, rubbing his face and groans frustratingly, at himself mostly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a girlfriend. Sometime during his first senior year attempt, he thinks. Since then, it’s been pretty lonely. Now that he’s got you pretty close to wanting to be in a relationship with him, he had to get his shit together. Tell you all about his life, the bullshit he endured in ‘86. He definitely had to keep his trailer clean. He’d turn into a bit of a slob after Wayne moved out. Well, he was never tidy, but the state of his trailer left him ashamed, especially since yours was so neat. 

“Fuck..” Eddie mumbles, grabbing a 3rd bag to fill with trash that was on the coffee table and the floor surrounding. “Shoulda just told her I’d meet her back there..” He sighs, annoyed that he was breaking a sweat after his shower, and groans when soda drips all over his hand from a half full can. He’s ready to throw it across the room when your soft knocks against his door causes him to pause. Maybe if he stays completely still, you won’t see him through the blinds but that doesn’t seem to work when you knock again and yell out, “Eds, I can see you!” a soft giggle heard from behind the door. “Comin’.” He stands and walks over to let you in, a shameful look on his face as you take in the condition of his trailer. “I uh…the maid took the week off.” He says, joking to hide the humiliation he feels when you take a step in and cross your arms. “The week, or the whole year off?” You chuckle and grab the trash bag from his hand, smiling. “I’ll help.” You say and ignore his protests that you don’t have to, that this was his mess he had to straighten out. “I like cleaning. So, good luck with convincing me otherwise.” You smirk and kneel by the couch, starting to toss empty beer cans into the bag. 

Eddie pulls a lawn chair next to yours that sits by your small vegetable garden, facing the open area of grass and the start of woods further down. You’d yet to go exploring in there. “So, you sit out here, and just watch the sunset?” He says, handing you the bottle of water that you requested, and takes a seat beside you, extending his legs out as he cracks open the can of beer for himself. “I do. It doesn’t take too long, since the tall trees kinda hide it after a bit, but it looks beautiful. Relaxes me after a day at work.” You say and turn your heads towards him, admiring his side profile. You really liked his hair, a wild mane that fit his wild personality perfectly. Those full lips that kissed you so tenderly, yet feverish in need. The heavenly bulbous tip of his nose that bumped into your clit repeatedly when his tongue was lapping at your pussy. 

“You know darlin’, you can always take a photo. They last longer.” He teases with a grin, watching you quickly look straight ahead.  

“Oh, fuck off.” You softly laugh, and take a sip of water, holding his hand when he reaches out to grab it, needing to have some part of you in his grasp. It was comforting to him, as it was for you. What better way to enjoy the Sunday evening than with your cute neighbor, watching the sunset from the comfort of your backyard. 

A sigh is heard from Eddie. "Alright. Time to tell you about the upside down.."

[technically-human]

goth agent stone is something i've been spinning in my head for the past couple weeks... i've been into goth for, oh my god around a decade now (albeit on and off) so i hope you don't mind if i ramble some thoughts at you as a jumping off point? it's a bit of a niche headcanon so i'm delighted to share it with someone ;; this is a bit of a long one sorry so feel free to ignore it lol i won't be offended

i can imagine stone as having quite a corp goth lean: pinstripe pencil skirts, black trench coat over a suit, cat eye sunglasses, eyeliner!! that sort of thing. not all that different to what he usually wears, just... spookier! i can imagine him in a lot of black leather too, given the whole motorcyclist thing. robotnik might be similar but with more DRAMA. he's a supervillain he's got style he's got flair he's got ribcage patterns sewn into his jacket.

and since stone's someone who sews (and is clearly quite good at it) he'd have so much freedom!! can't find the perfect ruffly blouse? make one! in the '80s especially goth fashion was about hand me downs and DIY he'd be so at home

as for music!! that's the real heart of it. i can imagine them both enjoying the classic, 80s goth roots type of music but i've always pictured robotnik as having an industrial/metal/rock lean. stone feels like he'd be happy listening to whatever robotnik wants to listen to, honestly, as well as some of the dreamier stuff like cocteau twins. music to sway and yearn to.

but uhh anyway if you want a peek into goth culture i'd recommend watching or reading interviews with bands like specimen and fans at the bat cave or just on the street, there were a lot of news outlets that interviewed goths back when it was this really crazy new thing. i'm especially fascinated by the ones from the '80s but there's some excellent modern bands too :-3 and for a look into '90s and 2000s goth there's of herbs and altars' storytimes, please mind the content warnings on them because they're quite heavy but i credit dorian with getting me back into goth after i'd basically abandoned it in my teens.

i did a little happy dance when i saw you were thinking of looking into this stuff, i'm very passionate and this is really just scratching the surface. i could go on and on as all my friends are very aware ;; but i'll stop now. thank you so much if you read all this

Rambling is a love language and I would never ignore someone rambling at me. Feel free to ramble more, even! My DMs are open if you'd prefer!

This goes to everyone, actually. I am very very shy and socially awkward, but I ADORE IT when people talk to me about stuff they love. Everyone is welcome to! I love listening, as my girlfriend would tell you, and I love learning. No excuse needed, you can pop up like "hey I feel like talking about polar bears" and I'll pay attention.

That being said ohoho, this is great! Taking notes, taking notes, thank you so much! I can tell you've put a lot of thought into it. I do agree Robotnik would be far more dramatic with his clothes kinda like that scene in Megaming where he gets his evil outfit ready and I wouldn't be surprised if Stone is the one designing his outfits!

I can also picture this:

[harmonyrae]

Crimson Ice

Synopsis: Zayne is the most self-less, kindhearted person you know. He remembers everything you like and is very aware of your needs. He's done his research and has encouraged you to consider his offer. And tonight, you are more than ready, but there's one thing you need to do first.

Content Warnings: SO FLUFFY but then steamy, explicit language & sexual content, mentions of menstrual cycle, feminine products, blood/bleeding, fingering, oral (m&f receiving) & yes oral while on period so blood near mouth (I researched it don't worry), needy Zayne, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5k  

You lean against the counter and close your eyes, letting the steam from the tea kettle warm your face. The phone barely rings twice before Zayne picks up. 

“Everything okay, my love? I just got off work.”

The butterflies in your stomach swirl when you hear him use that name. You giggle to yourself and try to ignore how the butterflies turn to fireworks.

“I was wondering if you could stop at the store for something?”

“What do you need?”

You’re glad he can’t see how you’re blushing. It’s not that you’re embarrassed, you’re just not sure you’ll ever get used to talking about your period so openly with him. 

“Can you pick up some pads for me?”

You hear the door to his car close and assume the Bluetooth is connected. His voice sounds far away when he speaks again, you can tell you’re on speaker phone.

“The same kind I’ve gotten for you before? Or something else?”

You hesitate for a moment and wait until you hear him driving to speak again. You didn’t need anyone in the parking garage to overhear your pad preferences. You’re about to speak when you hear a faint chirp.

“I’ve taken you off speaker phone.”

You laugh softly, the blush on your cheeks deepening.

“Thank you… Yeah, the same ones. I should have picked up more yesterday.”

“So the tracker app I recommended was accurate then?”

“Yes… it was. I don’t know how, but it’s strangely accurate with the predictions. It sent me a message yesterday to make sure I was prepared and I didn’t take it seriously.”

“Well now you know for next month. Did you need anything else? I can pick up dinner?”

Your stomach growls, how long has it been since you ate something? The nausea is always bad on day one, so you’ve barely eaten. Now that the sun was setting, you were ravenous. Instantly, the image of a massive burger comes to mind. Followed by a milkshake. 

“Is that burger place you took me to still open? The one with the really weird milkshake options?”

“Yes, last I checked it is still open. Do you want a cheeseburger?”

You turn off the stove and move the kettle to the counter. You struggle to open the honey jar with one hand and drizzle honey on the bottom of your mug. Your grunts of frustration echo through the phone. You hear Zayne’s low chuckle. 

“You know you can put me on speaker, right?” 

You scoff and close the honey jar loudly. You drop the tea bag into the mug and pour the steaming water on top of it.

“I had it handled…” 

“I’ll get you what you ordered last time, with the extra crispy fries and a… carrot cake milkshake?”

The disgust in his tone is evident and you cover your mouth to stifle your laugh. He’s being so sweet… Of course he remembers what kind of pads you use and what you ordered. He always remembers. Your heart pounds and you just want to grab him and kiss him…

“Darling?”

Zayne’s voice cuts through your fantasy and you nearly drop your phone. You sigh and slide onto the bar stool, resting your head on your hand as you wait for your tea to cool. 

“Yes, that sounds perfect. I’m really hungry…”

“Have you been nauseous today? Did you drink some ginger tea?”

You stir the tea in front of you. The strong scent of ginger is almost too much, but it has helped calm your stomach all day.

“Drinking some now. I’ve had a few cups actually.”

“Good, I hope it helped. I’ll be home soon.”

You hang up and sip your tea. When you woke up this morning you knew something was off, you usually don’t have cramps when you start your period so you were confused with your stomach ache. Usually back pain makes you double over, but this month mother nature graced you with something new. When the familiar nausea hit you, you rushed to the bathroom and sure enough.

You were looking forward to a relaxing weekend with Zayne, but he had been called in for an emergency surgery and now your period… You scroll through your phone until you find the checklist you made for this weekend. Shopping for the hospital’s charity gala would have to wait, you were too bloated to find the right dress. Organizing the attic was definitely not happening, you were not risking inhaling dust and sneezing. Baking cookies for the Hunters of Tomorrow… you’d eat all of them and spend the next three days feeling guilty and sick. You take your mug to the sink and quickly wash it, setting it on the rack to dry. You shuffle to the living room and flop down on the couch. 

The next thing you know, the front door is opening, you didn’t know when you fell asleep but your neck was killing you. You sit up and roll your neck, the tense muscles popping. You sit up and try to smile at Zayne as he approaches you. His expression is calm, but is laced with concern.

“Does your neck hurt?”

You nod and sheepishly look away. He sets two large paper bags on the coffee table and removes his coat, draping it over the couch as he walks around behind you. You tremble as his cold fingers trace your neck and slowly massage the strained muscles.

“Sorry…”

He’s always apologizing for his cold hands, but you’ve grown to love the chill that runs through you when he touches you. You tip your head forward to let his fingers work up the center of your neck. His thumbs press against a particularly tender spot and you flinch. He pulls back immediately and places his palm over the spot, gently cooling the skin and easing the pain. 

“Don’t apologize. It feels good.”

He removes his hand and you almost whimper at the loss of contact. You’ve been thinking about curling up with him all day. His skin cooling yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles dipping lower to massage your lower stomach. A shiver runs down your spine, you stretch, trying to distract yourself from the onslaught of dirty thoughts. 

Zayne sits next to you and opens the bags on the table. He pulls out your pads, the exact brand you wanted, and then a new box of ginger tea. You smile when you notice he got the honey ginger flavor. He also pulls out a box of your favorite peanut butter chocolate candies and you let out a squeal. He looks over at you and smiles, those bright green eyes sparkling. 

He opens the food bag next and places the first container down, opening it to reveal a huge order of extra crispy fries. You immediately reach out to grab one, but Zayne smacks at your hand gently. 

“Patience. Let me get everything set up for you.”

He was always pampering you during your period. Massages, cooking, gentle words of affirmation. It drives you crazy, especially with your worst symptom getting harder to ignore. You’ve been in a relationship with him for almost a year and only last month had you finally worked up the courage to tell him about it. He was familiar with your ovulation routine, but he had no idea how feral you became during your menstrual cycle. He spent almost an hour assuring you that it was normal and there had been several studies about sex during your period being healthy. Going as far as explaining that it might help alleviate cramps. You weren’t sure at the time and he left for a conference a few days later, so you didn’t have a chance to revisit the topic.

“Fine. I’ll get some silverware.”

You stand and go to the kitchen to get two sets of silverware and plates. You return to your spot on the sofa and watch Zayne lay out napkins on the coffee table, he reaches for the plates and his fingers brush against yours. You nearly drop them, but Zayne grabs them firmly. He takes your hand and pulls you down onto the sofa. His gentle gaze makes the burning sensation between your legs even worse. 

“A teriyaki-glazed burger with cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayo and a thick slice of grilled fresh pineapple. You always go for a sweet and salty option don’t you?”

“Why should I have to choose when this burger exists?”

He laughs and carefully plates your burger. He opens the container with his and your eyes nearly start watering. You cough and lean forward, peering into the box at his burger.

“What on earth did you get?! Why does it smell so spicy?”

He plates his burger and you spot the grilled jalapeños and pepper-jack cheese. When did he start liking spicy food? 

“It’s called a ‘Heatwave Burger’ - it has pepper-jack cheese, caramelized onions, a chili aioli, avocado and grilled and fried jalapeños.”

Your mouth hangs open and you stare at him. 

“I accidentally had fried jalapeños at a banquet during the conference I was at last month and ended up really liking them. Since then I’ve tried a few things.”

He pops a fried jalapeño in his mouth and he sighs, savoring the flavor. His cheeks flush as the heat filters through his senses. His glasses slip down his nose a bit and you bite your lip suppressing every urge to tear them off of his face and kiss him. You weren’t a big fan of spicy food, but tasting the heat on his tongue while his cold fingers held you close… 

You clear your throat and grab your milkshake, sticking your straw in and taking a large gulp. If you can focus on eating maybe this urge to jump his bones will subside. You carefully cut your burger in half and take a bite. Goosebumps rise along your arms as you chew, the sweetness of the pineapple mingles with the smoky teriyaki. When you look over, you see Zayne watching you while he nibbles on a fry. Your cheeks flush and you pout.

“Why are you staring?” 

He smiles and cleans his hands on a napkin. He carefully removes his cufflinks and starts rolling up his sleeves. You freeze, staring at his hands as they roll the fabric up over his elbows. Damn your weakness for forearms. And damn him for having spectacular ones. 

“I’m just happy to see you eating.”

You force yourself to look up at him. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. Is he doing this on purpose? Rolling up his sleeves like that? You drop your gaze and focus on your burger. You’re only able to finish half of it and a handful of fries before you’re full. Zayne splits the fries between the two burger containers and you place the half you didn’t eat inside. You both stand and walk into the kitchen, placing the containers in the fridge and the leftover milkshakes in the freezer. 

“They’ll be a nice midnight snack.”

Surprised, you look at Zayne as he washes the plates and silverware at the sink.

“You never approve of midnight snacks… Who are you and what have you done with my Zaynie?”

You hold up two fingers and point your finger gun at him. He chuckles, his shoulders shaking as he turns to dry his hands on a towel. The water drips down his arm and you watch the muscles in his forearm twitch and flex. You let out a shaky breath. He looks so good like this. Sleeves rolled up, glasses sitting low on his nose, face flushed from his spicy burger, just washing dishes after dinner. The domesticity of it all is the most attractive thing in the world to you right now…

“You’re staring again.” 

You blink and watch him step towards you. You instinctively step back and your hip hits the edge of the counter. You wince and grab your hip, Zayne’s hand covers your own and you hold still, the feel of his skin touching yours is intoxicating and you just want to freeze this moment. Zayne steps closer and his breath tickles your ear. 

“Have you thought about what we talked about last month?”

You finally meet his gaze. His eyes scan your face, his other hand stroking your arm. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“I have…”

“My opinion hasn’t changed. Whatever you want to do, I’m here.” 

It takes all of two seconds for you to throw your arms around him and slot your mouth over his. He wraps an arm around you and braces himself against the counter with the other. With your chest pressed against him, you can feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

You drop your hands to his waist and pull his shirt up, untucking it from his pants. As your fingers fumble with the buttons he grabs your hips and starts to pull you towards the bedroom. His lips ghost over your neck and jaw, teasing kisses as he walks. With his shirt open, you run your hands over his chest, your fingers circling his nipples as you latch onto his bottom lip. 

He throws open the bedroom door and you don’t bother to try to close it. Just as you approach the bed, you spin, your hands pushing against his chest to push him down. He grunts as he falls onto the bed. You kneel in front of him and start to unbuckle his belt, but he grabs your hands. 

“Wait, this is supposed to be about you… not me.”

You can’t stand it anymore. You’ve worked hard to find a balance, a give and take, but every time Zayne turns you on you have only one desire. And every time you try to act, he pushes back and pampers you. Even when you’re not on your period, he always focuses on your pleasure first. But now that you’re finally indulging, you can’t stay quiet any more.

“I should –”

You cut him off.

“Zayne, I love you so much, but… I don’t want this to just be about me. You don’t realize how good it feels for me when I pleasure you. When I hear you moan and whimper… fuck, I’m obsessed with those sounds.”

He looks down and runs a hand over the back of his neck. He clears his throat and shifts on the bed. Your hands rise to cup his face and he slowly looks up to meet your gaze.

“You deal with so much every day, your job demands everything from you and you come home and put my needs above your own. You’re the most selfless person I know and I love you for that, but all I want right now is to help you let go. You deserve to feel good, your needs are important to me.”

He runs his hands down your arms. The crease between his brows is deep, you can’t help yourself, you lean forward and kiss the center of his forehead. His face relaxes and he lets out a breath. You rest your forehead against his.

“Zayne, I’ve come from just sucking your dick.”

His grip on your forearms tighten, his legs tremble against your waist.

“You can do whatever you want to me later, but I need this. I need you to let go for me…”

You run your hands down the sides of his neck and onto his chest. His hands rest on your arms, not directing them, simply moving with you. You slide them over his shoulders and push his shirt over and down his arms. He lets go of you and shrugs his shirt off, letting it fall behind him on the bed. Your hands glide down his chest and over his abs. 

“To taste you…”

You lean forward and lick along the hollow ridge at the center of his stomach. He groans, his hands gripping the comforter.

“To feel you…”

You bend your knee and stand just enough to drag your nose along his jaw before dipping down to his collarbone. You place tender kisses along the top of his chest and then turn your head to suck his nipple into your mouth. He gasps and his hands release the comforter to reposition behind him to stop himself from falling. 

“To watch you lose control for me…”

You lower yourself to your knees and continue unbuckling his belt. When you look back up at him, his chest is heaving and his eyes are barely open. He stares down at you and watches you unzip his pants. You hook your fingers into the waist and yank them down harshly along with his underwear. The sudden pull causes him to fall back onto his elbows. 

He gasps as you wrap your hand around his cock and slowly start to pump him. He sits back up, his hands propping him up. You run your thumb over his swollen tip, perfect beads of precum slowly leaking out. Your mouth waters and you squeeze his thigh with your free hand to ground yourself. You don’t want to rush this…

“Wait…”

You barely hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. You look up and watch his eyes drop to your chest.

“Take off your shirt.” 

You’re about to argue, but the way he looks at you… he’s begging. God, that’s fucking hot. You release him for a moment to pull your shirt over your head. You reach behind you and unhook your bra, letting the straps drop down your shoulders. You watch Zayne’s pupils dilate as you pull the cups away. 

You lick your hands and rub the center of your chest before tracing circles around his slit gathering more of his precum. His mouth drops open when you rub your hands together and smear his release between your breasts. You wrap your hand around his cock and lean forward, with your free hand you cup one of your breasts and start to rub his cock against it. He struggles to catch his breath, a stream of precum dribbles down from his cock and onto your chest. You release his cock and cup your other breast, bringing it up to the other side. 

You squeeze your breasts together around his cock and use your thighs to move up and down. You keep your eyes on Zayne’s face, his mouth hangs open and he moans as he watches his cock move between your breasts. Your fingertips brush against your nipples making you shiver. He lifts a hand and reaches towards you.

“No!”

He stops and clenches his fist.

“No touching…”

He drops his hand back onto the bed. He closes his eyes and bites his lip. You smile at how his glasses have slipped further down his nose and his chest glistens with sweat.

“Take off your glasses, baby.”

He sighs, opening his eyes enough to lift his hand to pull his glasses off to drop them on the bed beside him. You shift to place one foot on the floor under you and use the leverage to bounce up and down faster. His hips twitch as his cock swells and the urge to thrust builds. Just as his grunts turn to whines, you lean back and release your breasts. His eyes fly open and he glares at you. 

“I know baby, I’m sorry. But… I can’t ignore my cravings at this time of the month…”

He barely has time to register your words before your tongue darts out to lick his slit. You finally hear him whimper. You’re about to come just from hearing that tiny sound. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck, you feel Zayne’s legs shake and you look up to see he’s collapsed back onto the bed. You wrap your hand around his base and stroke him slow while your tongue traces circles around his tip. 

A muffled groan causes you to stop, you see his arm draped over his face so you reach your other hand under to cup his balls. You massage him for a moment before gently squeezing. His arm flies off his face and he groans loudly. 

“I want to hear you, let me hear you… please baby…” 

You lick the underside of his shaft, his slightly salty flavor is exactly what you’ve been craving. You can’t hold back anymore, you take him into your mouth slowly. He thrusts his hips and you don’t lecture him, you’re both too far gone to care. You hollow your cheeks and suck all while massaging his balls. You flatten your tongue and start bobbing your head trying to take him as far into your throat as you can. You’re proud of your progress from the first time you tried to deepthroat him - you almost threw up when his tip hit the back of your throat. Now, the sensation makes your clit throb. 

You can feel his legs shake as he tries to stay still for you, but that just won’t do. You squeeze his balls again and he moans your name. You groan and the vibrations of your voice send him right over the edge. His release hits the back of your throat and you close your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks. You focus on breathing through your nose and bobbing your head, keeping your lips sealed around him so you can swallow as much of his cum as possible but it still leaks out of the corners of your mouth. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck!”

To hear Zayne swear is a treat, he is usually so composed and reserved. You know you’ve achieved your goal of having him fall apart when he’s a babbling mess of whimpers, moans and swears. As he comes down from his climax, you swallow around him and use your tongue to clean up. He’s so sensitive post-release, but shit, he’s still so hard.

You release him and rub your cheek against his shaft. He lifts himself up to rest on his elbows as he looks down at you. He groans at the sight and his hips shift backwards. 

“Please… let me… touch you… now…”

His staggered breathing makes you smile. You nod and he sits up to grab your arms. He hauls you onto the bed on top of him. With your chest pressed against his, he wraps his arms around you, one hand sinking into your hair to keep you where he wants you. He kisses you in a frenzy, not wasting a moment to press his tongue into your mouth and taste himself. You taste the tiniest bit of something spicy and remember how hot his dinner was. The aftertaste makes your eyes water and you tuck your hands under him, letting yourself get lost in his flavor. 

He rolls you over and supports himself on his elbows, he chuckles as he takes in your cock-drunk expression. He dips his head and places kisses along your neck, chest, stomach, hips… As he tucks his fingers into the hem of your sweatpants you try to stop him.

“The bed…”

Zayne kisses your hands, urging you to loosen your grip and let go. When you do, he doesn’t hesitate to tug your pants and panties down completely.

“I’ll buy us a new bed if I have to, please don’t make me stop, I need you… I need this –”

His fingers find your clit and the sudden chill makes your hips jerk. You were so incredibly close, but the thought of your climax wasn’t as exciting when the mess would be twice as messy. You feel Zayne kiss your inner thigh, urging you to spread your legs further. You sit up on your elbows and try to close them instead.

“Za-ayne… You can’t…”

“Darling, as long as I don’t ingest menstrual blood I’ll be fine. Besides, I know you prefer my tongue elsewhere.”

He dips his head just enough to let the tip of his tongue roll over your sensitive clit and you’re gone. You collapse onto the bed and relax your hips so Zayne can spread you open. He presses your thighs down and closes his mouth around your bundle of nerves. His tongue circles and flicks, pausing to suck and kiss before repeating the cycle. He presses two fingers into your tender pussy and you cry out his name. 

“Say my name again… say it just like that, again..."

You do just that, over and over until he is curling his fingers so deep tears are streaming down your cheeks. His tongue matches the pace of his fingers and when he speeds up you only have time to let out a strangled whine before you’re seeing white. 

His fingers continue pumping you through your orgasm, while kissing your thighs. When he finally pulls his fingers away, you sob. He rolls you on your side and pulls you to his chest, letting you cry into his embrace. Damn, your rollercoaster emotions. 

“I’m so-sorry, I don’t kn-ow why I’m cr-crying. That felt so-o g-ood.”

Zayne chuckles and the rumble of his chest against your cheek calms you. Your tears slowly stop and your breathing regulates. Zayne’s hand caresses your back, using his evol to cool you down. You rest your forehead against his chest and slide your hand up his torso. You gently push against his chest so you can look up at him. 

“It really did feel good. So… good. I’m –”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He cuts you off and you smile. He knows you too well.

“I was going to say…I’m ready for round two.”

Zayne’s eyes widen in surprise and you giggle, savoring the moment. It’s not often you render Zayne speechless. It doesn’t last long, he rolls over again and you cling to him as you adjust to your new position on top of him. His hands hold your hips as he guides you into a sitting position. Your muscles stiffen and you look down, expecting to see his stomach covered in blood. 

“Hey, look at me.”

You close your eyes, forcing your hips to relax. You open them to see Zayne looking up at you like you’re his entire world and your chin begins to tremble again. His hands gently massage your hips and he smiles softly.

“I love you.”

You feel every worry melt away, this kind, caring, selfless man is everything to you. You’ll spend everyday telling him that. But tonight, you’ll show him how much he means to you. And you do just that, for hours on end. Zayne has always had a surprising amount of stamina, but when you finally stop, it’s clear he is going to need the rest of the weekend to recuperate. As tired as he is, he still gets out of bed and picks you up, taking you to the bathroom to clean up. 

“Let me help you clean up, please?”

While he’d usually deny you, he sighs and lets you help. The look of pure bliss while you wash his hair, yeah, you’re willing to beg to do this again. However, he still doesn’t let you walk when your shower is done. He wraps a towel around you and carries you to the guest room. He brings you a pair of pajamas and a pad. You put on the panties with a fresh pad and crawl into bed, reaching out a hand to Zayne. He glares at you before tugging off his t-shirt and sleep pants. He crawls into bed with you and savors the heat of your skin against his. His steady heartbeat lulls you to sleep.

When you open your eyes, it’s still dark out. You make a mental note to put a digital clock in the guest room before crawling out of bed. Zayne wasn’t there and you were already feeling anxious. If he is cleaning up the bedroom right now, you swear you’ll start crying again. 

The guest room door squeaks as it opens - another mental note, fix that. The faint glow of the kitchen light draws your attention and you follow it. You lean against the doorframe and smile as you take in your half-naked boyfriend stuffing his face with the rest of his dinner. You clear your throat and he nearly falls off of the bar stool. He turns to look at you, a glob of sauce smeared across his mouth. 

“Midnight snack?”

He wipes his mouth and grabs a fry, reaching out to hand it to you. You walk up to him and take the fry. You don’t miss the way Zayne’s eyes roam over your bare chest and he winces. You really did a number on him if getting even slightly hard makes him tense up. You cross your arms over your chest and lean down to look at him.

“You okay?”

He sighs and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Just a little sore and very hungry. It’s been a while since we –”

“Fucked like rabbits?”

His cheeks redden as he looks down to the floor. You pull away from him and round the island to retrieve your leftovers from the fridge. You set the box down to pick up a blanket from the laundry basket sitting at the dining table. You wrap the blanket around yourself and sit beside Zayne. 

“Thank you.”

Zayne tilts his head and raises a brow, his mouth too full to say anything.

“It did help with my cramps.”

Zayne swallows and leans over to kiss your cheek. His thumb follows to clean off the sauce he left behind. 

“I’m glad. But if this is going to be a regular occurrence I think we should invest in a few things.”

You poke at the frozen surface of your milkshake.

“Like what?”

“Like a waterproof blanket, would be useful even when you’re not on your period with how much you –”

“ZAYNE!”

He chuckles and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to kiss you again. 

“I’m sorry my love, but I’ll never be ashamed of how good I can make you feel. You’re my world and like you said last night, your needs are important to me too.”

AN: I did literal research to make sure eating someone out on their period was safe and Doctor Zayne is spot on. It’s also important to make sure the other person is tested for any bloodborne diseases. Obviously Zayne would know since he is the primary care physician and I have a HC that they would share that information with each other without hesitation. So yeah, don’t ingest it, use a “dental dam” (basically a barrier/shield) and know each other’s boundaries & health status.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmut@withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @havenhope-art @lly5duck @freddy-2002-blog

Sylus Period Smut - Crimson Intimacy Rafayel Period Smut - Crimson Tides Xavier Period Smut - Crimson Glow

[imrix]

I mean, cards on the table I take it a fair bit further than that and just don't really see anything intrinsically disturbing about mind control.

Like, I've pointed out elsewhere that the mind trick as it's shown in the OT isn't really mind control, it's the psychic equivalent of a bit of smooth-talking. It can convince a bored checkpoint guard to wave you through but can't, say, get someone to empty out their wallet for you.

But even if we are talking about mind control, I tend towards your view that it's really about what you do with it, because when you really drill down into it, basically all communication is mind control to some degree.

All kinds of communication constitute attempts to change how somebody thinks, it's just that 99% of the time it's consensual and expected. People will try to change your mind so that you like them more, or want to give them money for something they're selling, that's just the way of the world.

Now, larger, forced shifts to your values that leave you thinking or doing things you'd never otherwise accept, like emotional abuse, entrapment, or cult indoctrination - those're a different beast, and that means it's really an issue of scale and what you do with that kind of power. Mind control isn't an automatically fucked up power, it's about, as you say, knowing when and how much influence to use for the situation.

Mind control on par with, 'I'm gonna pay you $100 bucks to fuck off'? Probably fine. Mind control on par with Clockwork Orange-style reprogramming? Proooobably somewhat less than fine.

[mywritersmind]

umm I don't really have an idea in mind (sorry) but id love to see an ex!franco fic!!

THAT PRETTY BLONDE - FC43

summary : In which some drivers are checking out a girl and when Franco goes to meet her, they already have been introduced. In fact, they’ve had years of knowing eachother.

listen up : franco x ex! no warnings! thanks for the request i love the idea of franco and his ex so here’s smt short!

words : 1135

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“What’re you staring at?” I elbow Lando while Oscar, Isack, Kimi, and Carlos are completely locked in, their eyes on something in the distance.

“Mate…” Isack hits my chest, “Hottest girl ever.”

Kimi nods as if he has a chance with anyone over eighteen, “Mamma mia...”

“Right there. In the white.” Lando points to a girl in the crowd, her back is to us and I immediately understand what they’re talking about.

I can’t even see the girl's face but she’s already stunning. She’s in a blue mini skirt and a white top that falls just before her waistband. She's slim, her legs long, definite model quality. Shit, I see one attractive girl and suddenly i’m a model scout?

She flips her hair to her back, long and blonde. “Ay…” I mumble, “I’m going to talk to her.”

“No way!” Lando interjects.

“Come on Colapinto leave some for the rest of us.” Isack rolls his eyes as I grin and push past Oscar who looks more curious than hot for her.

I stick my tongue out at them as I walk backwards, turning around and walking straight up to her. I clock the William’s mechanics already, the familiar faces nodding to me.

“Hey…” My voice trails off almost immediately, the second the girl turns to me, my mouth goes dry.

Her smile drops at the same time the mechanics walk away, “Y/n.” I choke out, staring at my ex-girlfriend in the face. What the actual fuck.

“Franco.” Her voice makes me physically shiver, the same one that used to sweet talk me. I recognize it all too well. She’s not smiling, her expression neutral as she checks me out, “Thought you weren’t driving this season.” She says it as if it was the most casual thing ever.

She pops her hip, raising a brow. God I used to love when she would do that.

I never have issues talking to women, unless it’s her. I don’t know why, just something about her made me so nervous, especially after the breakup. “I’m uh… just here in case.” I scratch the back of my neck, looking past her at the guys who are staring.

“Right.” She smiles softly, moving her arm up so her fingers tug at a curl in my head, “You look good.” I swallow, ultra aware that she hasn’t touched me in over a year.

I can’t breathe. “Thanks. You look… You know you look good Y/n.” She laughs, nodding. She always did. “I like your hair.”

“Really?” She twirls it around her finger, “Kinda miss the brunette.”

“So, you’re here.” I eye her badge and swallow, “With william’s?”

I swear on my life she’s doing this on purpose, “Mhm… I was invited. It’s not too weird… is it?”

“Well considering you broke up with me before I became a william’s driver…” Shut up Franco. Shut up.

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t pull that. You know why we broke up.” Me. Of course it’s me. I nod as she glances back to the guys who pretend to be doing anything but staring at her. “Could you tell your friends that if they want to look at me, they can talk to me first?”

I let out a dry laugh, “Not a chance they’ll be doing either.”

“Hm, still possessive I see.” She tilts her head, smirking.

“You got a boyfriend I should be worrying about?” She shakes her head slowly. Good. “Then yeah, they’re not getting close.”

She smiles in the way that she used to, “Look I gotta go…” I spent this past year thinking about her, wondering if I would ever see her again, yet here she is. At a bloody race with the team I should be on.

“Right. Maybe we can catch dinner sometime?” I don’t know why I say it, it literally just comes out of me.

But thankfully, she doesn’t scream in horror, just grins wider, “If you’re lucky, Colapinto.”

I nod and start walking away, “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.” The second she turns away, I slowly walk back to the guys.

I cannot believe she’s here. “What the hell!?”

“There’s no way you pulled her in that amount of time.” Carlos raises a brow.

“Who is she!?” Kimi asks, “Yo, Colapinto! Details!”

I groan, slamming my head against the wall as they all go quiet. I breathe in, then out, my eyes squeezed shut. “She’s my ex.”

They freak out. Oscar laughs out loud while Carlos just shakes his head. “Excuse you!?” Lando shakes me.

“You’re fucking kidding!” Isack argues.

“I wish.” I say, looking at the group of shocked men, knowing i’m about to have to explain that the one girl I ever truly loved, broke up with me because she thought (she knew) I wasn’t doing enough. “Oh I really fucking wish.”

“Mate… how’d you not recognize her!?” Lando’s laughing now.

“She was brunette…” I groan at the memory of my beautiful brunette girlfriend who used to party around argentina and kiss me against club walls. “and I didn’t expect the fucking loss of my life to be here!”

“Shit. I can’t believe you fumbled her.” Oscar shakes his head, making me frown.

I cross my arms, “She broke my heart, thanks.”

Lando raises a brow, “Oh?”

“She dumped you!” Kimi giggles, “This is the best news I’ve ever heard. You think she’d go for me?”

I punch him in the arm, making the younger boy flinch, “She is way too old for you. And she’s my ex!”

“I don’t see any issues.” He shrugs, making me blink. He fucking wishes.

“Shut your trap, Antonelli.” Lando laughs, “Franco. Is she single?”

“Mate!” I swear, “Not you too!”

He laughs, “For you! There’s no way you’re fucking up this opportunity.”

Carlos nods, “You believe in fate?”

I eye the man in blue, “I believe that she’s in your garage all weekend…” I smile and clap him on the shoulder, “I just have to visit my best mate!”

He laughs, shaking his head. He’s about to say something but goes suddenly quiet when someone walks up. It’s her.

Everyone shuts up.

“Fran.” She calls me by my nickname, thoroughly twisting the knife, “Call me tonight, yeah?”

I think I might faint.

The sharp pain in my side is caused by Isacks elbow, forcing me to nod as they all check her out, “Of course.”

She looks at all of them, laughing a bit before waving, “See you.”

“Bye…” Half the guys say! I slap all of them.

“Oh Fran…” Lando mocks her, batting his lashes, “Please come take me out and-”

“Shut it!” I start walking away.

“Where are you going?” Oscar asks.

“I need to figure out what i’m going to wear!”

[stump-not-found]

hellooo haiii :]

i saw a while ago that you said that you were fiddleford hater among lovers… do you mind speaking more on that? (sorry i really liek hearing ur views on stuff)

uhh yeah you know what i'll talk a lil about it . why not . i can share some analysis as a treat . will tuck my thoughts gently behind a readmore, so sweet and softlys

i think fiddleford is a fine character its just irritating when narratively he's treated as this very tragic figure when he's an adult man capable of making his own choices . this is a flaw with the books, to be clear - i do not think the actions of fiddleford align with the explicit narrative he has as a nice guy who had a terrible thing happen to him, which stanford must feel soul-crushing guilt over .

this is what bothers me about him: that he is intended to be read as just an all around good dude with tragic circumstances, rather than a messy guy who made shit-ass terrible decisions every step of the way

not even talking about fandom mischaracterization. that's a given in any collaborative fan space and i don't really hold it against people for doing that . fandom is fun, play with your dolls, do whatever - all that mostly means is im not gonna vibe w/ a lot of fanart, it's not going to impact my opinion of the character . i do think it's funny how the collective fanonization of him is simultaneously the wettest meow-meow, but also a total badass when . he's so fundamentally conflict adverse he destroys his own life and body over it .

my man fucks raccoons . i guess that's badass in it's own way . i guess

the thing that is compelling about fidds to me is he is a bit of a worm, and that worminess winds up destroying him from the inside out . he really embodies the entire concept of 'inaction is action', in a way that's deeply frustrating in both fun and not so fun ways

some of the fun things we know about fiddleford:

leveled the downtown area of palo alto

built a robot to try and kill his wife when she tried to divorce him

built robots to kill kids because his son wasnt paying attention to them

brain blasts people to get free labor out of them

started a cult to brain blast people

so horny for Cthulhu Columbo that he did not get his son a christmas present . not a single Tonking Truck . i know your brain is half melted at this point but cmon man

i don't really think the whole leaving his wife in the 70's is all that cute either . it's a one off joke, and there's something interesting about the fact that it's a one off joke . like what kind of financial freedom do people think a single mother is gonna have in this time period? why is that something that goes unchallenged?

and the fact he leaves them for a year is just like . that's also fucked man . i can personally attest to how fucked it is to have your dad just piss off for a year to do contractor work . what a wild subplot to be treated with such little narrative importance to his character . like . the fact that it holds so little importance to fidds is a narrative all on its own

it's just weird how the story treats him, man . he's not that endearing of a dude, which is what i like about him . i like that he makes bad decisions . i like that he doesn't respect when people say "no" . characters should make bad decisions and be bad people . i just really hate this presentation of his own actions being the fault of anyone other than fiddleford

oh also the research paper stint was insane . wild to me that that was presented in the story as like a cool or kind thing to do to someone . like that's a very reasonable boundary for stanford to be upset about being crossed, and its wild how that's presented as him being a jackass . there are MANY things that make ford a piece of shit . being upset about a guy doing something like that behind your back is not one of them

tho that's a whole other conversation about how ford as a character is defined by never having his boundaries respected, and this never being challenged, and in fact he should just be okay with it when it happens by the "right" sorts of people . once an object, always an object . love him

[oikarma]

how you get the girl | pt.2

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: what is up with your ex-situationship's timing?

a/n: time to lock in and actually work on this fic LOL.

part one / part two

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liked by lando and others

yourinstagram to new beginnings

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lilyzneimer will miss having you as a neighbor </3

yourinstagram oh but lily no distance could separate us yourinstagram i'll call you so often you'll get sick of me lilyzneimer you already do yourinstagram oh. so.

hattiepiastri what happened to "catch flights not feelings"

yourinstagram in the making of this post no feelings were caught hattiepiastri but you are catching a flight yourinstagram it's for my freaking job let me BREATHE

yourfriend chef ramsey

yourinstagram ❤️ come over and i'll let you try some, they're sooo good

lando missing you in shanghai

yourinstagram you called me hours minutes ago lando wish you'd come visit yourinstagram what, are we in an established relationship? hattiepiastri OOOH CLOCKED!!

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liked by lilyzneimer and others

yourinstagram home is where the heart is

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yourfriend so much fun with you!

yourinstagram can't believe we live so close now

hattiepiastri but i'm literally in aus.

yourinstagram didn't say where my home was, read the caption again hattiepiastri sorry queen ☹️

lando but that's not where mine is?

yourinstagram lando have you been listening to ts recently lando maybe yourinstagram didn't peg you for a lover boy @/oscarpiastri come here lilyzneimer don't make fun of his music taste yourinstagram who, oscar's? don't you worry, i was just sharing information so oscar could bully lando oscarpiastri Thanks, mate. yourinstagram good lad! lando ...

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deuxmoi Well, what do we think?

view all comments

user1 cheating already? gah. men.

user2 well maybe kylie's had a change of mind we never know. might be an inside joke or something

user3 she VEHEMENTLY hates green user4 wow fancy vocab user2 i'm just saying, maybe there's another meaning.

user5 are we sure its timothee

user6 ma'am this is a wendy's

user7 where even was he

user8 he posted his poker night at chateau marmont then dipped so no idea user9 on his story he posted a pic at an airport so prob not in LA anymore

user10 what was that girl he was hooking up with called again? swore i heard her talking in one of her tiktoks how she loved green

user11 that's crazy user12 delulu 101 user13 think her name was y/n or something just google it

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close friends only

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yourinstagram me rn

view all comments

lilyzneimer ...what now

yourinstagram TURN OFF DND AND RESPOND TO ME

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tiktok

@/chalametss timothee and kylie spotted at a concert

user1 guess it was an inside joke after all

user2 what user3 there was a rumor going around that he was buying stuff in her least favorite color user4 what even are these theories

user5 mom i don't like what i'm seeing

yourtiktok @/lilyztiktok bro this comment has been deleted

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liked by mclaren and others

lando Shanghai P4. Not the best pace today. We got off to a bad start but made what we could. Good job, Oscar.

user1 ohhh the first pic

user2 ovaries just exploded

user3 lando norizz who? he looks at me like that and i drop dead

user4 You got it mate

oscarpiastri Thanks Lando!

user5 mclaren's 2025 wdc + wcc

yourinstagram congrats! wish i could've been there

lando come to suzuka? user6 @/maguiwhateverheruseris keep an eye on your man user7 she's actually really pretty...why y'all hating? user8 no one's hating?? yourinstagram i'll see

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yourinstagram insert motivating gym quote

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hattiepiastri oooh SPICY

yourinstagram 💓💋

lilyzneimer i approve of p3 wholeheartedly

yourinstagram almost forgot i had him blocked for a moment and worried that he'd see it lilyzneimer what are you worrying about?? you don't owe him anything

lando coming?

lando to suzuka? yourinstagram why'd you phrase it like that lando 😉 oscarpiastri Can you guys not. yourinstagram pop off oscar, tell him off lando 😔

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a/n: got kinda messy...

[stellathyst]

"Is a donut part of the grain food group? Because grain is supposed to be good for your body, but donuts are all glazed and sugary. I get that if you get rid of the glaze and sugar, it's just grain, but that's not a donut without all that glaze and sugar. It's like, you can't~ you can't have a donut without sugar. It's just not a donut without sugar. It's a fonut. A fake donut. Or even better, a tunod. "

"???"

"That's donut backwards. A tunod. Yes. A sugarless donut is called a tunod. I absolutely despise tunods, and they can go to hell. They would probably taste like sour bread and give you an aneurysm. I swear, if tunods ever get put into existence, I will cry. I will sue whoever made it and flood their production line. All of the tunods will be flooded and nobody will ever get another tunod. Now my stomach hurts talking about tunods, because they will 100% give everybody food poisoning. And now I'm just really tired of talking about tunods, mostly because I never wanted to talk about tunods, because they suck. So let's talk about some else. Like towels. Towels are nice. They keep you warm. And dry. Cloths are similar to towels. But most cloths are smaller than other towels. And cloths are usually used to get rid of spills. The word cloths look like the word clothes. Like the kind of stuff that you wear. Or hats. Hats are like clothes, but for your hair. Unless you're bald. Then it's for your ghost hair." "I'm beginning to question if I chose the right host."

"Hats can be used to make people think that your hair is still there if you're bald. They can help you pretend you still have hair. Impostor hair. Speaking of hair, I've never gotten a different hairstyle at my local hair salon. It's always "2 on the sides, and 7 on the front." Then they're like "Regular for the back?" and I'm like "Yup." They know me well. My family knows me well. My dad knows the sore spot on my back where he hits me with his belt. Belts hurt. A canvas D-ring belt hurts too. I have no idea what a canvas D-ring belt is, or if it even exists, but it sounds painful. This case is open and shut. Just like his mouth was, constantly. That was my last fat joke, ok? That was from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Watch the show. What's that? You have? Watch it again. I watch it before breakfast and forget to eat. I like breakfast. Breakfast tastes good. Unlike tunods. Sorry, sorry~ I should not of brought that up. Nobody likes that. I wonder how many words I've said so far."

"I am trying to not blow my cover, please don't distract me."

"And you will probably succeed. Because my fingers WILL fall off eventually. Like when I play text-adventure games. I enjoy text-adventure games. They're fun to play, and to create. But sometimes they're SO annoying. Like I would say: "look around" and it's like >There's nothing to look at. Like, what? There has to be SOMETHING to look at in the stupid room or church or whatever the character is in. He can't just be in blank nothingness. Or she. Or they, my bad. I need to get better at using pronouns correctly. Sorry. Forgive me. Please, accept my forgiveness. Forgive me my sins. I beg you. Okay, I'm not that desperate. But what if I am? What if I'm playing mind games with you, and I really AM desperate? Um, puppies are cute, I like cats better, I am speaking in an Australian accent, that's a lie, what I just said is false, I lied, this is false, I am not correct, this is not a debate. I can't believe we came this far. Talking about donuts to hats to random stuff. I'm gonna stop here soon because my voice hurts. I'll say a couple more sentences. Shoutout to Reddit (I am not getting paid to say that) and Discord. I like Discord. Discord is really cool. Numbers, 12345, 67, 89, 10. Letters, ABCD, EF, GH I am bored." "MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE."

You have been possessed by a demon. Instead of panicking, you realize an important truth: you're trapped in your own body with a demon at the wheel, but you're still in the car, and you have the power to make them regret every single second they spend with you.

[sakumz]

Hii! I really like your writing style, would you be interested in writing a headcanon or scenario about a man in ZZZ acting a bit possessive toward his partner, if you don’t mind?

a/n : hellooo and I'm sorry it took awhile to write this (wanted to post on vdays but I forgot) hehe

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[ wise, lighter, harumasa x fem reader ]

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--- wise

he can't help but feel a little jealous when he sees you, his beloved be a little LITTLE too touchy with his lovely sister. why are you patting her head when she's done something good? must you really give her hugs too when you say goodbye? are you dating her or him?

today. he just can't stand TODAY! he was supposed to be having movie night at your home, why is belle here? she said she'll help bring over snacks and be done with it. someone's gotta handle the store, you know yet she's here, yapping mid way through the movies and even feeding you popcorn. he leans closer to you. heck you can even hear his breathing if you focus a little more on him. just as he's about to drape an arm over to your shoulders, you stand up.

" what's wrong? " belle asks as you grab the now empty bowl on her lap.

" it's almost half empty and we're barely halfway through the movie. I'm gonna get more popcorn, just stay put you two! " wise sighs heavily as you disappear into the kitchen.

" why are you doing this? " wise heaves a huff as belle tries not to laugh. has he caught on?

" because I like her- "

" she's my woman you know! I got to her first. "

" but she clearly likes me more, " as you walk back to your spot.

you were pulled into a hug, your bowl falling flat as your brain malfunctions.

" no she doesn't like you as much as me! she's mine. " he hugs you tighter as the room falls eerily quiet.

" of course I like you as much as her, what's wrong? " belle and you can't help but burst out laughing.

" then why do you keep- " you turn to kiss him, pulling away quickly as belle snaps a photo of wise flustered face.

" you don't have to be so possessive over me, I'm yours you know. " you smile as wise hugs you once more, burying his face in your hair to hide his smile.

--- lighter

" come on sweetheart, I'll treat you a hundred times better than that red scarf, " the man next to you stirs as you giggle.

lighter took you to this random bar after a long motorcycle ride. who would've thought a few talking about your day to a stranger would lead to him hitting you up.

you feel lighter's shoulders tremble a little, next thing you know. more sweet words spilled from the drunken guy led to the glass lighter was gripping hard to spill.

" aw look at what sunglasses did, he splashed a little on your dress. here let me wipe- " the man took the serviette, ready to pat your dress dry as lighters hand came flying towards his own.

" I'll handle this and I'm sorry for your dress. " he takes the serviette from the man and wipes the part he ruined. his frown visible.

" see sweetheart, I'll treat you a hundred times- "

" better than me, but I'll punch you a hundred times to get it through your thick skull that she's not interested. " lighter spat as both you and the drunken man were left speechless. the man couldn't help but run with his tail between his legs.

" thank you for that but you know, a hundred is countable and my love for you is so much more than that. " you kiss his cheek as his sunglasses fall slightly from the bridge of his nose, exposing his shock filled green eyes.

--- harumasa

who would have thought harumasa would ever have a stand off with his long awaited rival. your possessive cat.

must your cat really stick by your side the moment you come home? he's there as you make dinner, eat (the cat sits on an empty vacant seat), crash on your couch, bed and when you go to the toilet? must he really wait outside...

harumasa sighs as he watches the cat follow you like a lost child. when you make dinner and press a kiss to your cats head. dont think harumasa missed the part where you steal pieces of meat and feed it to that cat!

" come on, can't I cuddle my girlfriend? " he spat at the cat as he pulls away from the hug and your cat is quick to steal a spot on your lap.

" just let my baby be, you don't see me complaining when your cat acts needy to you. "

" that's because she NEVER acts needy! " he points an accusing finger at you as you laugh.

to say the least, he really hates your boy cat. when you arrive at H.A.N.D with your cat in a carrier, why did nobody stop or toss your cat out? you said you've just collected him from the vet during your break and everyone was fine with it.

why did soukaku release your cat from the carrier? your cat was sitting on his seat, right next to you as miyabi and soukaku pats and compliments how well behaved and adorable he is. yanagi couldn't help but laugh when a co worker said your cat would've been a better partner than harumasa himself. WHAT!?

" CAT! your mother is my woman and you're second place in her heart, get it in your little fur brain or I'll just have to make you! " he grabs the cat, glaring directly as your cat gave the most nonchalant uncaring look to him.

" he's just a cat, don't get jelly. " soukaku says as she pulls the cat away from him.

" I am not jealous! " he spits.

" don't be possessive then, " miyabi says from behind him as he slumps on his chair.

" you're number one in my heart so dont worry about a cat. he won't replace you, besides. we already made plans for a vacation so you won't feel the presence of that cat for a week, " you rub circles on his hand as a faint smirk tugs at his lips.

[aangarchy]

Opinions. I have them and I want to share them. On the Netflix live action specifically.

It's a little over a year since the release of Netflix ATLA and since then I've kind of just been stewing on it angrily as if it's insulted my mother or something, and there's more things that I've been meaning to say that I never mentioned in my original reviews, specifically on why I think this live action is doomed to fail. It all has to do with media literacy, because these writers don't seem to fucking have any.

An example I want to talk about is the waterbending scroll. I want to bring this up specifically because this is a mistake m night shyamalan's movie also made. I will be referring to them as Natla (netflix atla) and tla (the last airbender movie).

Both natla and tla have the waterbending scroll in their story. I'm sure the writers gave themselves a pat on the back for including this important story element. But what is very apparent is that they do not understand why this scroll is in the story, because in both live actions Katara gets handed the scroll by someone. In tla she gets it handed by strangers who tell her it was stolen from her people by the fire nation and that she should be given it back. In natla, she gets handed the scroll from gran gran. In both of these instances this scroll can be replaced with literally any other object. It could be a rock that strengthens a bender, it could be a letter written by someone, it could be a stick. In both versions, the narrative reason for the scroll being there in the first place is missing completely.

In the original show, the scroll is specifically part of the story to develop Katara's character, because she doesn't just get it handed to her, she steals it. And it's a decision she makes herself without discussing it with anyone else. Katara going out of her way to steal the scroll from pirates, and not really seeing an issue with it because the pirates stole it from someone else first, tells us a lot about Katara's moral compass and how she sometimes likes to twist her ethics to fit her own narrative. In any other instance Katara would tell people stealing is wrong. Literally later on in book 3 she tells Toph something similar, that she can't just scam people just because they were scamming her. But because this scroll is something she desperately wants so she can improve her own waterbending, she tells herself it's fine to steal this because it didn't belong to those pirates in the first place. She believes as a waterbender she has more right to own this scroll than those pirates do. It shows us how committed she is to learning waterbending and connecting to that part of her culture, because she's willing to go quite far in order to achieve this. Later though she gets faced with the consequences of her own actions, because stealing the scroll lead to the pirates teaming up with Zuko and chasing her and her friends, which ends up endangering Aang.

In this episode she also obsesses over the scroll to a toxic degree. One of the excuses she uses to justify her stealing it is because she wants Aang to learn too. But it becomes obvious that this is just an excuse, because she tries to claim the scroll for herself by saying Aang can have his turn after she learns, even though it's kind of more prudent for Aang to learn first as the Avatar (because the episode before this we literally just learned about the comet and our end of summer deadline to learn all four elements). It shows that Katara isn't some goodie two shoes, and that she has some ugly sides to her. She can be sneaky, selfish, stubborn, immature, and has difficulties letting go when she has her mind set on something. Then when Aang gets caught by Zuko she realizes that she caused all of this, and she apologizes to Aang who then tries to be a good boy and tell her it isn't her fault, but then Iroh kind of throws it back in her face that yeah, this is in fact her fault.

This episode also shows us development between Aang and Katara's relationship. We learn that Aang being naturally better at something is a difficult thing for Katara to swallow, and while Aang tries to make her feel better by encouraging her and telling her she's a great teacher, he doesn't manage to solve the problem which is that she feels inferior to him here. Later on, he acknowledges that just like him, Katara is a waterbender. She doesn't just know some waterbending moves, she IS a waterbender. Then they work together to escape, this makes Katara feel better, and it strengthens their bond.

This entire plotline is the reason for the waterbending scroll existing in the original storyline, but all of that is missing from both live actions even though they also have the waterbending scroll in their story. I'm sure these live action writers don't see the problem, they probably think the pirate episode is just filler they can cut without consequences, because the scroll is the only thing that's retained in the rest of the story after this episode. But that's simply not the case. This episode is much more consequential, even though it's not immediately obvious or visible, and that's what these live action writers do not seem to grasp, which is what I mean when I say they lack media literacy. They think the only thing that makes that episode worthwhile is the object that is obtained, and because they don't want to go through the hassle of adapting the whole pirate episode the only element they keep is the scroll. But everything about this scroll and why it's narratively necessary is removed.

This lack of understanding of character development and how to write a good story is why Katara's character is so bland in both live actions. All her agency gets removed. She doesn't decide to steal the scroll, she doesn't decide to help Aang save the world, she doesn't decide to ignore Sokka's instincts on Jet, she doesn't decide to deliberately ignore the northern watertribe's customs on bending.

The worst part for natla specifically is that the writers seem to understand that certain moments in the show need to happen, but they don't understand why. Katara needs to fight Pakku because she's so angry about the northern watertribe's sexism, this ties in to Sokka's sexism earlier in the season. She went through the trouble of traveling all the way to the north, stealing a waterbending scroll, getting burned by Aang on accident to discover her healing abilities, and now she's being told she can't train to fight simply because she's a girl? She's been confronted with sexism her whole life and she knows she's capable of more, so she's done succumbing to it, she fights the patriarchy by fighting Pakku. In natla she fights him too, but her anger lies solely with Pakku not willing to teach her, and not with sexism as a whole. She didn't fight that whole season in natla in order to learn waterbending, she just simply trained a bit and got better because boys told her she was strong, so there's no anger for her to feel towards Pakku because there's no buildup. The writers know the Pakku fight needs to happen but they removed everything in the story that leads to Katara fighting Pakku.

A similar thing happens with certain side characters. The writers understand that Teo and The Mechanist are important characters, and we need to add them so we can have them show up for the invasion too. But they don't understand what their purpose was in the original show in the first place, which was character development for Aang. Similar with Jet, he was there for Sokka's character, this episode showed us Sokka is intuitive and intelligent, but doesn't get taken seriously because he's the goofy nonbender older brother. That also gets removed in natla, because Sokka doesn't even interact with Jet more than once. He doesn't even get told Jet's name at all!

This is the biggest writing flaw that is recurring throughout the whole first season of natla, and probably won't be solved in the next seasons. I've seen a lot of people say natla is good because they got more things right than tla, but imo natla is just as bad as tla with similar reasons. Just because the costumes looked more like the original, or because they added more things that happened in the original than the movie did, does not mean natla is good whatsoever. I'd argue it kind of even makes it worse, because natla shows the trouble these people went through to have more accuracy than the shyamalan movie, and yet they still missed the mark this badly. I'm honestly angrier at this live action than the movie, and I might not be the only one.