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prettiedup · 1 day ago

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5.2k ♡

—> gojo x blk!reader, mean!gojo, spoiled!reader, dominant!gojo, dirty talk, pet names [daddy, princess, baby], oral f&m, squirting, creampie

Prissy. That word has been thrown towards you your whole life. It had been spoken towards you so much that you had grown to love it. Though, when you were younger, the word filled you with a rage that made tears well in your eyes. You had hated being called it, especially from your aunties and cousins.

From your perspective, you were simply trying to blend in with the ones you were close in age to. Whenever your parents brought you along it felt as if your family's mood deducted. The other children would roll their eyes when you reached for their barbies, even though you all were told to share. They would criticize your choice of clothes, saying you were too dressed up for something basic like a family cookout.

You would express your frustrations to your mother the following night while she gelled and styled your hair into a style of her choosing. The overly sweet strawberry scent clung to your hair, lingering despite your repeated protests of displeasure. Your hands fiddled with your doll’s hair as you recalled the behavior your family presented towards you. Whenever they were super nasty, tears clouded.

As you got older, like an oversized hand me down, you grew into the word. Tears didn’t form anymore. You began to own the word rather than revolting away from it.

Your parents always made sure you looked presentable before you stepped out of the house, no matter where you were going. That habit stuck to you even, even now as you travel through adulthood.

Once you hit your teenage years, you began getting your nails done with an extended length instead of a natural look. Your hair was no longer styled in just braids; you could now try a plethora of styles your father had once labeled ‘too grown for a child’. It was the minor things that marked your transition to womanhood. Not to mention your parents provided you with whatever you wanted. No matter the cost, you got it.

You’re adjusted to being pampered and everything falling into place the way you want it to.

So when it doesn’t, of course you become temperamental.

“That attitude shit doesn’t work on me, baby. You know that.” Satoru nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders as he looks over at you.

You usually enjoy cuddling with him, your arms and leg draped over his own while your head rests on either his shoulder or his chest. But he declined something you had been wanting to do with him for a while, you couldn’t help but get an attitude in response. Childishly, you pushed yourself away from him and turned your back to him, making sure to scoot as far away as possible.

Minutes of silence stretch between the two of you, the air thick with unspoken tension. You sit motionless, your back turned to him, determined not to acknowledge his presence. Each passing second feels heavier than the last, yet you refuse to be the one to break. The quiet amplifies everything—the sound of your breathing, the slight rustle of fabric, and the faint ticking of a clock in the background.

Every so often, you feel Satoru’s heavy hand patting you, a gentle yet persistent attempt to get your attention. His touch lingers just long enough to send a shiver down your spine, but you remain resolute, keeping your focus anywhere but on him. You know he’s waiting for you to crack, to give in and meet his playful gaze, but your stubbornness has taken hold. Still, the warmth of his hand and the quiet patience in his actions tug at the edges of your resolve, daring you to falter.

“C’mere.” His sultry voice has you squeezing your legs together. You pretend to not hear him and continue shielding your body away from him. “Baby.” He tries one more time to get your attention.

When he realizes you’re not budging he realizes he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands. He stands up and walks over to your side of the bed. Your heart thumps in your chest as you shakily hold your breath, waiting for his next move.

A gasp escapes from your mouth when the duvet is suddenly flung off of your body and a strong hand grips your ankle. Your world spins, one second you’re lying by the headboard, and the very next you’re sliding down to the edge of the bed.

Your brown eyes slowly rake up, meeting your lover’s crystal blue eyes that are already staring down at you. Nervously, you look away from him choosing to look at a random spot on the wall. Seeing the continued petty action, he grabs your other ankle and spreads your legs to a V shape, he uses the space to stand in between them. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach has you letting out a shaky breath when he presses his lower abdomen against you.

“Why you actin’ like this?” Satoru asks with a lazy head tilt. When he realizes you’re choosing not to look at him he leans down and grips your jaw, forcing you to reconnect eye contact with him. “Answer me.”

You take in his disheveled appearance. His silvery white hair is an unkempt mess, as if each piece decided to go in its own direction. Some stuck to his forehead, somehow making him look even more handsome. His lidded eyes, still heavy with the haze from not too long ago waking up from an afternoon nap.

Despite his relaxed posture, there’s a simmering irritation beneath the surface, evident in the way he’s flexing his jaw in quiet frustration. Your gaze drifts lower to his bare, defined upper body. There are a few marks and scars but there is nothing large enough to take away from the sexiness of his physique. The muscles on his arms are evident, the definition in them apparent even when he’s not flexing. His torso is carved precisely, the defined ridges of his 8-pack that are impossibly perfect, with a tiny, singular mole sitting on top as if nature had marked its favorite spot.

Your eyes linger on the way his gray sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips, barely held up by the loose knot at his waistband. Everything about him, from his unintentional beauty to his undeniable presence, feels effortlessly magnetic, even in his most unguarded moments.

A lifts your head up, placing your attention on him once again. “So you’re deaf now?” He questions.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore your clit that’s beginning to throb with want. You could feel the fabric of your panties getting stuck to your pussy from how wet you were beginning to get. You were supposed to be upset, not horny! But it was so difficult with how he was looking down at you, and the way he gripped your jaw, demanding your attention.

His eyes rake over your body. You’re wearing a skims top that hugs every crescent on your body. Your nipples loudly press against the fabric practically begging for his attention. With your legs spread, he could see the cute, pink, lace panties that cling onto your hips. Your voluminous curly hair that’s styled with a side part and streaked with honey brown, clings cutely to your face, though a few rebellious pieces venture off in their own direction, all of it ties together to add a feminine charm to you.

His frustration simmers down, instead horniness starts coursing through his body. Seeing those full lips pressed into a stubborn pout has his dick growing hard. He was so hooked onto you, you could practically do nothing but breathe in his direction and he found himself riled up. He’s shamelessly addicted to you, even when you’re acting like a brat.

In honesty, he loved when you acted like this. When you got in these moods cause nothing was going your way, so you would pout and cross your arms. When you would get snappy with him and press his buttons. It always resulted in you teary eyed, and apologizing for getting out of line.

“Don’t talk then. Stand up.” He drops your ankles and backs away, giving you space to stand up. Instead you sit up and just sit there with your arms crossed. “You really gonna make me make you stand up? The more you act like this the harder your punishment is going to be.”

You stare up at him and shrug your shoulders, doing your best to put on a careless act. Your heart is thumping with excitement and your mind’s racing with possible scenarios of what your punishment is going to be like.

You have to stifle the airy gasp threatening to let out as he suddenly yanks you up by your forearm. His grip is firm, but not rough, and without another word, he leads you to the oversized mirror that sits in the corner of your shared room. You should have resisted more, but curiosity got the best of you, clouding any thoughts of protest.

As you near the mirror, its grand presence stands tall. The reflecting surface displays almost all of the decorations in the room. You still remember Satoru’s face when you admitted the mirror cost over thousands of dollars. He fussed that he could have found something better for cheaper. And yet here it stood, silently bearing witness to whatever it was he had planned.

Your eyes roam over the reflection of the two of you in the mirror, marveling at the contrast that somehow fits so perfectly together. Your skin, shades darker than his, complements the striking paleness of his, creating a harmony that feels almost magnetic. Your body is curvaceous and soft, a loud but beautiful contrast to his lean and sculpted build.

Your gaze shifts to the stretch marks on your thighs, faint yet undeniable reminders of your journey, marks he’s taught you to embrace and flaunt with pride. His height easily dwarfs yours, a difference that makes you feel small in the best way—protected, cherished, and undeniably his. The way his presence envelops yours in the reflection makes your heart race, a quiet reminder of just how well you two fit together.

“Still don’t wanna talk?” He tries to reason with you one last time. And when you shake your head ‘no’, a crude chuckle comes from him. Effortlessly, he pushes you down onto your knees, the motion so smooth it feels almost natural. The plush, white, fur beneath you greets your skin like a gentle embrace, its softness cushioning you in a way that feels oddly comforting. The warmth of the texture spreads through you, grounding you even as your stomach flips with anticipation. A thrill courses through you as the realization settles in—this was heading somewhere you’d both been dancing around for a while.

Lately he’s been busy with building clientele and finding investors for his rising business. Unfortunately for you that meant him sometimes flying out the country, coming home late night after back to back meetings, and waking up to his side of the bed empty. You understood it was for the greater good but in your defense, you missed your man.

Instead of saying it out loud, you found yourself resorting to petty acts to grab his attention. Deep down, you knew you should be communicating and expressing your feelings like an adult, but you weren’t quite at that level of maturity yet. It’s not that you weren’t trying—you were—but you hadn’t fully mastered it just yet.

You knew you were crossing lines, you just didn’t care.

“You know what to do.” Satoru gestures.

You look up at him while crossing your arms stubbornly. He smacks his teeth when he realizes you were going to continue to be defiant. “So fuckin’ bad.” He groans. He grips the back or your head, while his other hand gently cups the lower half of your face, his touch is firm yet careful, holding you in a way that feels both possessive and tender.

His thumb presses against the middle of your lips, forcing your lips to open and make space for it. He rests his thumb on the middle of your tongue for a few seconds. “Get it wet.” He demands.

After minutes of being intransigent, you decide to finally be good for him. You wrap your mouth around his thumb, and slowly bob your head back and forth. You gather up spit, letting it form around his entire thumb. Your eyes fly open when forcefully removes his thumb from your mouth.

Satoru’s hand fiddles with his sweatpants for a brief second before he successfully gets it untied. He pulls both his briefs and sweatpants down to his ankles at the same time. You feel your wetness dripping even more when his dick springs out. He’s quite lengthy. You’ve always told him that his dick was so pretty. The tip is an angry shade of red with beads of precum rolling down. He always kept his hair trimmed, never letting it get too untamed. A singular brown mole sits on his skin with a prominent vein traveling from the base to almost the tip.

With the hand that’s still cupping the back of your head, he guides your head backwards so that you could capture his dick in your mouth. He rubs the tip against your lips watching as his precum spreads across your lips.

“Open.”

Your mouth opens as wide as possible and the heaviness from his dick is placed onto your tongue. He begins guiding your head up and down on just the tip of his dick. Your eyes stay zoned in on his face. He carries a relaxed demeanor, though his eyebrows are slightly furrowed. His teeth press into his bottom lip, and when your eyes meet, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth—subtle, but enough to make your heart race.

Slowly, he begins pushing his hips forward. His dick goes deeper into your mouth until it hits the back of your mouth. Instantly, your eyes begin to water in response. He draws his hips back and does it repeatedly. Your spit coats the rest of his length, getting as much lubricant on it as your mouth can muster.

A deep groan escapes from his throat as he spreads his legs a little more and lets go of the hold on his dick. The tempo changes and he begins fucking your mouth faster. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to keep your mouth as wide as possible. He slides his other hand to the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he pulls you closer. The movement is deliberate, his presence overwhelming as the distance between you disappears. With his hands restricting your head from moving backwards, you have absolutely no choice but to take the rough fucking.

Spit escapes from the sides of your mouth and drips down your neck. Every time he would push too far down your throat you would sputter and gag but that didn’t stop him. Feeling your throat constrict around his sensitive tip only pushed out strangled moans from Satoru.

“Didn’t wanna use your mouth for talking. Imma use it for something else.” His voice is uneven as pleasure courses through his veins. Even while being face fucked and spit seeping onto your face, you’re still so fucking sexy. “Open your fucking eyes. Look at me while I fuck your mouth.” Satoru orders. His voice is an octave deeper than usual.

You loved pushing him to this point, riling Satoru up just enough to crack that cool, charismatic front he always wore so effortlessly. There was something thrilling about knowing exactly how to make him lose his composure, to drive him right to the edge where his restraint faltered, and he teetered on the brink of being downright mean to you. It was a dangerous game, but one you couldn’t help but play.

Your teary eyes open. You look up with a look of admiration that has his dick throbbing even more. His mouth is now open with airy huffs escaping past his lips. His pale skin has blemishes of pink forming in various spots on his body. Even more strands of his silvery hair cling to his forehead, damp with the faint sheen of sweat that’s beginning to form.

Satoru suddenly removes his hands from your hair. “Suck this dick.” He tells you. He watches as your hand forms a circle around his base. Your lips wrap around his tip, you suction your cheeks as you bob your head.

You stare up at him while you suck his dick. You try to look as pretty as possible but it probes to futile when you gag and spit bubbles from your mouth. Tears run down your face connecting with the spit.

“So pretty, baby.” He coos at you. “I know that pussy’s dripping. Let me see you touch it.” He groans.

You quickly drop your hand and begin deepthroating him. His heavy balls slap against your chin every time you hit the base. Your hand blindly reaches for the fabric of your panties. You rub small circles on your clit, the feeling not doing a lot, but doing just enough to get you worked up.

Satoru watches you through the mirror. The two of you looked so sexy. He felt a strong temptation to grab his phone from your shared king-size bed and record a video, the thought lingering in his mind for a brief second. Spit stained your shirt, some even managed to drip down onto the rug. Your hair was becoming unkempt and spiraling into different directions. All of these things added to your allure somehow.

“Fuck, baby. Stand up. I need to taste that pussy.” His tone was desperate as he stepped back watching his dick slide out of your mouth with a messy pop. Spit glistened on his dick and your lips. He was tempted to just stick it in your pussy, but the thought of devouring you was too heavy on his mind to ignore.

You stand up while Satoru shuffles his sweatpants and briefs completely off before he kneels down behind you. You bend over in front of the mirror watching as your lover dives face first into your dripping pussy.

He doesn’t bother taking off of your panties just yet. Instead, he begins lapping at the fabric that has collected all of your wetness. A strung moan escapes his mouth. He shamelessly laps at the wet spot that your pussy has caused. The taste of you floods his senses, his dick throbs and releases more precum that falls onto the rug.

You’re a gasping mess. You try to keep up your brat act, but from the way he’s licking your pussy, you know that you’re going to cave in quicker than you thought.

“Please.” You whimper out.

Satoru briefly pauses, not expecting to hear your voice. “Hm? What was that baby?”

“Please.” You repeat. He looks at you through the oversized mirror. His eyes are shades darker and blown with lust. “Wanna feel your tongue in my pussy.”

“Oh, now you choose to talk.” Satoru chuckles. His hands cusp your ass cheeks and spread them, watching as your panties press against the lips of your pussy. “Beg some more.”

You’re shameless as you begin begging for some sort of friction. “Please, daddy. I want your tongue to dig in my pussy.” Your pleading continues until he suddenly moves your panties to the side and suctions his mouth around your clit. A shattered, excited cry escapes, trembling with raw intensity, as if the emotion was too overwhelming to contain.

His arms wrap around your thighs so that he has better grip. Satoru deliriously presses his face into your pussy, his mouth going into overdrive to make you feel good while he selfishly noses your musky scent. You smelled so fucking good. He could feel himself becoming even more addicted to the taste and smell of you.

“So fuckin’ bratty.” He comments. The words are muffled due to him barely giving himself enough time or space before he’s driving his tongue right back against your clit. A large hand comes striking across one of your ass cheeks.

You stand on your tiptoes briefly, in a weak attempt to escape the overbearing pleasure your eager lover was providing to you. He quickly presses you back down and wraps his arms around your thighs tighter. “‘M sorry, toru.” You whine.

“So mean t’me, baby.” He huffs. His voice sends vibrations against your bud. His tongue makes a line to your leaking pussy. Before diving his tongue into your hole, he collects your wetness onto his tongue and gulps. Once he deems that he’s had enough, his tongue plunges deep into your pussy. A loud series of moans usher out of you.

“Oh my—fuck!” You cry. Your back arches deeper as you begin shifting your hips.

He detaches his face from your mound. “This isn’t enough.” Satoru groans. He stands up, coming to his full towering height. “Want you to sit on my face.” He tells you. He grabs your hand and leads you to the bed.

He lays down first, and the gestures for you to come over. You take off your panties before stepping onto the bed. You bite down on your lip as you stand on the bed, you position yourself until you’re hovering over his awaiting lips. He grabs at your hips, pulling you down onto his face. His tongue goes back to fucking your hole that littered with both your wetness and his spit.

You look down, the both of you making eye contact. You love the way his icy blue eyes captivate you from this angle, piercing and intense. With the rest of his face concealed, his gaze commands all of your focus, as if nothing else in the world exists but those mesmerizing eyes.

“Gonna stop giving you attitude.” You moan.

He only hums under you. His eagerness to provide pleasure towards you only makes your excitement rise.

“Ride m’face.”

You begin shifting your hips, your eyes flutter shut as you get caught up in the feeling of your lover’s mouth. His hand shifts to grip at your cheeks, he spreads them open for better access.

Your breathing becomes labored as the tell tale signs of your growing orgasm comes to play. Your hand goes down to his hair where you begin pulling on the strands. Satoru completely relaxes his face and lets you use him to your content. Moans are seeping from both of your mouths along with a few curse words.

“You’re so h-handsome, baby. I love riding your face.” The words sound foreign coming out of your mouth. It had been a building process with Satoru teaching you how to increase your dirty talk in bed. You were truthfully grateful, because now it feels like once you start you can not stop.

Satoru moans at your vulgar words. Hearing you talk like this only turned him on more. He gives your ass a few lazy slaps in response. His dick is absolutely throbbing, practically begging for any sort of attention. He slurps loudly on your pussy. Your wetness coates half of his face, he could feel the stickiness forming on his jaw and cheeks.

“Gonna cum, baby.” You warn him. Your hips speed up as you can feel the impending pressure on your lower stomach. His eyes stare up at you, watching every facial expression that comes across your pretty face.

His tongue glides back to your clit. He uses only the tip to trace his name onto your pussy, enjoy the way your body shudders and your breathing becomes more labored. Your orgasm comes full force when his mouth suctions around your clit.

“Toru, daddy—ngh! ‘M cumming!”

Loud moans come from deep in your chest. Your hold on his hair becomes tighter as you twitch and tremble. Your pussy shoots out like an intense jet, and like the greedy man Satoru is, he laps it all up.

Even when your orgasm is done, he continues to slurp and suck up all of your nectar until you can’t take it anymore and forcefully detach your mound away from his glistened lips.

You collapse lazily onto the bed, landing on your back with an exhausted sigh. Your body feels heavy, and you lie there stiffly, struggling to steady your uneven breathing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as your eyes flutter closed, fatigue washing over you like a comforting wave.

The room goes silent until you feel Satoru shift towards you. Suddenly, your legs are being spread and lifted to your shoulders. Your eyes fly open, obviously not expecting for him to want to go again so quickly.

“Baby.” You whine watching as he rubs his dick against your pussy, collecting remains of your wetness to lubricate the tip of his dick.

“Shut up.” Satoru’s tone has a stream of your nectar dripping out of you. Slowly, he presses his tip inside of you, stretching you out deliciously. The both of you are focused on where the two of you connect. Moans escape past both of your lips as you both adjust to feeling each other.

“Didn’t want to talk then, don’t fuckin’ talk now.” He tells you roughly. Even when he’s being mean to you, he still only starts with slow, soft strokes to get you adjusted to all inches of him.

Your mouth opens without you realizing it, he takes that as an opportunity to sink his index finger in your mouth. He watches expectantly as you close your mouth around the digit, getting it wet and nasty like how he likes it. He removes the wet finger from your mouth and places it onto your swollen clit.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” You try to reason with him.

“Mhm.” He ignores your weak attempts of apologizing and instead focuses on watching your pussy cream around him.

He speeds up, entranced by how his dick disappears and reappears moments later. He knows he’s not going to last long so he decides to go all in. He needs to make sure you manage to cum before he does.

The sound of your skin connecting, and the both of you moaning to each other filled the room. Your eyes trail over his chiseled torso once again, unable to help yourself. No matter how many times you’ve seen him, you can’t get over just how irresistibly sexy your lover is.

When you first met Satoru, he seemed like a no-nonsense type of person. Beneath that playful, goofy exterior, there was an unspoken firmness that followed him everywhere. It was in the way he carried himself, a quiet confidence that demanded respect without needing to ask for it. His words, though light and teasing at times, carried an underlying authority that was impossible to ignore.

Despite that, he’s always handled you with such care, as though you were something fragile and precious. There was a deliberate gentleness in the way he spoke to you, in the way his hands would brush against yours, or the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. It was that perfect balance—firm yet tender—that made you trust him completely.

“Daddy, you’re stretching your pussy out so good.” You whine.

“I know, baby. Pussy jus’ keeps creaming and creaming.” He rests his hands on the back of your thighs. “Lemme see you play with those titties.” He watches as you make quick work of pulling your shirt up, exposing your hardened, dark areolas to him. Your manicured fingers begin rubbing and pinching at them. You let out quiet moans, the added sensation has you trembling even more.

“Pinch them too, baby. Fuck—yeah, just like that. You’re so fucking sexy.” Satoru coos at you. “You like when I fuck you deep like this?” He asks, giving you calculated deep, rough thrusts.

The tip of his dick constantly hits the spot that has your eyes rolling backwards. “Love it, baby.” You groan.

His grip on your thighs becomes firmer as he speeds up, giving you fast, hard strokes. His heavy balls slap against your ass every time he pushes his hips forward. “Use a hand to rub that pussy, baby.” He tells you.

You obey, one of your hands snakes down to your glistening pussy and begins rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs begin to quiver as you try to match your movements to Satoru’s.

“Ngh! Fuck!” Your pussy begins clenching and unclenching around his dick. “I’m about to cum!” You exclaim.

As you try to prepare yourself for the powerful orgasm that’s about to happen, it all abruptly comes to an end. Your eyes quickly land on Satoru who’s looking down at you.

“Apologize like you mean it,” he says, his tone heavy with mockery, a taunting smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Ohmy—” Your complaint is cut off by Satoru slapping the back of your thigh. A soft whine escapes from you, unbidden and laced with frustration. “I’m sorry.” You breathe. There’s a bit of an attitude layered within your words.

He rubs himself against your opening, teetering on the edge of pushing himself back inside. “That doesn’t sound sincere, princess.”

You could feel yourself growing upset with his teasing. Tears cloud your eyes, you are seconds away from having the most intense orgasm you have had in weeks, and he decides to just—stop.

“I said I was sorry like thirty times!” you exclaim, your tone a mix of exasperation and desperation.

“I said it didn’t sound sincere.” Satoru can see the tell tale signs of you being pushed to your limit and he loved it. You couldn’t have possibly believed you were going to give him a nasty attitude and then expect for him to be cordial with you after.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for acting bratty. So so sorry.” You whine, hoping pitifully that your apologizing would now work. “Please accept my apology,” You plead with him. “Please, daddy.”

“You gonna go back to being my good girl?” He asks cautiously. His dick spreads your pussy open as he slowly pushes his hips forward. “Hm?”

“Yes! Yess! ‘M gonna go be so good for you.” You nod your head rapidly.

“You promise, baby?” He asks, still tauntingly moving at a snail’s pace.

“I promise.” You sob out when he finally sheaths his entire length back inside of your awaiting mound. The stretch, the sensation, hearing him let out curse words, everything has you back on the brink of your long deserved orgasm.

Your fingers rub your clit once again. You continue at your previous pace using the same fast circle technique to help you finish.

He doesn’t miss a beat, picking up right where he left off and moving even faster, as if he had never paused in the first place. His intensity is unwavering, leaving you struggling to keep up, yet you can’t help but marvel at his relentless determination. His focus sharp, his movements purposeful, and his presence utterly consuming. Each moment feels like it builds on the last, leaving no room to catch your breath or gather your thoughts.

“Baby.” You whine. It hits you like a train, sudden and overwhelming, leaving no time to prepare. Your breath catches in your chest, locked there as if stolen, and your entire body freezes up, unable to respond. The intensity floods through you, immobilizing you in its grip, leaving you powerless to do anything but feel its full force.

Satoru loudly moans at the feeling of you clenching and unclenching around him. “Fuck, yes.” He groans watching as a stream of clear liquid shoots from out of you. It messily covers the both of you, getting all over your thighs, some even managing to land on your stomach, it hits Satoru’s pelvis area like a fountain.

“So perfect, baby. My turn. ‘Mma nut all in this pretty pussy.”

His own orgasm is triggered by yours, he stops his moving as he prepares for the thick load that travels theough his dick. A strained moan escapes past his lips as he begins filling your pussy up with his thick cum. His balls relax and tighten in a repeated pattern until all of the cum is drained and into you.

With a tired sigh, Satoru pulls out. His cum immediately rushes out, getting all over the white comforter.

You tiredly place your legs down, exhaustion eats at you, begging for you to indulge in it.

“Gimme a kiss.” Satoru tells you as he lays beside you. Your mouths work together to build up a messy makeout that lasts longer than either of you expected.

“I’m sorry for being so bratty.” You apologize once again, this time your voice softer, carrying a weight of sincerity and awareness that wasn’t there before. Each word feels deliberate, an earnest attempt to make things right.

“You know you’re already forgiven. Don’t do that ignoring shit again though.” He warns you before placing a soft kiss on your nose.

#prettiedup ♡#prettiedup’s jjk fics .ᐟ satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x black reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo smut

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coffee-mage-sans-caffeine · 1 day ago

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Antivaxxers are not responsible* for the current pertussis outbreak. In fact, rich countries are! Here's how:

Whooping Cough, also called pertussis is back in a big way in the US right now. Other nations are also seeing outbreaks, particularly 'rich' or 'first world' or 'developed' nations. Wait what? Rich countries are having a bigger increase in whooping cough than countries with limited healthcare infrastructure? You're probably thinking 'ah, it's the antivaxxers, isn't it?' While they're contributing to the problem, but no, they're not in fact THE PROBLEM. In fact, even fully vaccinated people in rich countries are at risk for pertussis. The first thing to understand is that there are two 'generations' of pertussis vaccine available at present. Both are given in combination with tetanus and diphtheria vaccines. As far as I know, tetanus, diphtheria and pertussis are given together in every mainstream formulation of pertussis vaccine globally. The OG (first gen) pertussis vaccine was the DTP vaccine which contains a whole cell inactivated pertussis bacteria so when it is given, the body develops a robust immune response to every antigen (the thing your body can learn to make antibodies to recognise) on the surface of the pertussis bacteria. It is still used in countries where money is tight because it's cheaper to make and the immune response is robust and long-lasting--5-10 years depending on your source. Unfortunately, side effects were higher with the OG. Some children spike high fevers causing febrile seizures (which are terrifying even though they're benign), arm pain is more intense, and people feel worse after getting it. A miniscule number of children given the OG suffer encephalitis and more serious neurological effects, though most cases self-resolve. In rich countries, as the incidence of pertussis (and diphtheria and tetanus) fell with robust vaccination programs, people became more and more afraid of the side effects of the DTP vaccine. Those side effects sound scarier when there's lower risk of pertussis. There were also ever-growing antivaccine movements because since there has been inoculation (a precursor medical practice to vaccination that goes back all the way to ancient China) there have been opponents inoculation and vaccination. Antivaxxers are not new and modern. They have always been there and they were PISSED about the encephalitis. So both antivaxxers and provaxxers who were starting to forget how scary it is to watch a baby with pertussis said 'we need a better option'. This brings us to 2nd gen vaccines, the acellular pertussis vaccines DTaP and Tdap. The little a stands for 'acellular', meaning that there is no longer a whole dead bacteria cell as our antigen. We use specific cut-up antigens instead. Most formulations use 3-5 different antigens. This results in much lower side effects! Immunity without side effects is the goal! The problem is that this vaccine doesn't last as long. In fact, for 0-10 year old children, 98% are immune at 1 year after vaccination while 81% are immune at 5 years after vaccination. For 11-20 year olds, those numbers drop to 72% at one year and 42% at 5 years after vaccination. For people who are older, those numbers drop even faster. And the acellular vaccines aren't as good at preventing infection--they're more like the covid vaccines in that rather than stopping infection, they make the symptoms less bad. And those 3-5 antigens in the acellular vaccine are becoming less common on the surface of the bordatella pertussis bacteria. Yup. It's out-evolving the vaccine. So where does this leave us? 1) Make sure your pertussis vaccine is up to date. This protects you against the effects of a very serious illness. 2) If you have been exposed to pertussis TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR ABOUT PROPHYLACTIC ANTIBIOTICS. After an hour in a room with someone who has pertussis, if your body doesn't have sufficient immunity there's up to a 90% chance of you getting it and you will be sick for months. This is one of the ONLY CASES EVER where you should be getting prophylactic antibiotics. Usually, I would say do not get prophylactic antibiotics. This is a special case.

3) If a third gen vaccine comes out (many are in development), update your pertussis shot! 4) IF YOU FEEL SICK AND HAVE A COUGH, STAY HOME. If you cannot stay home, then you should wear a well-fitted disposable n95, kn95, or surgical mask (in order of preference) at all times around other people. 5) Mask in crowded public spaces and on airplanes even if you feel well.

#pertussis #bordatella pertussis #tw sick kids #tw death #vaccines #get vaccinated

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yandere-sins · 21 hours ago

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Hi! I just currently discovered your works and I love it! Can you do a story where a serial killer (any fictional character you want, as long as it's not real people) who has gotten married to the y/n's mom but he's so obsessed with his new step-daughter the first time they met. The ending's up to you.

Hey! Thank you so much for reading my stories and requesting ♥ Took me some time to think of something, and I won't do a specific character, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

A long time ago, he chose to go down this path.

The decision had to be made; any waver in his resolve would have resulted in him getting caught and locked up for life. Sometimes, it was nice to be with the humans that would end up dead; sometimes, it was merely business. There were some pleasures to take from these gullible idiots. Money, sex, opportunities.

Businesswomen, housewives, lonely singles, and, if he had to, men just as much. They only sought the warmth of a lover, someone who truly understood them. And why would he not accept their gratitude and gifts for so little work as rubbing their back and telling them how special they were? It made them feel better most of the time and him richer, as their gratitude almost always ended in gifts.

And in their contentment, they didn't see the knife that was about to sink into their back as soon as they weren't useful to him anymore.

As soon as their money ran out, the gifts died down, and they started to become suspicious of him; he'd make sure to skip town after burying his latest lover in a ditch. He never met their friends, never saw what the life of his victims was, and especially: he didn't love them.

Oftentimes, he wondered, late at night, after yet another kill, what it was like to be loved and to love. His victims always looked so happy and content, hanging off his arm and whispering the magic words to him at night. What he did wasn't right, but why did it matter when he never got caught? As long as he could live in the lap of luxury that he could never achieve through honest work, he didn't really need much else.

But he was getting old.

Too old to sugar-baby his way through life, at least, too much on par in terms of age now with his victims. It physically hurt him to have to be extra careful in the future when killing random strangers. It would never give him the satisfaction or the looks of betrayal that left him all hot and bothered. But now was the last time he could find someone willing to finance his life, and giving up his prolific murder spree was better than spending the rest of his damnation in a dirty, old motel room with nothing to do.

Thus, his way of life ended. A serial killer turned houseman and loverboy to a very successful CEO and mother. Thanks to his charms, the wedding went through much faster than expected, and soon enough, with a credit card linked to her bank account and well-situated in the luxury home of his now-wife, everything could have stayed like this for a long, long time.

Until you showed up.

You were a blessing and a curse in the form of an adult stepchild. It was weird meeting the family of his victim for the first time. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his mouth began to water, pupils blown wide to spy every inch of deliciousness that you swept through the front door to his home. And despite spikes of murderous desires making his body shake uncontrollably, even more prevalent was the twisting and churning of his heart as it beat viciously against his ribs, blood rushing through his whole body and especially between his legs.

All evening long, he couldn't stop smiling at you. He sat across from you like a silly little teenage boy, nodding and listening to everything you told your mom, words dripping off your lips like honey that he wished to lick up. However, he merely did the next best thing, offering to take care of the dishes so he could lick your plate clean and steal your cutlery to enjoy later. He sat with you long into the night on the couch as you told him about yourself; you two had never met before since the wedding was such a rushed affair, and you were the trust fund child sent to an international college for your studies. There was so much to catch up on and get acquainted with.

If only he had met you sooner.

The time together was short, so he suggested all kinds of family vacations, telling his wife it was totally okay if she couldn't make it, and he'd spend time with you and bond. All was in his favor, and every second spent with you was the happiest of his life. For years, he thought that only riches and luxuries could satisfy him—but not anymore.

He had to have you.

No matter what he had to do, fate had already been decided. There was simply no way to not be with you. Slipping into your bed at night and touching you as much as possible just wasn't enough. Stealing your underwear and imagining you on your knees while he used the fabric on himself didn't quell his urges completely. Not even when he imagined you while pleasing his wife was enough, and neither was smelling you every day and pressing up to you innocently in the kitchen or hanging out with you. You going back to another country to continue your studies? Impossible. It would have killed him.

And then, the painfully put aside urges arose. The ones that screamed for blood and gore, torture, and the satisfaction of witnessing someone's last breath. He had already established himself in your life, and you liked him enough that were you to lose someone dear to you... would you run to him?

The question was just a hypothesis, but one that had him rock hard and twitching as he stared at the ceiling at night, feeling his wife—your mother—in his arm, sighing contently. What was her testament like? Would there be enough to live happily ever after with you? Would you accept your stepdad as more than just a superficial family member? Would you let him hold you? Kiss you? Lick you? Make you scream and sob?

Would you allow him to drag you into hell with him, even though he'd make it seem like heaven?

It had always been his way of doing things. Pretend to be someone perfect, pleasant, and loveable, when really, he was this cruel, pathetic monster. But a long time, he chose to go down this path of embracing the beast, and sitting up in his bed, he remembered still holding onto the table knife you used on the first day you returned home. It would be awful, downright gruesome, to be killed by her own daughter's knife, wouldn't it? Your mom would feel so betrayed by being stabbed in the middle of the night; it would be heart-wrenching and devastating.

Absolutely exhilarating.

Why change something that had always worked for him?

By tomorrow morning, you would be his.

#yandere #yandere stepdad #yandere x reader #yandere!stepdad #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere tw #yandere fanfiction #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere drabbles #yandere oneshot #yandere stories #yandere writing #yandere imagines

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runningupthatvecna · 2 days ago

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the law of seat partners | the sequel

eddie munson x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: your grand return to Hawkins after your little field trip isn't exactly what you pictured it as, since your new boyfriend wants you all to himself. like, immediately. 9k.

cw: new relationship, this eddie still has abandonment issues and lets you see them, a tinge of angst that quickly gets resolved, 18+ smut mdni, car sex, softdom!eddie because he's my weakness, eddie is very ... talkative (meaning if you don't like dirty talk, this really isn't for you) and also a little pervy but we don't mind, unprotected vp, cumming inside, soft aftercare, lots of fluff, reader has a vulnerability kink bc i said so. this is straight up filth because eddie is down baaaaad and these two just went from cinnamon in part 4 to feral and unhinged real quick, whoops. both reader and eddie are at least 20, reader's appearance is mostly unspecified except being afab, no use of y/n.

a/n: i couldn't let these two off the hook just like that so this is a sequel to my most prized law of seat partners, but can also be read as a stand-alone. would recommend reading the whole thing though for more context since the build-up to this will probably be worth it .. yeehaw. also this took me for-fucking-ever because life was lifeing so hard and bc english isn't my first language i got upset 583 times at myself for not knowing more diverse vocab. anywho, i so appreciate everyone reading, reblogging, leaving comments and all that sweet stuff, your words mean the world to me ok love you all byeeee <3 if you see any typos, no you didn't.

lovely divider by strangergraphics-archive

The parking lot was filled with cars, cars, parents sitting in said cars, more parents and more cars.

Heavy rain with clouds hanging as low as everyone's mood welcomed you back, and you hadn't missed it in the slightest.

Fumbling for your car keys in your bag to make your transition from bus to another roof over your head as smooth and dry as possible, you sighed as you looked out the window for a few seconds as the bus came to its final halt.

For the last hour or so, Eddie's (still very warm) hand had been resting on your bare thigh, slightly calloused fingertips rubbing up and down softly every now and then, a silent reminder of what was running through his mind like an unstoppable train.

It had been building ever since he had woken up next to your sleep-doused body in the early morning, display of softness dancing over the slivers of skin he'd gotten a first taste of – which, if he was honest, only amplified this seemingly insatiable urge to be close to you in him tenfold – unallowed to take things back to where you'd left them the night before.

Mainly due to a lack of time, but also: privacy.

And your (re-clothed) exit after dawn had left him high (on oxytocin) and literally dry, destined to spend the last few hours at the camp inhaling breakfast and chaotically throwing his belongings into his bag again, all with only one thing on his mind, and it was far from new.

You.

You, you and your light.

A few kids had left the bus already to go hide under their parents' umbrellas or disappear behind the rear doors of their respective cars, and after waving hasty goodbyes to everyone in the aisle of the bus, Dustin had eagerly climbed the passenger seat of his mom's old mercedes in anticipation, since the two of them had further plans to visit family over the weekend.

Joyce had come to pick up Will and Jonathan, and well, Nancy since she'd let everyone know that she'd be spending the following days at the Byers house, while Robin and Max and Lucas would be driven to their respective residences by mother Steve in his beamer.

Your initial plan had entailed to drive that car of yours home and bury yourself in bed, the time away from each other with the intention to recharge the social batteries being the general consensus of your friend group.

You'd all meet again the following week anyway.

Something you hadn't calculated into that plan though was returning from a trip of this kind with something as foreign to you as a relationship, so naturally, you'd looked at Eddie a bit puzzled when you felt his fingers find yours and sneakily intertwine, palm to slightly smaller palm, as you both stood in the aisle while the bus got emptier, waiting for Harrington and Buckley to yeet their asses out of the back door one final time.

"What?", he inquired about the very prominent question mark on your face at the feeling of him not wanting to let go, "I got word just this morning that the sacred and powerful seat law council has gathered to discuss potential extensions to um, vans, .. in-in case no one told you, yet."

Eddie sheepishly grinned as he remembered your words from last night with a vividness only a dungeon master could have, the mere thought of you in that utterly blissful state he'd been dreaming for so long to fuck you into sent a tinge of want straight to his dick, giving your hand a light squeeze before pushing his black leather jacket into your chest with a ringed hand.

The gesture itself an outpour of affection, a simple reminder that he was looking out for you.

Even if it came down to something as simple as you not getting rain-soaked, and as a result, end up sick in bed.

While observing the pores, lines and muscles in your face closely and interpreting the confusion displayed there – added your obvious speechlessness – as uncertainty, Eddie started wondering if this was the moment in which you were finally realizing the gravity of your decision.

The impact that last night at the camp really, truly had.

"Unless you just want to go home of course and be all by your pretty self .. in peace", he spoke again, big brown doe eyes starting to resemble the shape of full moons as they soulfully pierced through you, "I need you to know though that this circumstance would very much feel like a dagger through the heart and I would most likely perish from the absence–", a nervous chuckle escaped him as he cut himself off, "no seriously, just say a word and I'll let y–"

"Eddie", you interrupted him with a soft reciprocation of his gaze, which he had already expertly averted towards the top of the seat that you were leaning yourself against.

A desperate attempt to avoid you hearing the loud, uneasy thunder processing through his mind.

A sign he was getting in his own head about your hesitation, which wasn't even hesitation in the first place, but to the very convincing irrational anxiety-driven part of his brain, nervous system on full alert preparing for the familiar inevitable, it certainly looked like you were just reevaluating the situation he had soooo selfishly maneuvered you into.

The situation of being seen more frequently now with Hawkins' one and only local head of the freaks. Obnoxious nerd. Too dramatic for his own good, should be avoided at all costs.

Eddie felt a sting in his heart region.

"I'd totally let you go home, I could drive you even, but then you'd have to get your car at some point, or no, wait! I– I could get it for you later mayb–"

"Eddie!"

It was hard for him to look you in the eyes.

Instead, he squeezed his own shut as he cupped the back of your hand that was still entwined with his other and brought all three of them up to press the back of yours against his chest.

His free one softly grabbed and wrapped around your forearm, visibly trying to hold on to you.

In hopes that it would lead to you holding on to him in turn, and prevent the all too painfully familiar default he had learned to accept at a time he was too uncomfortable about to recall for too long.

There was so much body heat seeping through that shirt.

"It's– I mean, it's no big deal if you don't want to be around me any longer than you had to, I would totally get that and I wouldn't even bother you anym–"

"Eddie!"

Boisterous demeanor long gone with you, the doubt in himself creeping back up into his consciousness tugged at your heartstrings.

Your hand squeezed his, softly. One of his eyes carefully opened slightly, corners of his lips pulled back, face squished upwards as if he was awaiting the verdict. You could tell that the boy was even holding his breath.

"Yeah?"

"I couldn't stand to see you perish. What I really, really do want though is spending the weekend with you", you smiled at him with your warm eyes as you slightly leaned further into his space.

Feeling your body closer (you also booped his cute nose), his eyelids fluttered open, face relaxing instantly, his lungs releasing the stored air in a huff.

"Where's this coming from?"

"It's just–", he sighed breathing out through his nose, eyes darting to the ceiling as if he was going to find the courage to open up about his traumatic childhood troubles there, before those full moons returned to you, "you looked a little confused and I .. I miiight have read that as disinterest when I proposed for you to uh, take a seat."

Those warm brown orbs, to die for.

They made you melt once again, swimming in that deep ocean of him for a second before you scrambled for an explanation with a valley between your eyebrows, "oh Eds, that's not at all– that's not what I wanted you to think. I was just in my own head because this?", you paused to gesture the index of your free hand between yourself and him, "is not what I thought was gonna happen. Like, at all", you shook your head, "it’s so new to me and no one's ever been so eager to spend time with me like that, it's just.. it's confusing me out of previous experience, or better said lack thereof, so I just didn't expect this, and I'm sorry it came across as me feeling indifferent or even uninterested, because–because I'm not."

Ding dong, you've reached Eddie's cortex.

"No no, I'm sorry", he paused to take a breath as his head was slightly turned to the side, eyes not quite daring to reciprocate your gaze yet when instead they observed the scenery outside the bus, "I can get a little needy when someone doesn't shove me away from them and my head can be a bit mean to me sometimes."

Gut wrencher.

The internal tug at his confession was overwhelming, urge to kiss all those bad thoughts out of him and away for good creating another wave of awareness for your feelings, hence why you took a deep breath before speaking, "don't ever think you need to apologize for having needs, sweet bean", your thumb with the ring on it swiped over his own before you took a step closer, wrapping your free arm around his back in an attempt to convey your intentions more clearly, "when I said I'm all yours, I meant it."

You'd stay with him. Of course you would. Your Eddie.

His hands squeezed yours again.

"And I'm all yours, always been."

Smiling, you pressed yourself against his body lightly, the urge to be as close to him as physically possible coursing through your entire system, all the way into every single nerve ending your skin encased.

It made the bridge of your nose kiss his jaw and the tip rub up towards his cheek to where you then dipped it.

Taking him in.

Eddie's arms showed their temporary decor, as he allowed his guard to drop and felt the goosebumps spread.

There were so many more things he wanted to let you know. So many things he wanted to tell you, explain to you. He didn't determine the bus aisle to be the perfect location for that conversation, though.

This sweet moment of him allowing your light to shine through the cracks of his armour, filling the few existent gaps between the both of you, adding onto the events of the past few days, made it real difficult for you to go home and leave him to his own devices anyway.

Probably even more so now, back in Hawkins and at home, with no teacherly scrutiny looming around the corner.

"Let's obey the law then, hm?", you let your nose bump against his softly, a surge of hot and heavy feelings for him spreading through your entire system once again as you noticed him observing you intently, before your head nodded towards the exit.

You decided right there and then that you would always make him and his wellbeing your first priority.

Eddie decided right there and then that he couldn't be more madly in love with you.

You made each other feel so seen.

Without letting go of your hand he lead you to his van as you shielded your head with the leather, clutching your bag to your chest while the boy just let his casually dangle down from his shoulder.

It looked like you were pretty much alone in the parking lot now, and since Eddie had noticed this fact as well, he wasted no second longer to have his warm lips back on the skin of your neck and his hands on your cheek and hip with a low, almost relieved sigh from the depths of his chest as he squished you between the wet metal of his van and his hot and very bothered body.

Yours was getting more hot and more bothered by the millisecond.

The memory of the way it had been held by him last night had already recoded every nerve ending.

His soft touch, the care he'd bathed you in.

Skin abundantly ablaze from the thought alone.

Gently attacking your lips next, his arm dropped his bag onto the asphalt carelessly, dark curls already soaking wet due to the rain, hands instantly back on your bare waist underneath your shirt, ringed fingers digging into the plush warm skin as small droplets ran down the bridge of his nose, landing right where the tip of it was nudging your cheek softly.

The need to feel each other again so very prominent in every cell of your being.

And Eddie's, apparently.

Without any care in the world about anything else.

The nudge soon turned into an up and down rub from your jaw to just below your lower eyelid, another pleased and relieved hum escaping his lungs through smiling lips, before they returned to your own, warm and wet and all yours, a little out of breath he broke the kiss then to pull away just enough to be able to speak, "do you want to– fuck, is this okay?"

"Very okay, yeah", you replied instantly, minding that now existent gap between your faces way too much.

Eddie's touch starvation fervently groaned into your mouth as if to say thank you. For letting him be close to you. Do this to you.

Letting him surround your senses, make you feel good, be your anchor when you needed to feel safe.

Yearning incarnate.

A soft squeeze to your hip followed when you lifted his jacket, extending it over his head.

Slotting your lower lip between his again with a whimper, granting his tongue access after your hands had found their way into the mop of his sopping curls, one of them parked in the back of his neck to caress his scalp softly, the other slowly coming around to cradle his wet cheek.

With this sense of urgency, lovingly demonstrated by the bulge in his pants which you could definitely feel, his hips pinned yours against the backdoor, behind his back another empty SUV, parked a meter or so away, shielding both of you from potentially any bypasser's periphery.

Breaking apart for another second, dark brown hues were scanning your face and finding infatuation there, before returning home, goosebumps spreading over your arms now as well, and you could feel your chest tighten at the way he looked you in the eyes, dimples making an adorable appearance.

He was stunning.

So fucking pretty you thought your heart was going to burst if he'd stay close to you like this for just another second.

The hint of stubble that decorated his jaw and chin and the space between nose and lip was now even more visible than last night, because he just hadn't been able to find the nerve to shave this morning either (if he was honest, it was because he hadn't wanted to borrow Steve's razor again just because he'd simply forgotten his own shaving supplies on Wayne's side of the bathroom cabinet in the first place).

Wet rosy cheeks, which you thought looked very underkissed, a mix of rain and spit almost dripping from his lower lip, mouth hanging slightly open to get the oxygen refill you had kept him from inhaling.

A brush of your thumb over his cheekbone caused his eyes to slowly close, just for a bit more than a second.

Eddie wanted to savour each and every moment in your presence and copy and paste the feeling of you surrounding him, of you actually liking him into every cell of his existence.

That bit more of a second, it was time enough for him to let out a content hum and for your heart to basically combust in your ribcage.

His warmth and softness, the way he just was with you – it was simply said driving you nuts.

The grip on your waist loosened just for his eager hands to teasingly slowly continue the journey upwards, pushing your shirt along with them until his thumbs reached the underside of your tits, releasing another pleased hum through smiling lips, an acknowledgement of you having sat hours and hours next to him without any fucking bra on.

A detail his observant gaze hadn't missed in the morning when you'd floated down that bus aisle, straight towards him, the sight of softly pebbled nipples through the cotton being the reason for his jeans to already feel a little tighter.

Thrill of being touched again now, receiving Eddie's attention, vibrated through your entire system, heat of the moment making your eyelids flutter shut.

And of course Eddie noticed.

As if he wanted to learn and study every atom of your very existence, consume you, his eyes wandered over the peak of your cute nose, the soft lines around your closed eyes and your eyebrows, the soft rosy apples of your cheeks that were wettened from the rain, that cute cupid's bow sitting above your pillowy lips, a rain drop that had gathered on the edge of your chin.

The raindrop he was itching to kiss away.

He thought he was gonna lose his goddamn mind over you.

"Eddie, please", you breathed out in a whiny tone, desperate to have his lips back on yours and for his hands to continue their expedition.

Pulling back, he looked at your worked up expression wistfully once more.

It was so foreign to you, being perceived like that, by someone like him, it turned every single nerve in your body into live wires and messed with your sense of reality.

"Please what, hm? What do you want, baby?"

Already grinding himself against your hip in slow rolls, Eddie decided to reattach his mouth to yours after you gave him the answer he wanted to hear you say, sucking lightly on your lower lip, hands finally reaching further up to fully grab your tits and roll your hardened nipples against the sides of his index fingers with the pads of his thumbs, soft whimpers and moans and subtle twitches from you only spurring him on.

The rain was loudly thudding against the leather of Eddie's jacket, dripping down onto his shirt, your shirt, soaking the both of you further anyway as you left it hanging over your heads.

As though it didn't really serve Eddie's intended purpose, it did have the effect of keeping your faces really close together, noses digging into each others' cheeks as you explored each other with your tongues, your hands still cradling his face, before one of them slowly wandered down over his chest, his belly, continuing its journey until your fingertips reached that familiar handcuff buckle.

They even dared to dip a little lower, ghosting over the very noticeable bulge protesting against its confinement, making the boy in front of you hiss after you both broke apart.

It fed your ego, being the compelling reason, and it reignited that spark of curiosity in you about all the other reactions you'd possibly be able to elicit out of Eddie.

You made it your mission just like you had last night, attaching your lips to his neck, kissing, licking, sucking on the tendons and muscles and slightly salty skin between his jaw and junction of throat and shoulder, hidden underneath the dripping wet curtain of dark waves.

"Mhhm baby, you're driving me insane, .. ngh, fuck, need you .. s-so bad", Eddie moaned out in almost only a whisper, one hand leaving the warmth of your tits to reach behind you, pulling the back door open and throwing both your bags in, before leaving the roof you'd created and blinking at you through his dark, wet lashes, holding five fingers and a palm out to you.

Ever the gentleman, huh?

It was quite dark in there since the windows were tinted and you had to move around with a ducked head.

Random papers, a box of tissues, a few empty cans and items of random blankets, clothing and even a carpet were spluttered around on the floor, reflecting the chaotic aspect of Eddie's personality perfectly.

You didn't mind the mess at all.

There was a small box with guitar picks somewhere in the mix, a black bandana tied to the passenger seats' headrest. The chain of a pair of handcuffs dangling down from the metal bar holding the headrest.

The sight made you swallow on instinct.

A bunch of dried wildflowers stuck out from the slit between windshield and dashboard, a black and white sticker of The Hideout reminding everyone that sat in the front of the metalhead's preferred whereabouts on his Tuesday evenings.

An open can of coke – hopefully empty – sat in the drink holder patiently, alongside a wild and varied collection of tapes surrounded by random clutter in the middle console.

"Don't even say anything, it's cleaner than usual."

You chuckled at him before he shut the van's door behind his back, not even intending to comment anything, since your body and brain were practically buzzing with the thrill of getting to be with the boy in front of you again like you'd been dreaming of for so long.

"I couldn't care less right now, to be honest."

Eddie chuckled.

"Thank fuck."

Increasingly bothered by the lack of his lips on yours, you decided to fist your hand into the wetness of his shirt covering his chest, pulling him back towards you as you reconnected, and soon, his hands were everywhere.

Heated breathing into each others mouths, barely able to break apart for even just a second to rid each other of your shirts, just to pull each other back into an oddly bent embrace with kiss bitten lips as you reached for his belt buckle, while Eddie let the back of his index finger slide down your chest, featherlight touch against one of your freed nipples, peaks standing to his attention from the chilly air.

The soft moan slipping through your lips was swallowed by him, fuel to the fire burning for you somewhere in his abdominal region.

Facing your back, he let himself fall onto the backseat after unzipping his rain-splattered jeans and letting them pool around his ankles.

Those ten hours (turned into eleven, thanks to the traffic jam just outside Chicago) had already felt like a lifetime, and it had taken Eddie at least seven points of damage having to keep his hands to himself for most of the ride, so naturally he allowed himself some forthrightness now that he had the chance to get you alone.

Being manhandled into his lap hadn't been on your bingo card for the day, but you really couldn't say that you minded, either.

That familiar heat, the need for him had been pooling between your thighs and crawling up your spine, spreading through your entire system ever since he'd fallen asleep on your shoulder on the bus in the morning.

So yeah, there was no more time to be wasted.

Eddie had you leaning against his chest, lips already pressing kisses to the junction of neck and shoulder, while his ringed hands went home, roughly kneading your bare tits, an occasional slap against them making your eyes roll and your back arch.

You could feel his eyes burning holes through your skin as he ate up your reactions, pulling you against him so his lips could start nibbling on the skin below your ear as your eyes fluttered shut at his gentle roughness, your back now flush against his heaving chest.

He knew exactly what he was doing and it surely was having the desired effect.

A) getting you impossibly soaked for him

and

B) also finding out, learning more about what you liked to be done to you.

"Mhh baby, you're such a dream, letting me have you like this", a low voice hummed against your ear as his left ring clad hand stayed on your right tit, kneading softly while his other slowly trailed over your belly, straight towards the fire pit between your thighs, and suddenly the whole inside of the van felt like a sauna.

"Not even able to wait until I get you home, hm?", a gentle lick and bite to your neck as he let the flesh go with a small pop, "it does make me wonder", the whispery ton his voice had just dropped to driving your senses to capitulation as the tip of his nose nudged the hinge of your jaw, "if I go just a bit lower", a small peck landing right below your earlobe, while his warm breath trickling down your neck was doing the rest, "are you gonna be wet for me?"

A small chuckle escaped you, surprised at your own ability to even get anything out in your current state, "you'd like that, wouldn't you, Munson?", your gaze meeting his own as you craned your head, not even awaiting a response to your rethorical question but since it was Eddie's lap you were finding yourself seated on, he didn't waste the chance to say something in return, "damn right, I would in fact die for it, sweetness."

Dramatic ass.

Another small peck on your cheek a delightful juxtapose to the nature of the grip he had you in.

You also let out a soft whimper at his words, the pet name, the tantalizingly raspy sounding voice he uttered them in, and a thrilling shiver ran down your spine as he let his middle finger slowly feel over the wet patch that had formed on the fabric of your panties.

A smug hum from the depths of his lungs met your neck and acknowledged the sensation, "you wanna know about all the countless nights I thought about this, about you, sweet stuff– like this", Eddie paused, the same finger now finding its destiny behind the cotton, the fabric being pushed to the side as he let the digit softly gather the slick and rub back and forth over your already swollen clit skillfully, making you wince at the sudden direct contact and your pussy clench around emptiness.

Another soft moan from your lungs made him continue his tale of vulgarity, "with my hand wrapped around my rock hard dick, thinking about how fucking hot you'd sound, how perfect you'd feel, all the filth you'd let me to do to you."

As if on cue, that finger slowly dipped in, your breath getting stuck in your throat as he traced it back up in the same speed, slow circles over the swollen nub along with his whispery confession making it hard for your brain to process any thought at all.

"Oh my god, Eds", his touch was clouding your mind, and with the high he was causing you to experience, you couldn't help yourself but respond with bucking your hips against his hand, a soft and desperate plea for him to give you more, more of his body, more of his love and with that, keep you safe in his arms.

"Yeah baby? S'good?"

"Mhm", you nodded quickly, "feels s-so good, you're so hot, fuck!"

The dark haired boy behind you let out a warm and deep hum against your neck at your soft, vulnerable admission and the feeling of having your warm juices coat his knuckles, the feeling of him solely being the reason for that stickiness gathering between your legs.

Eddie was eating it up, having that effect on your body and you letting this happen.

The exposed state, the trust you graced him with.

You on the other hand felt the hardness digging into your lower back with every squirm over his lap and the way goosebumps arose on your skin at the thought of giving yourself to him again.

Letting him do these things to you.

Feeling like you could let yourself fall, trust him. After imagining it for so many nights, you had stopped counting months ago.

"Eddie, please", you breathed out into the warm, slightly stuffy air inside the van, one of your hands had found a life of its own by caressing Eddie's forearm draped across your torso.

Every sense in your body so alert that you could feel his arm hair tickling your fingertips.

"Yeah, needing me that bad, hm? Wanna ride me, sweet thing?"

"Mhm yes", you whined, hips intuitively grinding down, adding emphasis to your response.

"Fuck", he groaned into your ear without any hesitation as his hand left your slick folds, shimmied your panties down and off quickly and grabbed his cock, letting it glide through your heat in an agonizingly slow pace, making sure you'd definitely feel that silky head nudge your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The mere thought and anticipation of getting filled again made you even more dizzy with want, soft caress turning into a grip of the arm that was still slung around your waist as it held you in place while still giving your nipple some love.

Eddie couldn't believe his fucking luck either. He had you spread out and open for him on his lap, a sopping wet mess, light grinding of his hips causing the purply red tip of his cock to catch your clit deliciously over and over again.

And you were all his. By far the best thing to come out of this trip.

The bestest day of possible best days in the Munson books.

"No idea how I just survived sitting next to you for ten hours without getting to touch you like this, shit."

The metalhead buried his face in your neck, lips pressed tightly to your soft skin while he let the tip of his cock breach your entrance.

You welcomed him with tightness and a sinful moan, the incredible feeling of fullness you'd been missing since last night spreading through your abdomen like a warm wave.

"Want you to fuck me, baby, please."

Eddie chuckled, his need for you evident in the way he was gripping your flesh, passionately trying not to blow already as he felt your cunt adjust to the welcome intrusion.

"Jesus christ, gonna make me cum already if you're gonna say stuff like that, fuck."

Time stood still.

Just for a glimpse, a fragment of the situation, and it made you realise just how much you'd been missing having someone in your life this way.

It made you want nothing more than to make the boy underneath you feel good. Make him feel loved and appreciated and worthy.

Eddie let his hand rest on your mound as you started slowly grinding your hips down into his, answering the gentle bucking of his own, the lewd sound of your wetness filling the space around the two of you.

"Mhm, yeah baby fuck me back, god you're doing soooo good", he raised his head a little to nuzzle his nose into your cheek as his lips brushed against it with a smile, "taking me so well, perfect little cunt just made for me."

"Yeah?"

You craned your head towards his face as it was lolled back and resting on the top of the seat behind him, lips almost touching his, which were pulled into the widest smile.

"Yeah."

The Prince of Metal closed the gap.

A sickeningly sweet moment blossoming between the both of you as you slowly melted into each other.

The smile so contagious it made breaking apart again almost impossible.

And then, in true Eddie fashion, his tongue darted out to lick up a broad stripe from the dip of your shoulder up to your jaw, tasting the thinnest sheen of sweat and rain on your skin before coming down again to suck a deep purple bruise into the tender flesh of your throat.

It made your head fall back against the headrest again, having him express his desire in such an indecent way.

Letting him mark you, his need for you on display for all of fucking Hawkins to see.

And it made your cunt clench around the hardness that was still slowly pumping in and out of your drenched walls, eliciting a deep breathy moan from Eddie's lungs.

Eyes half lidded, he brought his hand up from between your thighs to have you suck the stickiness off his fingers and the sight and feel of your warm tongue connected to his skin like that made Eddie nearly bust, so naturally, he did the next logical thing.

Collaring your throat and giving it a brief squeeze before travelling down south, the twitch of your legs imminent when two of his fingertips reestablished contact with your throbbing clit, rubbing soft circles over it, setting every cell of your existence up to burst into flames at any second.

"Feels so good Eds, you f-feel so so good", you breathed out under more soft whimpers, head facing him again so he could get a good look at your needy expression.

It drove him mad. It was like a switch had been flipped.

"Yeah, s'that how my girl likes it?"

You were pretty sure your eyes just hit the back of your skull.

My girl? Did you even hear that right?

And he was far from stopping, those skilled fingers slightly increasing their speed instead as he released a guttural moan at the way you were clenching around him once more, "shiiiit baby, gonna let me fuck you all weekend, yeah? Gonna fuck you so good and so deep, gonna make you feel so good around my cock ... yeah, that's what you want, isn't it baby? God you're so f-fucking tight and so beautiful and so warm and wet and all for me", Eddie paused his breathy responses to your sweet whimpers, the hand that was still on your chest pinching your nipple hard at the sensation of your pussy throbbing around him eagerly, a lewd moan ripping though your vocal cords as he continued, "see what you do to me baby, feel how fucking hard you got me? This is all you, for you only, s-shit."

His hips thrusted upwards at his last sentence adding emphasis, and you let him take control, set a rather harsh pace while the attention he gave to your most sensitive spot remained the same, a beautiful contrast to the way he was pounding your sopping cunt in his lap, accompanied by the lewd deep grunts and groans coming from his lungs.

Entirely incapable of forming any coherent word at this point, you just let him make you feel good and use you for his pleasure.

Anything spilling over your lips in this moment would have probably been utter nonsense.

Every nerve felt like a live wire, his words adding onto a neediness you didn't know you had within yourself.

Instead, his comments on your little noises continued. You couldn't deny your surprise at his talkativeness, but you were also eating it up.

"Yeah baby? Like how good my cock feels? You like how fucking hard it is for you, yeah? God you look so fucking pretty soaking it for me, feels so f-fucking good", something close to a whisper gently invaded your ear and it sent one of your hands grabbing at the back of his neck and pull on his hair a little, holding him right there.

"Ye-yeah, love your pretty dick Eds, f-feels so good getting u-used like that", you babbled out, every cell of skin on fire as he helped you grind down into his lap.

Eddie was about to lose his mind.

He was also wondering how on mother earth it was possible for him to hold out this long. Fucking you like this and hearing the filth and praise spill from your lips without having blown his load through your abdomen yet.

Another pinch of your nipple had you whimper out his name followed by a string of unholy profanities, the carnal need to feel him this way being satisfied was sending your brain into another dimension.

"Wanna cum Eds, wanna cum for you, please", you moaned out into the air, the inside of the van still feeling more like a sauna to you. Due to your .. activities.

"Mh fuck– god that's so hot, such a good girl using your words like that, turn around baby, wanna see your pretty face when you cum."

With a slap to the side of your ass, cause for the fat of it to jiggle from the impact, Eddie's bucking hips came to a stall, the trance you'd found yourself getting fucked into slowly fizzling out.

You did as you were told once your brain registered his unholy instruction, trying to stand up on really fucking wobbly legs and turning around just to admire the view for a second.

Legs spread with you between them and his ass near the edge of the seat, dark curls still birthed small rivers onto his heaving chest, only for them to turn into subject to gravity as your infatuated gaze followed their trail.

The sheen of sweat on his skin accentuated the tattoos that you'd swore yourself to examine more closely in the near future.

Eddie's face popped a downright naughty smirk that had all the abilities to melt the north pole, and the only difference between the cherry tone of colour in his cheeks and his dick was that the latter was additionally glistening with your juices while it rested on the soft expanse of his belly right along that happy trail which also presented itself sticky with sin, and your eyes couldn't help but take in the beads of your arousal that had already dripped down onto his balls and decorated his trim of the dark thatch sitting around the base of his dick.

It was like he had emerged straight from your hottest wet dream, and your brain was currently making you very aware of the damp emptiness between your own thighs as your gaze took in the vision.

"Like what you see, huh?", said vision commented the desire written all over your facial features, and without breaking eye contact nor that lethal smirk he leaned forward, fingertips softly grazing the outsides of your plush thighs in an upward motion and towards the backs of them, further up to grab at your behind, while he let his searing gaze cascade down over your pebbled nipples, flushed chest and stomach, decorated with droplets of rain, until it arrived at your belly.

"C'mere sweet thing", he nuzzled his face into the softness of it by pulling you another step towards him with his ringed palms right below your ass, an attempt to convey his pure intentions with you, confirmed by a soft kiss right above your belly button.

Eddie leaned back while pulling you further, making you straddle him as he then helped you guide his soaked, rock hard length back to where you both needed it to be.

Moaning in unison you lowered yourself back down until he was fully seated inside of you again, the new angle causing your clit to rub along the top of his cock with such delicacy, you knew it wouldn't take long for you to see stars.

"God fucking damn it baby", it spilled from his lips as he felt the wet warmth envelop his dick again, "can't believe this is real, fucking love your pretty pussy."

It felt like you were floating whenever you were around him. Literally.

"'Fuck, f-feels so fucking good, Eds", you whined into his hair as you grappled with balance, instinct to slowly grind yourself over his lap, that hunger for him taking over, his strong arms coming to wrap around you protectively, pulling you further into his chest.

Holding you as close as possible.

Needing you as close as possible.

It made shivers run down your spine, overwhelming need to engrave this moment and all these feelings for him into every cell of your being.

You'd never felt this safe.

Eddie buried his face in your neck, nipping at your slightly salty skin followed by soothing licks over the blossoms of purple he'd left earlier.

He didn't mind the wet strands of your hair sticking to his cheeks.

And then, his hands ventured out to travel once more.

Grabbed your ass again, gave it a generous spank, making you hiss in return, before his fingertips slid up over your waist and back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He slid them all the way around your figure just so his thumbs could catch the underside of your tits, moaning your name over and over again as each grind of your hips over his own caused him to nearly see stars with how turned on he was.

"That's it baby yeees, use me juuust like that, fucking love seeing this side of you come out", he commented the pleasure slowly building behind your eyelids, the steady bounce of your slick pussy on his used swollen cock, and just when you steadied yourself with your hands on the seat behind him, he seized the opportunity to catch one of your nipples with his mouth, sucking on the bud eagerly as the symphony of your whimpers combined with his muffled moans returned to fill the inside of his van.

Wayne had given it to him as a present-slash-reward for not failing driving school, and for the past couple years he had undeniably rocked it into the condition it was today with selfless help from his bandmates, but never in a hundred centuries had he expected to ever use this space to fuck you senseless.

How he ended up here right now was beyond him, but he also wasn't really in the headspace to question it, not while your sweet wet cunt was happily wrapped around his dick, bouncing and bouncing relentlessly while his dark round hues were glued to your facial features, needing to soak up your reactions to his actions like a sponge.

It didn't take long for you to reach the peak from here, your hips finding a mind of their own as you chased that euphoric feeling, speeding up while he kept swirling his warm, wet tongue around your sensitive bud and his moans transpired into your skin, "gonna cum Eds, oh my fucking god", you mewled, the head which you had thrown back a while ago coming back up to look the metalhead in the eyes through heavy lids as you pulled him off your tits.

Hitting the headrest, he was hotly out of breath, patterns drawn on his neck with wet strands of dark hair, and you couldn't tell anymore if it was the rain or sweat that caused his beautiful skin to glisten.

He was biting down on his lower lip, that dark pair of eyes fixated on your own, fully in the moment with you as one of his hands moved back down and between your bodies, sinfully rubbing over your soaking wet clit again to help you along.

"Yeah pretty baby, that sweet warm cunt getting me so close, oh shit– c'mon, lose it for me", Eddie's voice echoed through your lustclouded mind like a prayer as he instinctively bucked his hips up into you, following your rhythm and pace.

And with this intense combination of stimulations you were receiving from him, that spot inside you being nudged over and over and over again and his eyes on your own, you sensed that it wouldn't take much more for you to finally feel those hot white flashes quake through your system.

"Inside, w-want you i-inside", you muttered out into the air with all your senses on fire, one of your hands coming around the back of his neck to bury your fingers in the mess of damp curls once again as you added emphasis to your words by giving him a few sloppy grinds over his sweat-sticky lap.

"Shit, are you s-sure?"

"Yeah I'm f-fucking sure, go on baby, fuck I'm gonna cuuum", you huffed out, entirely out of breath, just before the build up reached its peak and the most mind-numbing pleasure ripped though your being, vision going blurry and all as Eddie's dark eyes watched you fuck yourself into a trance until he furrowed his brows, a first hint at the announcement of his own release, and verbalized in soft repetitions of your name.

With a softly mumbled "so fucking filthy, so good for me sweetness, gonna make me– oh shit" and a guttural groan he imminently followed your lead, the vibration and rhythmical clench of your cunt along with those sweet whimpers of his name doing enough to send him over the edge right with you as he let you ride out both your highs, accompanied by a few little oh fucks as his ringed hands helped keeping your hips from stuttering.

It was so easy to just let yourself fall.

With him.

Not long after you both caught your breath, his arms sneaked around your figure wordlessly, gently pulling you into his embrace, hot breath fanning your shoulder, lips releasing a satisfied little hum as it stuck to your warm skin.

Cheeks flushed a bright rose and half lidded dark brown orbs gazed warmly at you from underneath his damp bangs, the infatuation with your being embellishing his face, chest heaving with the aftermath of his climax.

A sweet moment spread through the inside of the van, full of serenity and bliss, everything that existed on the outside already long forgotten.

"Didn't realize you could have such a filthy mouth on you, Munson", your hand reached to grab his face once you came back down to earth, pulling his chin up slightly to press your lips against his again, grinning widely as an eyebrow quirked up at you.

"Oh yeah? I know yesterday you mentioned dreaming of me, but– a-are you telling me that you also thought about what I'd be like before?"

The smirk spreading over his lips and mild twitch of his dick at the thought, which you definitely felt, doing absolutely nothing to hide the effect of your words.

"I might have imagined a thing or two, yeah."

If you were totally honest, the question of what he'd be like in bed had been the main content of most of your daydreams.

Not to mention those at night.

Eddie chuckled smugly, the newly acquired knowledge pouring oil into the fire that had already set his humble ego aflame.

"Didn't realize you could get even hotter than you already are, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes with a smile dancing over your face.

One of his hands that had lazily massaged your ass came up to cup your face, pulling you towards him again as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips followed by a smile against them, thumb softly stroking the skin.

Another peck to your forehead before he gently let you move down and rest your head on his collarbone with your nose tucked just below his jaw, snuggle into his embrace.

Comforting silence. A minute or two to breathe. With each other.

"Thank you", voice coming out as gentle as you'd intended, you lifted your head and placed a kiss on his neck before humming against it.

"For what?"

"Making me feel safe? You're the first person to ever succeed at that, you know?"

His chest rose and fell from a deep breath.

Draped around your figure, Eddie's arms squeezed you to his body.

"Sweetness, I am honoured. I'll always keep you safe, I promise."

"So will I."

Another peck landed on the same spot and your hand cradling the other side of his head felt his cheek push up.

God, you loved him.

Meanwhile, Eddie considered himself as lucky as someone who'd won the lottery.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed since you both had successfully escaped the rain, inside of your mind still fuzzy from all those feelings for him and the remnants of that head spinning orgasm he'd just given you.

Eddie didn't know either since he had most certainly left his last couple braincells on that bus, and to be fair, he also couldn't find a care in his body.

A lifetime with you wouldn't be long enough.

What he did care about though were the noticeable goosebumps that had spread over your arms, your back and your thighs, that familiar urge to keep you safe which had kept him up for countless nights crawling back into his conscience, "wanna get you home and under a warm shower, and then we can order pizza or something. How's that sound?"

A soft sigh spilled from your lips, stuck in between the promise of a warm shower and the torment of having to get off of him, losing that skin on skin contact you both were so drawn to.

Touch as the love language, huh.

A nod and a smile.

To your own displeasure, that empty, dull feeling returned instantly once he slipped out of your swollen cunt as you got up, followed by the equally unpleasant attempt to get redressed.

Not that you didn't like clothes on you, it was just that literally everything was soaked from the rain at this point, and you only noticed this totally surprising fact once you started rummaging through your own bag of pieces to wear.

The extra pair of panties you had quick-wittedly packed and a shirt you'd worn on day three of the camp had survived the flood outside, and the metalhead who was crouched down next to you in search of anything dry faced a similar fate.

He did have to put his damp boxers back on though, unfortunate but bearable considering the short ride to the trailer park.

Just like the heavy rain had on the way, the tape that had played over the stereo during the ride stopped abruptly as Eddie turned the engine off, mere seconds after he'd put the vehicle in park right outside the Munson trailer.

"Wayne's left already so we've got the space to ourselves and all the time in the world, babe. Well, at least twelve hours until he comes home", Eddie whipped his head around to you, sending those dark damp curls flying before he flashed his teeth at you in an adorably goofy grin.

Slipping out of the driver's seat he stood in the open door as he fumbled with the seatbelt that had wrapped around his left arm, inwardly cursing the dumb thing, while you got up to climb out of the van a little more gracefully.

Your eyes fell to the space where you'd sat as you were about to shut the door, instant heat creeping into your cheeks and mouth going completely dry at the sight of what had come into your periphery.

This was irreversible. You weren't sure if your body was frozen from the chilly post-storm air or the realization of your mistake.

"Uhm, Eddie?"

Everything else you intended to say died in your throat.

He stopped in his tracks with a gleeful yes, sweetheart?, gaze coming up to eye you curiously, totally unaware of your discomfort about the situation presenting itself to your eyes.

Only when you didn't give him an answer he tried to follow your line of sight from the point he was situated at, eyebrows disappearing behind the bangs.

"Oh fuck, .. that's really hot", with an amused chuckle he commented the small patch of your mixed cum that had seeped through your panties and onto the fabric of the passenger seat.

Your brain was short-circuiting.

"You're– you're not mad?"

"Mad?", Eddie slapped his door shut and practically speedwalked around the front of his van, and when he arrived in front of your slightly shivering body, he pulled you against him, making sure the view of your backside was shielded by the open door, "baby no, why would I? This is perfect. You know what this means?"

It came out as a soft almost whisper to your ear, his stubble scratching the side of your face as his jaw moved.

Shaking your head, you shot him a questioning look, the nervousness in you floating away as quickly as it had risen, as he reciprocated your gaze with another goofy grin.

"It's a commemoration of our bond. Because now we'll literally be seat partners forever."

The sentiment made you snort.

Eddie grabbed the bags before escorting you to the trailer door, silly grin decorating his silly face for another silly hour.

Your car stayed in the school's parking lot for the whole week.

––––

taglist: @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @spellbounddd, @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint, @mystars123, @gothmingguk, @kennafild, @chloe-6123, @michaelfuckinglangdon, @analogkraken, @mrsjellymunson, @kimmi-kat, @bakugouswh0r3, @sapphire4082, @trixyvixx, @wtf-lindsay, @mystra-midnight, @lonelysatellites, @trashmouth-richie,

#hopefully this is as hot to read as it is playing in my head #eddie munson smut #the law of seat partners #surprise! a sequel #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #the law of seat partners sequel #in eddie we trust #kinda difficult to tell if this can live up to part 4 in any way but .. i tried #yo yo yo it's here !!!

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thorraborinn · 2 days ago

Note

Would it possible at all for you to point me in the direction of how to translate elder futhark runes ie: “Thor, Protector of Humanity”. I’m entertaining the idea of woodburning Norse art.

lol you're gonna hate this. Nobody asks me shit like this anymore so I'm gonna take it too seriously.

Really the answer is "no." I can try to do it for you but I don't think it makes sense for me to say "learn Proto-Norse" and hope for the best. Learning how to do this is a lot more difficult than learning Old Norse or Old English (and tbh "learn ON or OE or OHG" is the actual advice I'd give here). I know you're asking about doing this in general, and not for that phrase in particular, but you happened to provide a good example so I'm going to try a translation and show all my work.

I did put together a very non-exhaustive list of sources on runes available here but honestly that will not get you far here. Turning Proto-Norse into runes is easy, it's the language part that's hard. I also made a big list of deity names in Elder Futhark. Apparently the font embedding broke so it looks like nonsense, and I'm not gonna fight with it now. But the bolded text in each entry can be transliterated into runes. I haven't looked at this in years, but did just update Thor to be more in line with what I have here. Also, don't trust Wikipedia or Wiktionary for this stuff, you can use them as a research tool but verify independently or just use them to find other sources.

If I were in your position, I would consider using Old Norse and the runes that wrote that. Völuspá even gives us a near parallel: Miðgarðs véurr, and one of many ways to write that might be ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᛘᛁᚦᚴᛆᚱᚦᛋ ᛬ ᚢᛁᚢᚱ.

I should make sure sure you're asking what you want to be asking. I'm assuming you want to translate into language that was spoken when the Elder Futhark was used. Some people say "translate" when they mean the less-commonly-known-but-more-accurate "transliterate" (turn "abc" into "ᚨᛒᚲ"). Maybe you just want to go ᚦᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛟᚠ ᛬ ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾᛁᛏᛁ and call it a day, and there's nothing wrong with that but you don't need my help for it so I'm guessing that isn't what you mean.

Anyway I'll give you my crack at a translation of the phrase you provided now in case you don't want to read the rest of this but the explanation is after the break:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

(the i ~ ij thing is on purpose. word boundary markers optional)

Thor

There are some unclear phonological aspects of *þun?raz > Þórr. Haukur Þorgeirsson recently addressed this (this article is currently paywalled but for some reason the whole thing loaded just fine for me a few hours ago, not sure why), and I find his conclusions satisfactory, which complicates things. Haukur proposes an earlier *Þunurr but doesn't rule out *Þonarr (or earlier reflex of these). By Haukur's analysis the former is easier to resolve within Old Norse but the latter is more convenient with some other proposals already made, especially by comparative linguists. So we find ourselves with two proposals for the god's name in Elder Futhark-era language: ᚦᚢᚾᚢᚱᚨᛉ *þunuraʀ and ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ *þonaraʀ. I'm conditioned to favor *þonaraʀ, but I can't find fault in Haukur's preference for *þunuraʀ within the context of his own paper.

The only reason I'm not siding with it is that it seems impossible to resolve with Old High German donar and Old Saxon thunar (both 'thunder'; compare *eburaz > OHG/OS ebur, not **ebar). So while Haukur's got me convinced that *þunuraʀ seems like a more likely immediate precursor to Þórr, I can't shake *þonaraʀ being what seems to me, at least for now, a necessary precursor to the OHG especially. And for now, "seems necessary" beats "more likely." Of course variation is possible but that isn't a way to handwave conflicting data, it's a whole separate thing to investigate, and I haven't done that yet.

If I were researching something for myself, or for something permanent like a tattoo, I'd keep going and make sure I'm more confident. Even Haukur leaves open possibilities I haven't mentioned here. If nothing else, at least *þunraz no longer seems necessary to maintain (as Ringe 2014 thought following Noreen 1923).

Alternatively, one who does prefer *þunraz as the Proto-Germanic could probably be convinced to allow an epenthetic vowel for Elder Futhark-era language, so we're safe there.

I probably could have left all this out. *þonaraʀ is a fairly normal, mainstream way to reconstruct Þórr. But that wouldn't have been an accurate depiction of the situation. However we work this out, it highlights that what we're doing is not speaking/writing ancient, dead, unattested language. Or, if we are, it's only incidental to the primary thing we're doing, which is trying and sometimes failing to understand how attested words relate to each other, and taking sides in arguments about that.

protector

Selecting a word for 'protector' is difficult. It was only with some hesitation that I went with warjaʀ, a word only attested in compounded personal names like Landawar(i)jaʀ on the Tørvika A stone. It's highly likely to be derived from *warjan- 'to protect/defend.' What's a little weird, though, is that it seems to always be written warijaʀ, in apparent violation of Sievers' Law. I won't get into details here because this post is gonna be long enough as it is, but let it be known the word (and others -- the (i)ja thing recurs a bunch in the Elder corpus) is controversial and my preference for leaving it as it's attested would probably not be universal.

Snorri calls Thor verjandi Ásgarðs, Miðgarðs 'protector of Ásgarðr, Miðgarðr.' To be honest, this isn't the most common use of verjandi; usually it means 'defendant' in a trial, but we can get its meaning from context. We should stop to question whether it could have been used that way some 700 years before Snorri, and once we're satisfied that we can use it we run into trouble again with the non-phonological change of the suffix *-andz > -andi. The *-andz suffix is poorly attested in the Elder Futhark. We have the Tune stone's witada witanda-, but it's a compound word and doesn't give us the nominative ending. Then there's the Eggja stone's suwimąde swimmande and gąląnde galandi which are late enough to be basically fully Old Norse, and doesn't tell us much about earlier language. In Old Norse, these -andi words have the same endings as an n-stem in the singular, and maybe they did in Proto-Norse, but we don't have nominative (or even uncompounded in any case) forms from early enough to be sure. *warjandʀ or *warjanda? Or something else? If not for this, it's the word I'd probably use, and if we want to come as close as we can to technical dictionary accuracy, we'll have to be okay with a shot in the dark at the morphological state of the language.

Also derived from verja are vernd, verndari, vǫrn, vǫrðr. Both vernd and vǫrn mean roughly 'protection' and it makes more sense to say that Thor gives or provides them than that he is them. A vǫrðr is a guard or warden -- Heimdallr is definitely a vǫrðr but I'm not certain Thor is. Most likely, verndari is a later, Norse-era formation, which is unfortunate because it is the word I'd use if we were translating to Old Norse (might go a little bit something like ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᚢᛆᚱ(ᚿ)ᛐᛆᚱᛁ ᛬ ᛘᚭᚿᚴᚢ(ᚿ)ᛋ).

In Old Norse there's also gæta. It isn't attested outside of North Germanic which means relying on internal reconstruction, which isn't great. Kroonen's (2013) *ganhatjan- makes sense and PN *gą̄tijaʀ does seem pretty reasonable as a reconstruction. Semantically, I'm not sure if it's a good fit, though I'm having trouble articulating why. Its meaning should be something like 'to watch, tend, take care of' and in most modern language is more like what Iðunn does with her apples, or what a shepherd does with their flock, than what Thor does with humans, but I don't know that we can be so precise with Proto-Norse and in either case I don't think it's wrong. Actually, perhaps gætir Miðgarðs would be a better way to put it (hint: gætir Miðgarðs < *gą̄tijaʀ miðjagarðas ᚷᚨᛏᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᛁᛞᛃᚨᚷᚨᚱᛞᚨᛊ).

The Norse word hlífa might be closer to what we're looking for, though it might only seem that way because we have little evidence to contradict it. In Norse it means 'to protect/defend/shelter (from something)' and works here, but its attestations in other Germanic languages are a little weak and don't inspire confidence in the semantics.

Given all this, I can't help but feel it's best to return to war(i)jaʀ. Though unattested outside of names, it presumably had an independent existence at some point, and is transparently derived from the verb *warjan- 'to defend.' And maybe most importantly, it is actual, attested language. This is a rare opportunity to forget about what I said at the end of the "Thor" section and connect to real language committed to real record by real people.

As an aside, véurr, mentioned way above, is probably etymologically equivalent to vé + warjaʀ, so *wīhawarjaʀ ᚹᛁᚺᚨᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ.

humanity

We catch a break with 'humanity.' There are complications but they won't end up mattering. There are a few ways to say 'humanity' but they all start man(n)-; we can have our pick of -kin or -kind to end it but -kin is more common, which in PN is *kunja. But the 'man' words in early Germanic languages are a little weird. Sometimes it has one n, sometimes two; it's always two in Old Norse, but it's hard to say if that was true in elder runic language. Fortunately we can sidestep this: in most runes you only write a letter once, even if the sound is long. But to use a connecting vowel or not? Gothic has compounds in mana-, manna-, man-, and mann-. So *man(n)akunja or *man(n)kunja? Well, as Martin Syrett (1994) pounds out, Germanic in general and Gothic in particular are not consistent when it comes to stem vowels in compounds. There's a tendency to spread -a- as a connecting vowel even where it doesn't belong. So we should feel pretty safe that even if *man(n)akunja isn't the inherited form from Proto-Germanic, it was always a possibility. Finally, worst comes to worst, you could just let ᛗ stand for the whole word, given that it's the 'man' rune anyway.

Last, we'll have to put that in the genitive case to make it 'of mankind.' We don't have examples of neuter ja-stems in the genitive from the Elder Futhark but there isn't really strong reason to believe it wasn't *-jas, so: *kunjas.

We've arrived at my answer:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

Anyway I hope you don't mind me going completely over the top answering this, I don't think I realized before starting to answer this that I needed to get it out of my system.

#runes #ask #anon #thor

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rayastasy · 23 hours ago

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Plot holes in the Elriel endgame narrative that make me believe in Gwynriel

3 books are left (2 full length and 1 novella) - 2 main characters left to resolve (Elaine and Azriel) and 4 side characters who have been highlighted with the main characters (Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, Lucian) - If couples are Lucian/Elaine , Gwyn/Azriel for the main books and then Mor/Emerie in the novella, that perfectly wraps up all the characters.

If Elaine and Azriel are together end of the next book then whomst the hell is the last book about? Lucian and Vassa? Why would some side characters randomly get their own full length book… and where does that leave Gwyn?

There have been obvious micro flirtations written in with Gwyn and Azriel (“you’re the new ribbon Az”) (The whole thing with the necklace??) Why on EARTH would SJM do that if Gwyn was not intended to be associated with Azriel specifically. Why would she make you question the obvious set up of Elriel if it was intended to be Elriel all along. (Maybe for a love triangle trope?)

OKAY so you think that SJM is doing 2 love triangles on both sides in ONE relationship? You think that it’s Elain choosing between Azriel and Lucian and also Azriel is choosing between Elaine and Gwyn? Thats just not how that works at all and I don’t think I need to explain that one further.

The main argument I hear from Elriels is how it’s stupid to even think it would be Gwyn because SJM has made it so obvious that there is something with Azriel and Elain which is CORRECT. But you know who else was obviously end game at the end of a book in a series? Feyre and Tamlin, Aelin and Chaol. It’s SJMs signature move so I don’t understand that argument at all. If anything I would ask if she was really going to pull that move again??

Elaine’s flowers - Feyre (Moon and Stars), Nesta (flames), Elaine (Flowers) …. Can’t you see Elaine and Lucian ending up at the spring court together after Lucian and Tamlin resolve things which is obviously going to happen. Elaine is spring, not shadows and night. We all know that.

After all that’s been said about Mates…I do not see SJM disregarding Lucian and Elaine’s mating bond. An argument can be made that this will be the other side of it where she follows true love instead of the bond but I just don’t buy it. We haven’t seen love with Elriel…only lust. I think more likely it will be a different story in that it is hard for Elaine to accept the bond but eventually she will and that is what her book with involve. I think Elaine’s book is next and will include her even hooking up with Azriel but ultimately she will end up with Lucian and then we will have Azriels book next as he sorts through all of his unrequited lusts and ends up finding love over lust.

I am not trying to argue or hear you say this is stupid in the comments. If you think it’s stupid I better see a logical counter argument on each bullet point. I’ve been reading so many Elriel theories and acknowledging that some have my Gwynriel heart shaking in my boots. But ultimately this is why I can’t fully accept it and I just want to hear the thoughts of Elriels that are capable of seeing multiple thought processes and critically thinking about it, am curious if any of these things give you pause in Elriel confidence or if you, like me, think it could go either way.

Thanks for reading my thesis

#gwynriel #azriel #Acotar #pro gwyn #pro gwynriel

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bnhaobservation · 2 days ago

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Who's to blame when the stakes are missing?

So recently I’ve been hearing people complain about Eri’s Quirk and how it destroyed the stakes and I decided I just wanted to talk about the whole issue BNHA has with stakes and how it’s not tied to the devices it uses, be they Quirk or medical knowledge, but to how it decides to use said devices.

But let’s start with order.

“If anything and everything in a story can be theoretically altered with absolutely no in-universe constraints whatsoever—bound only to the whims of the writers themselves—then why does anything that happens in the story matter?” [State of the Arc Podcast, "The Problem with Time-Travel"]

This is how the tvtropes page “No Permanence, No Stakes” opens.

The lack of stakes is a problem BNHA faces in a way that’s so embarrassing that when it really ends up killing characters many readers ended up doubting they were really dead… or annoying them when the dramatic problem just created ended up being resolved way too easily (see Midoriya’s arms coming back so quickly there was really no point for him to lose them).

The problem though isn’t Eri’s Quirk that can fix everything… it’s that the story never had some solid rules that managed to keep the stakes alive even when in the story existed devices to undo the damage.

What do I mean?

I’m going to talk of another manga, one who had plenty of methods to undo the damage that’s made through the story, but that still managed to keep the stakes alive because it sets rules. This is a shounen which made history, aka “Dragon Ball” by Toriyama Akira (by the way I’ll use only the original Toriyama’s manga for this, forget the side material and the following anime series and manga series, okay? And before you ask “Dragon Ball” isn’t perfect but boy, it did things so much better in this camp and it’s a classic authors study so I don’t get how Horikoshi couldn’t have learnt from it).

In “Dragon Ball” nothing has to be permanent, it seems as if Toriyama had fun trying all the ways he could think of to undo the damage he were to give to his characters and his words… yet each magical device to undo the damage comes with rules. The characters know them, the readers know them and the stakes are created by having the characters move through those rules to use the magical devices that will undo the damage.

Let’s start with the titular artifacts of the series, the “Dragon Ball” (ドラゴンボール), who can be used to fulfill whatever wish you were to have. They come with a large set of rules. First of all you’ve to collect all 7 of them, as they spread themselves through the world each time they fulfill a wish, a task not easy if you don’t have a radar to locate them (and while some characters have it, others don’t). Once they’re collected you need to be the fastest to express your wish because if someone else will beat you on it, it’ll be their wish that will be fulfilled. As said before the Dragon Balls spread themselves after fulfilling a wish… but you can’t try to collect them moments after it as it won’t be possible to track or use them again for a full year. The Earth Dragon Balls also come with the rule they can’t resurrect a person twice, while the Namekian Dragon Balls come with the rule they can resurrect more than one person, although they can fulfill not one but three wishes. Also, if their creators or the dragon they summon die (it’s actually the dragon the one fulfilling the wishes), they stop working.

When in the series there is a Dragon Balls hunt, or the characters need to use them for a wish, they’ve to fight with those limitations. The limitations become stakes, become part of the battle, part of the story. You know that at the end the heroes will manage to use them to undo the damage but the point becomes how they’ll overcome the stakes that will try to stop them from using them? Toriyama did entire arcs playing with those rules, having characters trying to overcome them.

For minor things like characters risking to die but not being dead yet we also have devices that will reverse this.

The story in fact introduces the ‘Senzu’ (仙豆 lit. “Hermit Bean”), which are mystical beans with immense rejuvenation properties. When eaten, a person's physical condition is near-instantly restored to its natural peak. Too bad they aren’t everywhere and you can’t have an endless supply of them. Characters need to get them and to make sure they don’t overuse them. Once they’re out of them, they’re on their own. And, of course, they can be stolen.

Next come the ‘MEDICAL MACHINE’ (メディカルマシーン), large containers filled with some form of liquid that can completely heal a person from near death. Of course they’re owned by the big bad of the series so it’s not so easy to get free access to them, they need time to heal the person who wants to use them, time during which the person can’t move from them, and can be destroyed.

We’ve then the ‘kaifuku’ (回復 “Healing” Lit. “time again”), which refers to a variety of special techniques used throughout the series to restore physical condition… only not everyone know how to use such technique, so you’ve to find someone who can use it and the user can be killed by an enemy.

But what if a person truly dies?

Well, if are given special permission, they can go back on Earth. Limitation? It works for one day only and they need permission to do so.

And if all this isn’t enough?

Just grab the ‘TIME MACHINE’ (タイムマシン) and redo everything. Be mindful though that only 1 person has a time machine, that the time machine can be broken or stolen and that, if you go back to the past and do something, you’ll alter it and you can’t predict how or if it’ll go for the better or worse. Also your timeline WON’T CHANGE AT ALL, so as not to create a time paradox.

Now let’s go back to BNHA and see how things work there.

The first magical device introduced in the story to undo damage is Recovery Girl’s Quirk ‘Iyashi’ (癒し “heal”). At first it seems to work like the “Dragon Ball” healing technique… Recovery Girl uses it on a fainted Midoriya and, in a second, all the damage he received is undone, the completely shattered bones resetting themselves and healing just fine (chapter 4). It would have worked just fine like this, but Horikoshi felt the need to retcon it to add a rule, it would consume the stamina of the one being healed… so that if the person were to run out of stamina he would die instead than being healed (chapter 7). In case you don’t know, stamina is the bodily or mental capacity to sustain a prolonged stressful effort or activity. Midoriya fainted in chapter 4, rightfully so as he should have worn himself out completely due to using OFA’s power and getting injured as he completely shattered both his legs and one arm… but the healing administered didn’t kill him. This retcon wasn’t enough as we later learn that Recovery Girl has to set the bones before administering healing and that scarring will remain anyway (chapter 40), something she hadn’t done in chapter 4, when the damage was way worse, never mentioning Midoriya never reported any scarring in the previous 3 times in which he was healed. Lastly, chapter 342 will introduce the idea Recovery Girl gets older if she uses her Quirk… something we were never told before and that doesn’t really affect the plot. All those setbacks that the story introduces aren’t obstacles the characters have to overcome to get access to the healing, they’re just things tossed in after the damage is done that have no real weight in the story. If in chapter 11 Recovery Girl claims she can’t heal Midoriya because he is too low on stamina, this won’t mean much for the story as Midoriya won’t have to do anything else for the day and will be healed the day after before lessons starts. When she’ll heal him the first time during the sport festival, the loss of stamina won’t make him too weak to fight Shouto. The only time in which her limits seem to have some weight is when she can’t heal Nighteye… but this could have resolved just by having her reaching him when it was too late. When, in “Dragon Ball”, Dende refused to heal Vegeta, this could have as a consequence Freezer to kill them all, when Recovery Girl refuses to heal Midoriya, the stakes are inexistent, because Midoriya isn’t in desperate need of healing to do something, he can just wait to heal on his own… or the next day when Recovery Girl will be willing to heal him.

In order for the rules/drawback of such device to work as stakes, they need to be introduced BEFORE the device will be used and the characters must try to overcome them or, at least they’ve to affect the plot in some way to create an interesting story, otherwise there’s no point to them. “Dragon Ball” does this, BNHA will never do it.

In fact let's move to the next thing, Chisaki’s Quirk, ‘Overhaul’ (オーバーホール), which gives the user the ability to disassemble and then reassemble matter with their bare hands. This process happens instantly, as long as the user is touching its target, is effective on living and non-living things alike and can even recombine two different objects or beings into a single entity that possesses components of both subjects. The reassembling can heal any injuries or ailments the target had by reconstructing them to a biologically perfect state. Stakes? There’s a minor cool down and, if the user’s hands get destroyed, he can’t use his Quirk. Oh, also, that this Quirk is owned by an enemy who use it against the Heroes. This though wouldn’t be a real problem as Chisaki will get arrested and team Hero has Monoma who can copy Quirks… but, while they thought to use Monoma to copy Eri’s Quirk and learn to use it so that he could teach Eri how to use her own Quirk, they don’t think to copy Chisaki’s Quirk so that they can use its healing properties. Nope, even if they gain Chisaki back, his Quirk will never be used again, not even to heal Bakugou’s arm… which will eventually heal enough he can move it just fine… while Chisaki’s boss was healed by doctors. This makes one of the Quirks with the greatest healing power useless and therefore also recovering Chisaki becomes useless since the plot doesn’t know what to do with him (and, to be honest, Chisaki wasn’t even that relevant in the Midoriya/Nagant fight). Really, Chisaki’s Quirk is used only in the Shie Hassaikai arc as a weapon against Heroes and then dropped.

While it’s not a perfect work and it has its mistakes, I can’t remember something of this magnitude being dropped in “Dragon Ball”. We’re talking of a Quirk that can heal everything, be it an illness, an injury or whatever, perfectly. And it gets forgotten.

We move to Eri’s Quirk, ‘Maki Modoshi’ (巻き戻し “Rewind”), which gives the user the ability to reverse a living being's body back to a previous state. This allows the user to undo or bring back injuries or modifications from the present or the past, revert people back to a point before they even existed, and even rewind genetics, basically erasing a Quirk factor. Downsides? Eri doesn’t know how to use it, which can cause her to also lose control of it, making her activate it by mistake or making her unable to stop using it. Also, it’s a power that work through accumulation of an unknown element, so it can go dormant once it’s overused and Monoma can’t help her to learn to use it. Too bad that she never activate it while she’s under Chisaki’s control, that once she uses it too much, Eraser Head will stop her, that she’ll learn to use it just fine on her own just in time to rewind Lemillion and give him back his Quirk when he needs it… but hasn’t accumulated enough power to heal Eraser Head’s sight… yet it has enough power to heal Midoriya’s arms. Never mentioning when Eraser Head stopped her from Rewinding too much Midoriya the first time, her horn wasn’t decreased yet, meaning she still had power… (chapter 161) but when she wakes up from her fever the horn has decreased even if her power wasn’t used at all (Chapter 167), a clear sign this was a retcon to make her power more manageable. Also Eri cuts her horn… which Ectoplasm helped her to do even though they’ve no means to send it to Midoriya… but her horn will regrow back just fine… but it’s pointless as we will never see her using it again since she wants to become a singer… besides… Eri had problems using her own Quirk and Aizawa can do it just fine?

There are basically no rules for all this, it’s just the author adding to it things as the story goes on.

Never mentioning giving Eri such a big healing power which will never be used is kind of bad. Eri doesn’t want to become a healer, she wants to become a singer which is totally fair and she should be allowed to do it… but Eri’s Quirk can literally save the lives of plenty of people, could restore Bakugou’s arm, could have saved Touya, could erase the burn scar from the whole Todoroki family. Eri should be allowed to choose what she wants to do, she’s not a healing machine but… her choosing not to become a healer condemn people who aren’t healed by her to death. This is not a good moral dilemma a series focused on saving people should pose to its readers. Should we force a young girl to become a healer or should we let people die? Horikoshi likely didn’t notice he ended up posing this question when he drew Eri with a regrown horn.

We continue the ‘medical magic’ of Garaki first and of Central Hospital and its doctors later. This is different from the medical machines of “Dragon ball” as we aren’t told beforehand what it does, we just find out that they can do things after they did the things. Garaki can basically resurrect AFO, restore Touya’s body, he can take the rewind bullets and inverse their power so that they go back on rewinding people instead than Quirk factors, it can extract Quirk factors, copy them, modify people so that they can host more Quirk factors but lose their brain or keep it… and somehow Central hospital learns to duplicate its techniques so that Best Jeanist can be put in a state of death or they can save Shuuichi and wake up the boss of the Shie Hassaikai. To the list of the ones capable to use ‘medical magic’ we should probably add Edgeshot, who could magically restore Bakugou’s heart. All this has no rules, we aren’t told beforehand they can do it, ‘medical magic’ becomes just an excuse for when something impossible is done by medicine. The text doesn’t call it ‘magic’ yes, but it’s just the same. Oh, the Shie Hassaikai boss couldn’t wake up anymore… no wait, it can because we have doctors that can NOW wake him up. With all this medical magic that can do the impossible though, becomes hard to accept they can’t save Touya (even though they now have Garaki captive and can ask him how he did it the first time) and they actually ended up doing more damage to Kurogiri or that blood transfusions now kill, ask Himiko.

But all this can be, because there are no rules and so the result is that ‘medical magic’ becomes deus ex machina that moves according to the whims of the author, that it can do everything and nothing at all according to what Horikoshi wants. In the end it becomes unpredictable in a bad way because it destroys the stakes instead than setting them.

“Dragon Ball” had people holding on their chairs as they waited for Goku to finish healing in the medical machine, not because we believed he wouldn’t be healed, but because the rules established the healing would take a certain amount of time and we were worried three other beloved characters would die first. The same will never happen in BNHA, not even when we waited for Bakugou to recover (which had all the potential to do this) as the story didn’t really played up on the struggle of the others against Shigaraki but moved on focusing on other characters.

We go on with ‘Quirk awakening’ a random way to boost a Quirk up at random that all of sudden gets mentioned when Himiko gets her own Quirk awakening. Rules for the Quirk awakening are hazy, you can get it for a near death experience (Himiko) or because you just worry a lot (Geten who worries when Re-Destro burns himself) and it does things at random (Himiko can use the powers of those she transform into but only if she loves them and she’s not too angry, Geten can change ice temperature, Tomura’s decay can spread to other things, Touya also gets ice and so on). There are no rule but there is knowledge, even Enji knows about it yet no one tries to deliberately force it except for Garaki with Tomura? I mean, are we going to believe Enji gave a pass to his chance to get even more powerful? “Dragon Ball” is famous for its power up too, but they often come from training or, since the Saiyans are alien, from near death experience. When this rule becomes established, we’re told about it WAY BEFORE the characters try to use a near death experience for a fast power up. The same goes for the Super Saiyan, who’s also introduced way before Goku will finally manifest such power… and the reason why Saiyans in the past didn’t try for it is because they believed it to be a legend. The moment the possibility is on the table it’s all a run to get such an amazing power up. Quirk awakening? Happens for random reasons, solely when the plot needs it (otherwise why Touya didn’t get it when he nearly burned on Sekoto Peak? Why Hawks didn’t get it when Touya burned him? Why Best Jeanist didn’t get it after his fight with AFO? Why Nighteye didn’t get it either as Midoriya fought Overhaul?) and again, except for Garaki with Tomura, no one truly pursues it… not even in the MLA where people is willing to die for their cause and where apparently only Geten got it due to Re-Destro getting burned.

And should we mention the ‘magical rage power’ which can keep alive Tomura and Touya. Tomura dies but he is brought back to life by his dream and his hatred (Chap 296), Touya shouldn’t have survived a month but his grudge keeps him alive for years without medical aid, clothes, a place to stay, money and a job (Chap 350). Do we need those powers when Tomura could have very well be resurrected by the zap of electricity which made his whole body contract so dramatically but that somehow X-Less didn’t even feel because it was likely retconned as useless or would have killed X-Less? Do we really need to be told Touya would have only survived a month without Garaki’s aid as a way to excuse why they let him escape when a month was more than enough to tattle the truth to his Hero father had he decided to stay at home? Is the magnitude of the revelation they survived thanks to magical rage power worth it? Especially when they won’t manage to pull it out again at the end of the manga?

This is the sort of device the story doesn’t need to have… and that in a way ties to Bakugou’s resurrection as well as we’re told Edgeshot couldn’t resurrect it, Bakugou came back to life thanks to one of Bakugou’s tiny bead of explosive sweat somehow finding its way to his heart through his bloodstream and, instead than blasting Bakugou’s heart in pieces again, just restarting it so that Edgeshot can tell him he came back to life due to his own power as it combines with Edgeshot medical magic and bring Bakugou back to life. Really, we were already being asked to suspend our disbelief when Edgeshot jumped in action and sterilized himself with a soap bubble that somehow he kept on his persona without dirtying it and then started sewing a heart around without any medical degree. Do we need a totally random extra beg for suspension of disbelief that pleads at us through the “rule of cool”?

It’s the poor use of all the devices that can rewind things back to how they were what truly ruins the stakes. As long as the devices are bound by rules that are stated early, they’re part of the world building and the stakes exist and the story thrives on trying to make use of those rules to get the rewind. However when there are no rules or the rules have no use or are told only after the thing happen… well, here the story is moving according to the whims of the writers who use the devices as random deus ex machine to change back the status of things and force the story in the direction they want.

Again:

Horikoshi could have used more cool healing Quirks and rewinding Quirks and even time rewinding Quirks and medical progress if he had done it by first setting the rules and then having the characters navigate through them to use all of the above. Instead it’s all things that pop up at random to fix what can’t be fixed by other means or to make things look cool.

But you can ask suspension of disbelief only for so long and Horikoshi outdid his quota, which is a pity because really, this could have turned a lot better.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha meta #bnha meta #Chisaki Kai #Midoriya Izuku #Shuuzenji Chiyo #Eri #Bakugou Katsuki #Monoma Neito #Aizawa Shouta #Togata Mirio #Ectoplasm #Todoroki Touya #Shigaraki Tomura #Garaki Kyuudai

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hirayalore · 3 days ago

Note

Hi!

I saw you were taking request. Can I please ask for an imagine where reader was Cedric's Slytherin Girlfriend, maybe from a Deatheather Family (Malfoys or Lestranges) and how does she deal With the grief for Cedric knowing that her family Is on the Side of the war that supports the men that killed the love of her life.

Please and thank you in advance If you have the chance to make It!

[ angst | semi-fluff | 2.1k words ]

Nobody really knew about yours and Cedric’s relationship.

It was always reserved in dark corridors, empty classrooms, and places wherein nobody would see how the Hufflepuff boy had a knack of making you, the cold and reserved Malfoy, grin—a laugh even escaping your lips at times you were in a rather good mood.

There wasn’t any formal discussion that made it clear that this thing between you would be kept a secret, really. Instead, it was like an unspoken understanding that you two shared, perhaps due to how different your family backgrounds were and how opposite your characters were as well.

Just the mere fact that he was in Hufflepuff and you were in Slytherin was enough to raise eyebrows, and you weren’t really keen on getting more attention that you already do just because of a personal detail of your life that not everybody had the business of knowing anyway.

But all of that changed when Cedric made the bold move of asking you to go to the Yule ball with him, insisting that if you weren’t going to accept, then he was not going to go.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said with a snort, looking at him from where he’s standing beside you in the Astronomy tower, one of your usual meeting spots after classes. “You’re a Hogwarts champion. That alone forbids you to skip the event.”

“There’s no actual rule that forbids me, love,” he replied, a smirk casting his features. “So, technically, I could skip it if I wanted to.”

“Yes, but it’d be a shame if you chose not to go. It’s not every time you Hufflepuffs have something to brag about,” you teased.

“Then go with me. Accept my offer of being my date, and I’ll gladly attend.”

You watched as Cedric stepped closer to you, a hand brushing away the strands of your hair that managed to sweep over your eyes because of the wind. Your expression softened ever so slightly, the hope in his voice making your tough disposition crumble a bit.

“Are you certain?” you asked. “I mean… if I go with you, you know they’ll start talking.”

“Let them talk. I don’t care.”

“But I do.” You swallowed hard, turning away to avoid his eyes. “I don’t want them to talk bad about you. I already know what they think about me, about my family—but you, Cedric, I wouldn’t want—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and bringing a hand once more close to your face, this time to make you look at him as his thumb guided your chin to face him again. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I get to bring my lovely girl to the dance and spend a marvelous evening with her,” he said, even leaning down to press a light kiss on your lips.

You smiled, your resolve truly fading away. You raised your toes up higher in an attempt to give him another kiss, a gesture that he gladly obliged to. “Fine,” you murmured, “but if Cho Chang ends up crying in the bathroom when she sees us together, I’m not one to blame.”

Cedric laughed loudly, pulling you in for a tight embrace.

And so on the day of the Yule Ball, the entire student body was in shock at the sight of Cedric Diggory with your hand perched onto his arm. He looked proud and happy that you couldn’t help but feel less anxious about the whole thing, convinced that tonight would be the only time the noise would be loud, but after that, everybody would no longer pay your relationship with Cedric any attention.

Thankfully, you were right.

After gossip spread and students talked about the both of you for a couple days, it eventually died down, especially with the Triwizard Tournament still at its peak. However, you couldn’t say the same thing about Draco Malfoy, your cousin, who seemed to think that showing disappointment and disapproval would make you stop dating Cedric.

“He’s a Hufflepuff,” Draco drawled to you one night at the Slytherin common room. “You must be out of your mind, willingly associating yourself with him.”

“I might be,” you deadpanned, flipping through your Transfiguration book.

“Does Father know about this?”

You raised a brow at him, annoyed. “Why would Uncle Lucius be informed of who I’m dating?”

“To talk some sense in you.” He scoffed. “You obviously need it.”

Nonetheless, despite the unsolicited advice you’d often get from Draco about how you should live your life, it was generally tolerable. You’ve always been good at tuning out opinions that didn’t hold any significance to you, so you were quick to adjust at the sudden shift of being once in a secret relationship with Cedric to now with everybody knowing what’s going on.

For what it’s worth though, at least you didn’t have to sneak around the castle just to get some private time with your boyfriend. This new sense of liberty granted you the opportunity of easily hanging out with him at the courtyard or by the lake, letting others finally catch a glimpse of how Cedric could surprisingly bring out the best in you and transform you into a smiling machine.

“Your fan club’s staring,” you would tell him whenever you noticed a bunch of girls gawking at you both, whispering among themselves.

Cedric would glance at them, prompting them to pretend that they weren’t doing just that. “They’re not looking at me.”

“Oh, then are they looking at me?”

“Naturally.” He smirked. “Hasn’t anybody told you that you’re very easy on the eyes?”

As more weeks passed, you were getting used to the whole arrangement and have become more at ease with it. You began to be more affectionate towards Cedric, even when the two of you weren’t behind closed doors, and you let it slide whenever he felt particularly cheeky and stole kisses on your temple or lips.

The attachment you had for him grew with each passing day, and that didn’t mix well with the dangerous tasks he had to do for the Triwizard Tournament. First, it was with those vicious dragons, then for the second task, you were chosen to be the person that Cedric had to save in order to advance to the next round, held hostage by merpeople at the bottom of the Black lake.

It made you realize that the tournament truly was no small matter, and that if he wasn’t going to continue being smart about it, he might come to face a more dangerous situation.

“Be careful tomorrow, okay?” You told him the night before the final mission. “Don’t even think about winning. Just getting out of there safely would be fine.”

He chuckled, his arms that were around you to combat the cold night tightening. “Aren’t Slytherins supposed to be ambitious? Why are you discouraging me to win?”

“I’m not discouraging you to win. I’m merely warning you to get back safely.”

“And if I don’t?” There was that mischievous personality that only showed itself whenever he was with you. “Would you deprive me of attention again like you did last time when you got mad at me?”

You playfully slapped his chest, causing him to emit another chuckle. “I’ll do worse.”

“Oh, but there’s nothing worse than being ignored by the love of your life, I’m afraid.” He further teased, planting a lingering kiss on the corner of your mouth. “No worse punishment than that, unfortunately.”

But Cedric was wrong.

There was a worse punishment of being ignored by the love of your life.

It was witnessing the love of your life dead on the ground, brought by Harry Potter who shouted of Voldemort’s return, silence ensuing at the Quidditch Pitch where the maze for the last task stood.

As Amos Diggory wailed and cried for his son, you were frozen at your spot by the stands, unable to process what was happening before you. You couldn’t look away from Cedric’s lifeless body, couldn’t bring yourself to flash your gaze elsewhere but to his eyes that remained staring above.

If it wasn’t for your friend who had the initiative of shielding you away from the sight, spinning your body to the other direction, you would have remained staring at him with this horrible feeling arising in your chest, making you want to vomit.

“Cedric,” you managed to choke out to your friend, tearing up and shaking. “Cedric—he’s… he—”

Before you could finish speaking, you collapsed on the ground, vision blurring and the whole world beneath you seemingly shaking. Your hands were getting clammy, your heart was beating louder inside your chest, and it was getting difficult to breathe. It was like your lungs were shrinking and there was nothing you could do about it.

“_____,” your friend held your shoulders, “____, let’s—”

But whatever it is that she said, it didn’t register properly inside your brain.

Because as you sat there on the ground, gasping for air and feeling your throat tighten, all you could think about was Cedric Diggory and how you were never going to be with him ever again.

****

After his death, nobody saw you again.

They didn’t see you during the memorial, they didn’t see you during the graduation, and whenever they asked your friends about your whereabouts, they told them they had no idea as well.

The truth was you had run away. You had run away from your home after confirming their connection with the Dark Lord and discovering that it was one of his followers, Peter Pettigrew, that killed Cedric.

No matter how much your mother screamed at you, how your father threatened you from going against their will, how they had the audacity to force you to be in allegiance with Voldemort after being made aware of your relationship with Cedric—you still found the courage to rebel against them, insulting their loyalty to the wrong person before moving out and apparating as far away as possible with almost nothing but a few galleons to survive by.

Now, you resided at a small Muggle village, working as some sort of assistant to an elderly couple who ran a flourishing bakery in town.

They didn’t ask much about your past when you arrived at their doorstep, handing out the flyer that said they needed a diligent helper for the business. Instead they chose to help you out, somehow understanding that you were only a child forced into adulthood who needed guidance and care from people (in this case, perhaps them) who had the means to give it.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Mrs. West, the elderly woman, called as you said your goodbyes, telling that you were off to visit a friend.

“I won’t!” You smiled.

Walking a few steps away from the village and off to an area you knew wouldn’t have people standing around, you took out your wand from your bag and apparated to the place you made sure to come to every month—

Cedric’s grave

Even though it has almost been a year since the tragedy happened, the memory of his lifeless body was still fresh in your mind. In a way, you reckoned you never had the closure you should have had at the time of his passing, as you didn’t even have the guts to face his father, too ashamed with yourself at the knowledge that it was one of your ‘people’ that was responsible for Cedric’s untimely demise.

But things were getting better, and you were in the process of dealing with the grief that came along with losing a very important person in your life. Somehow it helped that you were no longer part of the world that took him away, that you no longer had to interact with your family that was just as vile as their leader and reminded you of the most horrible occurrence to happen in your existence.

With a press of your lips, you crouched down and took the old flowers on the grass where his grave was, replacing it with fresh daffodils that reminded you of him. They were yellow, like the colors of his Hogwarts house, and symbolized rebirth which in the back of your head, was what you desired Cedric who you also knew was impossible to be brought back.

“Rest easy, love,” you whispered, sweeping fallen leaves off his grave stone. “I’ll try to live how you might have wanted me to.”

And you do try, every single day, carrying his memory in your heart, believing that although the ache you feel because of his absence will perhaps live on for an eternity—things will get better, just as Cedric always reminded you so.

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ author’s note: hehehe,, went in and wrote a little back story too before writing the angsty part 🥲 to the anonie who requested this, i hope you liked it!

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #cedric x reader #cedric diggory fanfiction #diggory x reader #cedric diggory drabbles #cedric diggory scenarios

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rowie264 · 3 hours ago

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Vampire!Jinx x fem!Reader

took me a while to write it (i do everything out of inspiration) Warnings: blood drinking(duh), not a romanticized image of vampire's bite, crazy reader (?), smut

“It will be fine. Even if you won’t be able to control yourself – although I doubt that will happen – I’ll stop you.” You reassured, attempting to persuade Jinx to feed on your blood, despite her stubborn refusal.

You understood her reluctance to accept your offer. She was concerned about causing you harm, afraid she won’t be able to stop. But you had your reasons to keep pursuing her. Each time she snuck into Piltover at night to feed, you were consumed with worry. It would be much safer and more convenient if she just drank from you.

“Please… let me do this for you.” You asked almost pleadingly, gently stroking her lower back as she sat in your lap.

Jinx’s resolve was crumbling. How could she deny you when you were like this, so willing, so trusting, offering yourself to her? Her eyes flickered back to your exposed skin, a sight made her throat burn with need.

“Damn, toots… why are you so...” Jinx grunts nuzzling into your neck. She could hear the steady thump of your pulse, the scent of your blood filling her nostrils.

“… convincing?”

“… yeah.” She mumbles, a little annoyed by the fact that she wasn’t able to resist your gentle persuasion. It seemed to happen every single time.

Slightly pulling back, she looked at your neck again. Her tongue unconsciously darted out to wet her lips. A small, involuntary gesture that betrayed her hunger. She still hesitated so instead of biting right away she started placing chaste kisses there.

Your expression softened even more and you closed eyes, enjoying small ministrations. “It’s okay. Do it.” You whispered, pulling her closer to show your willingness.

Jinx lets out a sharky exhale, muttering about trying to be gentle, and takes one final breath before sinking her fangs into your flesh. Her eyes flutter shut as she draws the first swallow of your blood into her mouth. The taste was intoxicating, warm and sweet and utterly perfect.

You knew it would be painful, yet still weren’t able to stop sharp hiss leaving your mouth. The bite was unlike anything written about in vampire novels. It was draining and hurting and with each passing second you felt weaker from blood loss.

And yet it didn’t matter. It was a small price to pay for Jinx’s wellbeing. And besides… maybe physically it was indeed unpleasant but mentally? It felt euphoric, knowing she savored the taste of your blood, that it mixed with her own and literally prolonged her life… it was probably crazy yet you couldn’t help but feel happy about whole thing.

Jinx’s hold on you becomes tight and possessive as she presses her body closer against yours, seeking more of you. She could feel the effects of your blood coursing through her veins, filling her with strength and clarity she hadn’t felt for days. The pain in her stomach subsided, replaced with a warm, almost dizzying feeling of satisfaction and a growing need for more of you, more of your taste, more of everything. Her mind buzzed with a strange, primal sort of satisfaction. She was feeding, and it was all because you let her, because you wanted her to.

Eventually, Jinx's need for more subsides, leaving her feeling lightheaded and strangely content. She slowly withdraws her fangs from your neck and retracts them, her breath fanning over your skin, the sound more like a soft whimper than anything else.

She pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, her eyes still slightly hazy from the feeding, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. She looked almost drunk, her cheeks flushed red, her lips stained with your blood.

“There you go.” You give her weak fond smile bringing hand up to wipe the blood and let her lick it from your thumb. “Feeling better?”

“U-uhu.” She swallows hard and nods, looking back at the bite and worrying she might’ve been too rough, that you’ve been in more pain from her feeding than you’d let on. “Hurts much..?”

“No, I'm fine. Just feeling a bit dizzy.” You replied honestly, not daring to lie to her. She hated lies.

“You should lie down.” She whispers, before gently moving shifting her weight off you and helping you slowly lower yourself onto the bed. She then settles beside you, resting her head on your shoulder and lifting one leg over your hip.

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence, savoring each other's company and cozy embrace.

You don’t know how long you’ve been lying with her like this but you were already starting to feel at ease when she began nuzzling and kissing your neck once more. Only that she was much less hesitant this time.

“Jinx?” you inquire with a playful smile as she delicately traces her fingertips along your abdomen, making you feel a tingle spread through your lower belly.

She doesn’t respond immediately, her lips teasingly nibbling at your earlobe, while her hand explores further, dipping lower and cupping between your legs. She maintains the gentle pressure for few moments enjoying your subtle involuntary grinding.

“Wanna taste you a little more.” Jinx smirks slyly, her fingers deftly hooking into the waistband of your shorts and panties. With deliberate slowness, she drags them both down your legs, tossing them aside. Then she moves downwards, opening your thighs wider and eventually finding herself nestled between them.

“And besides… wanna do something in return for ya.” With that she starts kissing and biting your thighs from top to bottom, leaving marks as she loved to do. Her hands grip your hips firmly, keeping you anchored, as she took her time to get you worked up.

When Jinx finally reached her destination, she dragged her tongue over your slick folds in slow teasing manner, making you gasp and tremble. She pauses briefly to lick her lips at the sight and taste of your arousal, a low hum of pleasure escaping her. “Even sweeter than your blood, toots…” She returns to her oral ministrations, alternating between gentle lapping and firmer sucks, making sure to tease your clit just enough to send sparks through your body without bringing you to orgasm too quickly.

With every delicate flick of her tongue, every suckle that drew out your juices, your breathing grew more ragged, grip on the sheets intensifying. Her strong hands kept you from bucking your hips and grinding against her mouth, granting her complete control over your pleasure.

The vibrations of your needy whimpers and gasps only urge Jinx on, driving her to take more liberties with her tongue. She plunges it deeper inside you, relishing in the wetness coating her chin and throat as she laps up your essence greedily. One hand releases its hold on your hip to dip between your folds, finding your throbbing clit and rolling it between her thumb and index finger in tandem with her oral attentions.

“J-Jinx...!” You gasp out, throwing head back onto the pillow. The pressure built mercilessly inside you, threatening to erupt at any moment.

As moans turned into mindless cries of ecstasy, each one punctuated by a twitch of your back or a surge of hips seeking more stimulation, Jinx redoubles her efforts to push you closer to the edge, quickening the pace of her fingers on your swollen clit and matching the increased fervor of deep thrusts. She devours you with single-minded determination, desperate to make you come undone.

Your entire frame tensed, muscles straining against the sheets as your spine bowed sharply off the bed. Your hips jerked erratically, seeking more friction as the first powerful waves of orgasm wracked your body. You channel pulsed fiercely around her tongue, bathing it in copious amounts of your essence.

Through hazed vision, you registered Jinx still lavishing worship upon your sensitized pussy as aftershocks continued to rattle you with delicious intensity, leaving you helpless and utterly consumed by blissful surrender.

#arcane #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #arcane x reader

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whyareyoulookingatmelikethat · 2 days ago

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[22]: Paranoid

Gah...fuck you burnout...

No Im not dead, sorry for the hiatus...

“Ping!”

The sound through your headphones was like music to your ears. One more machine done.

You slowly read the common text lines on the screen, sprinting away to the machine right across from you.

The higher floors you got to, the harder this became. Most of the “all common twisteds” floors were fine, but then there were maps that because you had so many twisteds you could just get a centimeter of a machine done each time you went out. And then there was the nightmare that is Twisted Shelly, making it EVEN SLOWER.

You let out a groan as the eye symbol popped up again on your screen and you swiveled the mouse to face the direction you ran. Quickly, you turned the screen behind you to see an annoying Flutter chasing you.

You had made nicknames for the twisteds like Toodles, Looey, Gigi, and of course, Flutter. She was “Bobblehead”. You know, like the weird wheel of fortune things? Her head moved from side to side, but her gaze never broke from that one spot, aka you.

You gotta say, the developers did a decent job on her. She ALMOST made you shiver once.

Blackouts didn’t help her case either. Not any more scary than she was on regular floors.

Really, it was always annoying when people freeloaded in blackouts or when they were on one heart just because they were “scared”. THE WHOLE POINT OF THE GAME IS TO DO STUFF AND THEN DIE. THE FLOORS ARE INFINITE, THERE ISN’T AN END POINT.

Plus, the more machines you do, the more ichor you get! People race for machines for this very reason!

(Ahem cough cough sorry for rambling about my frustrations anyways uh)

Silence as the eye symbol crossed out, indicating she had lost you. She turned around and flew in the other direction immediately, acting as if nothing had ever happened.

Stupid…

The dripping of the ichor as you worked on the machine was a bit odd to you in the beginning. A strange noise for aure, but you had gotten used to it. Still, even now as your character, Astro, turned the wheel with his magic, it still was almost foreign.

You never knew if it would be like normal to you ever, but that wasn't the point.

The machine’s light turned from blood red to a grass green, and a text box appeared automatically upon its completion. You briefly scanned over the words, before boredly returning to your gaze on the speed candy a bit away from you.

And then you stopped.And you looked back at the text.

“This never gets easier.”

…Was that a line?

Never in your whole time of playing Dandy’s World had you ever seen that line. Was this new dialogue? But…they never added new dialogue for characters, ever.It at least sounded normal, something he would say, but it still made you raise an eyebrow in pure confusion.

Squinting, you continued on after realising you had been standing in the middle of a large area, where twisteds could get you easily.

You resolved to look that up on the wiki later, picking up the speed candy with a single press of the E key.

But it continued.The next machine you did, there was another “new line”. This time even weirder than the first.

“3 more…? Can we rest first?”

You glanced up at the bar above, and indeed it said 12/15 machines.

…Would Qwel really put a line in the game that breaks the fourth wall?

She had to have, though, as there was the proof right in front of you. A shimmering blue textbox with those words directly imprinted on it.

Or was that just based on circumstances?

Trying to ignore it once again, you finished your 13th machine.

This time he said: “Do you not know what the word rest means?”

You don’t know a time where you’ve been more invested in what the toons actually say.

“I…do…”

Yeah ok, maybe you’ve been doing machines fast. But how did…?

You leaned closer to the screen, curious. But nothing happened. Nothing weird was going on.

And then you screamed and fell out of your chair as your character turned to look right at you.

“Then show that you know it.”

You stayed on your fallen chair, too scared to move despite the plastic digging into your arm and surely leaving scratches.

What the fuck?

Your hands felt numb- no, your mind felt numb. This has to been a dream. Right? This is a dream!

You didn’t have the courage to look at the screen again; the courage to get up. You just sat curled up in the cubby under your desk.

And your mind was flooded.

Thoughts were drowning your mind out in a field of static. “What if”’s plagued you, toying with your emotions. You couldn’t help it. If they were real, and…and that dialogue was genuine…then they surely didn’t want to do this, right?

He was probably angry. They were probably all angry. All the characters you had ever played. Angry that you had subjected them to this torture where they were forced to die over and over again.

Forced to watch their teammates dwindle down. Forced to use these items as you pleased to pick them up. Forced to be puppets on strings just for your entertainment.

Your entertainment. Your pleasure. Your ENJOYMENT.

You were a monster.

You didn’t even notice the salty taste of tears slipping into your mouth.

#dandys world #dandys world x reader #astro x reader #angst #fuck you writers block #fuck you burnout #sorry if you all are unhappy with my hiatus

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481mclarg · 3 days ago

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Scared to love you | AL65

★ I've never been good at telling people how I feel, but you make me want to try.

STLY • FANFIC + SMAU

• Arthur Leclerc x Male!Oc Driver

« K » Sorry for being late. I have a horrible migraine + the whole city run out of power (?) + 35 fucking °C

(bue, no estoy seguro si así se dice, pero la cuestión es que se cortó la luz en todo este pueblo de mierda donde vivo). (el verano es una verga).

Warnings: insecurity/anxiety? (being afraid to come out)

[ 💻 ] Google News. 2023.

BREAKING. Matteo Lombardi to race for Ferrari in 2024.

Carlos Sainz Jr.'s departure from Ferrari was something that no one expected, and the fact that the Scuderia didn't even give the fans time to recover from the news before announcing Lombardi as his replacement was even more shocking.

The Maranello team had an Italian back in the top category and one of the youngest drivers on the grid. His great results in the past couldn’t be denied or questioned, but what was feared was that it was a hasty move on Ferrari's part. Other teams had already experienced what it was like to promote a young driver too early.

That pressure was transmitted to Matteo. He knew he couldn't disappoint, he had to make his team proud, his country, Giancarlo, his family, his friends...

Being Charles' teammate was strange. He felt like he was constantly hiding something from the Monegasque, which made him nervous. The fact that his voice and accent were so similar to Arthur's didn't help.

Arthur was a subject he didn't know if he wanted to discuss with Charles. The eldest knew that they had at least been friends, but it didn't seem like his brother had told him anything about what had happened between them on vacation, even though he often makes comments that seem a bit strange.

He preferred not to give it much importance. In the end, he hadn't even spoken much to Arthur again. He felt a bit sad for Arthur; he had wanted to maintain their friendship. At the same time, he was grateful because he didn't know if he would have been able to talk to him without remembering Barcelona.

Everything related to the country, Spain, and its city now related to Arthur. It seemed like a curse. Maybe it was a spell from the Monegasque himself so he could never forget it, so that in one way or another, he would be present in his mind.

He didn't see him much either. His contract in Formula 2 had ended, joining the Le Mans Series and distancing him a little from the world of Formula. He also left the Ferrari Drivers Academy, so if he didn't go to see his brother at the Formula 1 races, he had no chance to meet him.

Arthur didn't talk about Matteo with his brother either, even though the older one also made comments to him and asked if their friendship was surviving the distance of not seeing each other on the track on weekends.

"Yes, everything is fine" he lied. Charles smiled, reminding him that he didn't have to worry, like he had told him in that call.

The younger one wished that things hadn't changed between them. He wished he didn't have to lie to his brother about his friendship with his teammate. He hadn't spoken much with Matteo, and he wouldn't say that they were on bad terms, but there was clearly a pending talk that neither of them dared to bring up. It was easier to keep quiet and look the other way than to resolve it.

The Italian had been clear: "I'm going to focus on my career." He didn't want personal relationships. He didn't have the time. He wouldn't waste his energy on anything other than Ferrari. He understood that. He had to. He'd seen him work hard for years. He didn't want to be the one to ruin his life's work.

Although he understood Matteo's point of view, he couldn't say he shared it. He sensed a fear in Matteo that wasn't typical of the boy who left everything on the track. He used to risk everything in every race. Why did he look terrified now? He was more careful -he justified- not to say that he was simply scared.

Scared of losing.

He had always been afraid of ruining everything, so he played it safe. Without questioning, without trying. On the track, it was easy. He could learn when a maneuver would work and when it was better to wait; in life, he couldn't know until he tried. Until he failed and learned from the mistake. But Matteo could not conceive of failing. He could not allow it.

"Would he have acted the same way if I had gotten a seat in Formula One?" He could not know, but he did know that from his position, risking a future seat or the current one at Le Mans, he would act.

Why not? Why not be the ones to make that difference? Why wait for someone else to act, to decide what he was going to do? He understood that he could lose support, but why did he want the support of intolerant people? Who, even if he didn't speak, would still know that they do not support him?

Yes, he was going to attract a different look on him. He would be judged even for how he breathes, but what does it matter? If he doesn’t do it, he knows that he will judge himself for the same thing. For being a coward, for being able to make a difference, for being able to show others, to show Matteo that you can be a driver even if you are attracted to another man.

At the same time, it was a kind of new challenge: to show people that he could continue to have successful results, that his private life and preferences did not interfere with his knowledge and skills. It even sounded stupid to believe that they could question his performance as a driver because of who he was with in bed.

First, he had to talk to his family. It would be better to talk about it in person, get over that silly nervousness, and prepare for the time to make it public. It was also important that his family heard it directly from his mouth and not from what others were going to post on social media or news portals. He wanted to seek their support, a hug from his mother, ask what his father would have thought despite already knowing that he loved his family no matter what.

He really hoped to be able to reconnect with Matteo, to resolve the pending things they had left in that hotel in Barcelona but for now, he could at least thank him silently for helping to know himself a little better. To discover a part that he didn't know or that he didn't know he had. Thank him for giving to him the courage to speak out, and the new purpose of showing that nothing that happens off the track matters when talking about a driver's career.

[ 📱 ] Instagram. 11 Jun. 2024.

arthurleclerc65

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arthurleclerc65: happy pride month gays 💙🩷

⇲ Comments

user293: !?!?!?!?

user40: hellou gays

user135: I hope you get better soon🙏 being French (by choice) is not natural

user592: hello !? he just come out !!?? like- ???!!!

charlesleclerc16: 👏👏♥️

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user302: 🩷💜💙?

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matteolombardi51

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481MCLARG | 26 . 01 . 2025 | CORREGIDO

#formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x male oc #maleoc #arthur leclerc x male oc #fanfic #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #formula 2 #f2 smau #f2 fanfic #STLY

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somekindofsentience · 2 days ago

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ALRIGHT

if no-one is going to GIVE ME specific info on Hajime Hinata's parents then i will MAKE MY OWN specific info on Hajime Hinata's parents.

(or rather i'll present several possible scenarios and you can choose your favourite.)

Let's recap what we know about them first: they are very normal, they are rich (enough to send their son to Hope's Peak), they have a tendency to slap money over Hajime's problems (which is evident in their choice to send him there and also sign to the Kamukura project), and Hajime's insecurities were either unknown to his parents or never addressed by them. For the purposes of this, I'm assuming he's an only child, as there isn't evidence to suggest otherwise.

I'm going to hesitantly rule out the idea that Hajime's parents were two very talented people who put a lot of pressure on their son to also be talented - it just doesn't strike me as a very "normal" family. I think it's possible, though. Hajime's admiration of talent could come solely from seeing talented peers or walking by Hope's Peak every day; it doesn't have to be family-centric.

I have a few possible scenarios. The first is the classic "business dad", a rich father with no time for his son. I feel like that makes logical sense, and you could make an argument that it's "normal". It's clear emotional neglect has played a role in Hajime's deep insecurities. If Hajime's mother had a mindset of "Boys shouldn't cry", that emotional neglect would lead him to brush aside his problems.

I was also thinking about what is considered "normal" by standards of abuse. Verbal abuse and emotional neglect, for example, are often normalised (let's be fucking clear- they should not be.) in households as a result of cycles of abuse. Those two in particular are often harder to notice. Thinking stereotypically, if his father was verbally abusive (perhaps about academics or something similar?) and both his parents were emotionally negligent, that would mean his insecurity goes unresolved and possibly worsens when he makes mistakes (although that might not make sense, since Hajime is quite confident in his general abilities, just insecure about lack of talent).

Alternatively, we could consider how perceptive Hajime is as a result of his upbringing. He's very emotionally aware of others, and seeks to understand them more than anything else. If his parents had relationship issues his entire life, and it fell to him to comfort them or resolve the problem, it might explain his behaviour with regards to that. It'd also lead him to prioritise his own issues less.

Another option is just distrust. Parents can mess up handling their child emotionally and completely ruin a connection with them- it does happen. It's very possible that Hajime's parents have been trying to get him to open up for years, but he can't trust them because of problems in the past. As such, they'd know something was wrong, but not what it is or how to deal with it.

One thing that continues to stump me - I have no fucking idea how Hope's Peak got them to sign the Kamukura project. What would be reasonable enough initially for results to come back that your son fucking died and for you to not sue?

I will say, considering how confused Kyoko is about her own life in her FTEs, I wouldn't be surprised if much of Hajime's life has been erased to hide his lack of talent. What is odd is how much he doesn't notice this- other characters mention their families, worry about friends, desire to leave (let's be clear, nowhere near as much as in THH); if Hajime's memory of these things was hazy, wouldn't that strike him as strange? Obviously it could go into a whole "well he forgot that he forgot!" situation, but that feels like an excuse.

Is it possible that his family doesn't matter much to Hajime himself? If so, why? There's a number of reasons why a person might not value their family- possibly because it isn't a safe space for them. That's also something to consider.

I dunno. These are mostly rambles. Some of this is taken from my own life experiences. I'm being very generalised about this, since I don't know much about cultural specifics, which I think might play a role.

#tw: abuse mentions #danganronpa #sdr2 #hajime hinata #i think too much about this stuff #i need more INFOOOO AGHHHH #makoto's sister got a whole ass side game!!!! and hajime literally never mentions his parents!!

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pompomqt · 2 days ago

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Journey to the West Chapter 70

Wukong when he finds out that the demon can't even touch the captured queen under threat of unimaginable torments:

Welcome back to this week's chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest where we continue our adventure's in the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom, so let's get into it shall we?

So Monkey goes to confront the demon, but it turns out that it is just a vanguard who works for Jupiter's rival, and he's here to kidnap two more palace maidens to serve the queen. Given that this is a minion demon, and things never end well for them, it should be no surprise that Wukong easily kicks his ass, and breaks his lance, causing the demon to flee.

Rather then pursue the demon, goes back to the fiend shelter and tells Tripitaka and the King that it's safe to come out now. The king gives Monkey even more wine, but it turns out it's still a bit to early to have celebratory drinks, since the demon had evidently set part of the palace on fire in his escape. In response to this Monkey tosses his wine goblet into the air- the King is worried that he somehow offended Monkey, but just then another messenger comes to tell them that a rain that smells suspiciously of wine, managed to put out the fire. Which, I'll admit, is a power that I'm not quite sure how to add to Wukong's list yet, but I'm sure I'll figure it out.

Anyways Wukong explains to the King that the monster just now was a simple Vanguard, so to solve this problem he'll have to go to the source, so he asks for directions to the demon's cave. The king tells him it's about a fifty days hike, and is about three thousand miles south from here. Upon hearing this, Monkey tells Pigsy and Sandy to guard Tripitaka while he goes there to deal with the problem himself. The King tries to offer him some provisions and even more wine, but Monkey doesn't have time for that, and takes off.

So Monkey arrives at the mountain in record time, and it looks like a nice place, if it wasn't for the giant mushroom cloud of fire and sand shooting up for it that is. The sand even gets up his nose giving him a sneezing fit, until he uses two small pebbles to block his nostrils. Just as Monkey transforms into a sparrowhawk to steel himself to fly through the flames, they disappear just as soon as they appeared. And whats more he hears the sound of a brass gong, and see's a demon messenger heading for the Kingdom.

Since it never hurts to eavesdrop, Wukong transforms into a small fly and lands on the demon's bag. And boy does this messenger love talking to himself, since he gives us and Wukong a whole unprompted spiel about how Jupiter's Rival kidnapped the Queen three years ago, but can't even touch her. And how he keeps kidnapping palace maidens but driving them to death, and now that his Vanguard was defeated by Wukong, he's off to deliver a declaration of war to the kingdom. Out of all of this what Wukong is mostly curious about is the bit where the Demon apparently can't even touch the Queen, so he resolves to learn more.

Monkey flies ahead of the minion demon, before changing into a young daoist. Wukong questions the fiend and learns that when the queen was abducted an immortal presented her with a divine robe, and once she put it on needle like prickles sprouted all over her body, that made it so even the slightest touch would cause terrific pain. Which, good for the queen, but also kind of bad for Wukong, since it complicates the rescue mission if even he can't touch her.

Now that he has the information he needs, Wukong kills the messenger, and conveniently finds a name tag that says his name was Going and Coming. Monkey decides to bring the demon's body with him while he goes to report back to the others. Pigsy when he see's Wukong toting the demon's dead body around, decides to try and take credit for himself, by stabbing the demon with his rake as soon as Monkey shows up with him. Monkey is unimpressed and points out that the demon was already dead to 'head explosion by concussive force'.

Anyways, Monkey has bigger problems then Pigsy being Pigsy and asks Pigsy to bring Tripitaka to him. Monkey gives Tripitaka the declaration of war that the minion demon had and tells him not to let the king see it. Wukong then shows the slain demon to the King, who responds by trying to give him even more wine! Which is honestly starting to worry me, is there a reason that this King is trying so hard to get Wukong drunk? Monkey is once again able to dodge this offer by asking the King if he has any memento's that the queen left him. Or if not a memento just any object of importance to the queen. Since if he wants the queen to let him rescue her, he needs something to show that he is on her side.

So the king says that the Queen does have a favorite pair of bracelets that she used to wear all the time, but wasn't wearing on the day of her kidnapping so the King still has them. The king brings out the bracelets and after putting them on his arm, Monkey once again takes off to Unicorn Mountain. Back at the demon cave, Monkey see's the demon army readying themselves for war. Rather then just killing them all, instead Monkey turns into Going and Coming, and goes back to where he slayed him to pick up his gong and banner. With his disguise he is able enter the cave no problem to talk to Jupiter's rival.

The disguised Wukong says that he got beat up by the Kings army, who are totally prepared for war. The King however isn't worried about an army as long as he has his secret weapon. He tells monkey to go tell the Queen that her husband is coming to rescue her, even though he will certainly fail, since it might be nice to get her hopes up for a while.

So Monkey goes to talk to the queen, who while very pretty, is also very unhappy. Monkey tells her the message from Jupiter's rival about how the declaration of war was sent, but he also tells her that he has a message from her actual husband that is for her ears only. Once the queen tells her servants to clear out, Monkey transforms back into his true form, and explains that he is a monk sent here to rescue her. As proof of that, Monkey shows her the bracelets he got from the king. The queen tears up upon seeing them, and is more then willing to accept his help.

So Monkey asks her what kind of treasure he has that releases all that fire, smoke and sand, and she explains that it is caused by three bells. The fire and smoke are bad enough, but the sand is deadly poisonous, and even Monkey admits that the sand must be pretty dangerous if it could even make him sneeze. So he asks her where he hides them, and she tells him that he never takes them off, which means that Monkey is going to need her help, to get them away from him.

In order to get the bells, the Queen is going to have to seduce the demon into giving them to her, so she can pass them on to Monkey so he can take out the demon. The Queen agrees, so Monkey goes back to Jupiter's Rival disguised as Going and Coming, and tells him the good news! Since Monkey told her, that the King doesn't want her anymore, she now wants his company!

So the Demon sits down to talk with the Queen, but is still to afraid to touch her, and the Queen tells him that she doubts his feelings for her. Since if she was really his queen, she'd be in charge of looking after the various treasures of the palace, but he's never given her anything like this. However she heard that he had some kind of special bells that must be treasure, so how about he leave them to her to look after?

The Demon hands over the bells without hesitation, but warns her to be careful with them, and never shake them, so she just puts them on the dressing table and calls for some drinks. While the Queen is busy distracting the King, Monkey takes the bells and tries to sneak out with them, however on his way out he gives them a little jangle, that causes a huge fire and sandstorm. This unsurprisingly puts the demon cave on high alert, which causes Monkey to drop the bells in order to transform into a fly in order to hide.

The demon's seal all the doors leaving Monkey trapped in hiding for now, and they remark that it must have been Sun Wukong who stole the bells, but luckily he didn't manage to take them out of the wind and expose them to natural wind.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation, distance reduction, vanishing in a flash of light, super healing, transforming others, Invisibility, Wind Immunity, Medicine Making, and putting out fire from a distance with a glass of wine. Demon Kill Count: 712 + Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1039 God's Defeated: 23 + Unknown number Defeats: 7 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law, looting corpses, trading counterfeit goods, criminal threat, animal abuse, Assisting or Instigating Escape, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud, Disorderly Conduct, Joyriding and unauthorized practice of medicine Cry Count: 11 + 3 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 4

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka and the Tang Monk Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization, Heart Sutra, Meditation, and Being Heaven's Specialist Little Guy Cry Count: 35 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 63 Paralyzed by fear: 6 Bandit Problems: 3 Kidnapped by demons: 11 Falling Off Horses: 11

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, Sword Dancing and Magic Pee Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 4 Kidnapped by demons: 3

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring, size enhancement, CPR and Shoveling Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 15 + Unknown number of minions Kidnapped by Demons: 7 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 4 Cry Count: 2 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping, arson, defamation, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud, Theft, Forcible entry, Disrupting a Funeral, Violating Tree Law and Arson

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater, Cloud soaring, and fetching water from a well. Demon Kill Count: 1 + Unknown number of minions. Kidnapped by Demons: 5 Human Kill Count: 1 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, desecration of a human corpse, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption and Arson

#journey to the west #jttw read through #jttw #journeythroughjourneytothewest #sun wukong #tang sanzang #zhu wuneng #sha wujing #Don't you just love it when the bad guys say their evil plans out loud for the world to hear?

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evie-doesnt-write · 16 days ago

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The thing is like I think if you wanted to compare s10 Sam trying to find a way to remove the Mark of Cain with anything, I think s6 Dean putting Sam’s soul back is more similar than the whole Gadreel thing

#which is funny because like moc!dean and soulless!sam themselves aren’t parallels to me #like s4 demon blood is a more similar arc #but like resolving that whole thing more so #hmm maybe i will change my mind later #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #s9 #s6 #s10 #feel free to diagree and make an argument otherwise… very late here so brain is not working

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fifthnailinstevesbat · 9 months ago

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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

#just been having steddie post season 4 thoughts #been missing the era of the fandom just sort of starting during that time between vol 1 and 2 #how every fic had their own little way of resolving the upside down/vecna problem just written into afew small paragraphs #really just getting to know these characters as a pairing #most importantly before seeing them as a couple #seeing them as friends #how they would genuinely interact and get along #what their dynamics would look like #steddie early days truly have my whole entire heart #coming onto tumblr the weeks following vol1 of s4 was magical #anywho yeah non vol2 compliant steddie for you #more so just #eddie didn’t die steddie for you #they become friends bc truly i actually believe that had he lived they would have #it just makes sense #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #robin buckley #dustin henderson #also lmk if i should keep adding to this…might abyways bc i’m enjoying this #steddie fic #steddie fic idea #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction

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