#em barrett

[agstricker18]

Palaye Royale discography breakdowns. Enjoy!

This is only updated to what I have completed.

[jolieeason]

Bookish Travels---July 2024 Destinations

I saw this meme on It’s All About Books and thought, I like this!! So, I decided to do it once a month also. Many thanks to Yvonne for originally posting this!! This post is what it says: Places I travel to in books each month. Books take you to places you would never get to. Bon Voyage!! Please let me know if you have read these books or traveled to these areas. Countries I visited the…

[maddytheweird]

@encre-sanguine

[sean-shifted-wake]

5 may - don’t call me pretty (gayle)

23 june - lie (nessa)

30 june - vampire (olivia)

13 july - what was i made for (billie)

2023 is officially

sad girl summer

[royale-ly-obsessed]

I Found 747 on the Stapler at my Work :)

[worldsbiggestnerd101]

screams in Jason dean

yeah ok i see it i looked him up but also consider: veronica

[dr-viles-laboratory]

More tedposting (these ones are older but I found em so. Yknow how it is)

[heyho-simonrussellbeale]

Syd Barrett (22), recently ex-Pink Floyd, encounters novelist E M Forster (89) in King’s College, Cambridge in 1968.

Their meeting in this dramatisation by Roger James Elsgood of Haydn Middleton’s novel of the same name leads to a conversation between two men belonging to very different eras of the 20th century and at markedly different stages in their lives, about the loss and the continued absence of creativity.

Starring Simon Russell Beale as E M Forster, Tyger Drew-Honey as Syd Barrett and Madeleine Leslay as a college bedder.

29 days left to listen

[bi-writes]

more little thoughts about curvy!sunshine!fem!reader and dark!simon (18+)

thinking about being so indifferent to his violence because it has never been directed at you. you had a bad night at the pub--an asshole tried to grab your ass in the brand new white dress you bought, with a puffy little mini skirt, and you had wanted to wear it out and get dressed up. the man had ruined your night; you just wanted to spend it with simon, drinking and spending time together, and as soon as he had his hand up your dress, and simon saw the tears in your eyes, all he could see was red.

you're sitting on the curb outside, sniffling, tears still a little damp on your face as you lick at the cone of ice cream you're holding. you click your heels against the pavement, and you look to the side when you feel a big, warm presence take a seat next to you. his shirt looks damp and sticky, and your eyes dart down to see how his boots smear blood against the ground. you smile a little through your soft tears, reaching over and sliding your arm around his. the tension in his muscles relaxes, and you lean up and kiss his cheek gently.

"did he squirm?" you ask softly as you trace his ungloved hand, running your fingers lightly over the fresh bruises there. "i know you hate it when they cry."

"didn't 'ave time t'cry," he grumbles. he leans over, kissing your forehead through the mask, holding you close. "cut his throat out before he could even think about it. and then i took his hands, luv--" you take a lick of your ice cream before you smile up at him. "didn't deserve 'em since he's had a feel 'f ya."

he lets you paint his nails. you sit on his big thigh, holding his hand up as you smooth black polish over his nail bed. you clean his cuticles and under his fingernails, giving him a nice little manicure before practicing your nail-painting skills. all he does is sit there and grumble as he watches a football game on the telly, not really paying you any mind. when you finish, you smooth lotion over his cracked knuckles and smooth some oil over his nails until they're nice and soft. when you finish, he makes you watch him stuff those fingers into your pretty pussy. he never takes his eyes off the game, but his lips twitch into the lightest smirk as he feels you writhe and squirm beside him, laid back on the couch as you wet his freshly painted nails with cum.

he never lets you cry, not really, because he fucking hates it. if you cry, he tilts your head up towards him, shoving his mask up before dragging his pink tongue up your face and ridding the pretty planes of your cheeks of any evidence. his solution to your sadness, if that doesn't work, is to put his head between your thighs and eat.

he never says no to you. wherever you want to go, he will take you. whatever you want to buy, he will buy it for you. even if it's something you technically can't have, like the vintage purse you see as you window shop with a not for sale tag on it. or the last pair of sparkly barrettes that the woman in front of you snagged first, found at the bottom of your shopping bag the next day. or the job you applied for that you knew you wouldn't get because you bombed the interview--only to receive confirmation in the middle of the night that you got the job, telling simon monday night that your new boss got mugged only a few hours after your interview!

(the bruises on his face are gnarly--and he seems to always avoid you like the plague.)

you break all his supposed boundaries in front of other people, but what they don't understand is that he has boundaries with everyone except for you. when you visit him on base, everyone tenses when you run into the rec room looking for him, slipping into the chair he sits in and taking your place on his lap. but ghost doesn't flinch as he does if others touch him. no, he just places his hand on your back to steady you. when you're out at the pub with his teammates, they stare wide-eyed as you cup his masked cheeks and kiss him all over his face--his eyes, his nose, his cheeks--but all ghost does is pat your ass soothingly and stroke along your hair gently. he stands out in crowds, so imposing and large and broad, and he ignores the stares when a pretty girl bounces into his orbit, taking his hand and pulling him along because simon, i saw this dress, but i need your help getting the zipper up--

there just isn't anyone like you. ghost feels dead, on the inside. he doesn't feel right. he knows something is so wrong inside of him. he wants to eat your glow. it's what he has loved about you since he met you. the unconditional devotion, the big heart you give him, the wet look in your eyes when he does anything for you, even when it includes the bloody stuff. even if he does the wrong thing, even if he kills the wrong man, and you know he is overreacting, you are never mad, never angry. you just kiss his scars and coo in his ear, "it's okay, you didn't know any better, you were just doing it for me, weren't you, baby?"

you give him the validation that he needs to be violent. you tell him it's okay. you aren't afraid of all the gore, of the terrible things he does, of all the things he rights with wrongs. he is quick to anger, and he finds it easy to be judge, jury, and executioner, and all you do is bat your lashes and open your legs and tell him it's okay, simon--it's okay, come here, i miss you.

you suffocate the things that scream in his ears. when it's too loud, you push him to lay down, climb up over him, put your thighs around his head and quiet the noise. you sit your pretty pussy on his mouth, and you ride his face, smoothing a hand over the balaclava that he is too busy to take off. you used to be afraid of being too heavy, of making it hard to breathe for him, but simon is a big boy, and maybe he wants to die, because you taste so sweet, and he always chubs up so easily with his hands digging into your hips and his tongue deep inside of you.

it aches, everything hurts, the world is too loud, but it isn't like this in your flat. it's just right. it's normal. it's safe. simon can be himself, and so can you, and when he is too brooding and terrifying, he looks at you, because if you're still smiling, he isn't too much of anything. and when you think you're talking too fast, when you are second-guessing the dress you want to wear, you look at him, because if he is there, nothing will ever be wrong, and no one can ever hurt you.

simon isn't a good person. you know that. he's quick to the knife. he likes to bite. he commits war crimes, and then he comes home, and no one asks him to explain himself, and no one tells him to stop what he's doing, and when he does it over and over again, all he gets is validation, medals for a job well done, and maybe you're an instigator, too, because you let him fuck you in every position whenever he comes home, a reward for bringing death to whoever was stupid enough to end up at the wrong end of his rifle.

but it's really, really hard to care. as soon as he steps through the door, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, all of your doubts disappear. all you can do is stare at him in all his gear, swallow the drool that threatens to spill, smile--welcome home, teddy bear!

he is a bear. but you've never been on the receiving end of what scares people. if someone were to ask you what to do, you don't think you'd know what to tell them. you wonder what it is you would tell them if they begged for your help.

run away? or play dead?

[golden1u5t]

lunch visits | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: no

ꨄ genre: fluff

ꨄ summary: taking your daughter to visit spencer for lunch.

"Spencer?" You called out for him as you walked into the empty bullpen with your daughter holding your hand, you frowned as you looked around for him. After looking around for a few minutes your eyes landed on the conference room, since the blinds were open you could see the team sitting at the table.

You took a seat at Spencer's desk until he was done reviewing the case, your daughter sat on your lap playing on her tablet. You set the brown paper bag down on the desk, you had brought lunch and you had planned to sit with him for a bit but someone had other plans.

A few minutes later the team emerged from the conference room. Spencer's face twisted in confusion as he saw someone in his chair, his hand reaching for his gun but he quickly relaxed once he recognized your signature butterfly barrett and his daughters laugh. You looked up from watching your daughter’s tablet when you heard quick footsteps getting closer to you.

"Y/N, hi!" He breathed once he reached you. You took your daughters tablet and placed it on the desk and let Spencer take her from your lap, you stood up and quickly pressed a kiss to his lips. Spencer smiled and pressed a kiss to his daughters head. "What are you doing here? I thought you had her photoshoot today."

"We did, it was earlier this morning. I figured we could come have lunch with you," You pushed the brown bag towards him. "But, I see you guys have gotten a new case."

Emily heard your daughters giggles and immediately left her conversation with Rossi for her. She squirmed in Spencer's arms and reached for Emily, screaming "aunty em" until she took her from Spencer's arms, taking her away to be with the rest of the team while you and Spencer had some time together before he was gone.

You smiled as you watched the team with her, remembering how quick the team fell in love with her. They were in love with her before she was even born. You stepped closer to him and rested your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"We still have half an hour before we leave. You guys can stay while we wait, I want to spend some time with her before I leave for however long." He mumbled, into your hair. He sighed as he looked at her playing with the team. "I hope she knows how much I love her."

"Of course she does, Spence. She knows that your job keeps you away sometimes but I make sure to tell her all the time how much you love her." You lean back and cup his face so he could look a you, a small frown on your face. "She knows you love her and she loves you too. We love you."

Spencer nodded and pressed his lips to yours gently, a small tug on his pants leg forcing him to pull away. He looked down to see his daughter tugging at his pants.

"Daddy, can we eat now?"

"Of course, sweet girl."

[agstricker18]

Palaye Royale wallpapers for Fever Dream and The Bastards!

[jolieeason]

July 2024 Wrap-Up

Here is what I read, posted, won, received, and bought in July. Let me know if you have read any of these books and what you thought of them. Books I Read: Books Reviewed: Ladykiller by Katherine Wood—review here Catch and Keep by Erin Hahn—review coming October 15th, 2024 Perfect Fit by Clare Gilmore—review coming October 29th, 2024 Given Our History by Kristyn J. Miller—review coming…

[fire-but-ashes-too]

URL song tag game

thank youuu @yesireadbooks

RULES: spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters.

*dramatically removes the cloth from the board*

AHEM

F- family line by conan gray

I- idontwannabeyouanymore by billie eilish

R-run and hide by sabrina carpenter

E-exile by Taylor swift

-

B-boys will be bugs by cavetown

U-until i found you by stephen sanchez and em beihold

T-tennis court by lorde

-

A-almost is never enough by ariana grande

S- strawberry blond by mitski

H-habits by tove lo

E-easier than lying by halsey

S- seventeen by ryan mccartan and barrett wilbert weed (from heathers the musical) -

T-this december by ricky montgomery

O-o my heart by mother mother

O-overwhelmed by royal and the serpent

oh my god 15 letters that was long.

@holdmyteaplease @spicymochi @guessillcallitart @escapetheinevitable @cabbojage @maewrites13 @macabremoons @briannaswords @tea-and-mercury @ashwithapen @blackcrxwking @lycaens @iannicellis @anonymousfoz @fioreshere

(did i choose specifically people with relatively long urls? yes.)

[sean-shifted-wake]

my most toxic trait is that i truly believe if i was given the opportunity i’d be able to befriend any of the sadgirl singers

[tan1shere]

Motel Whore

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: ahh you guys after awhile its finally hereeee. Sorry for the wait life's been hectic and I'm not doing the best right now :( going through a pretty difficult breakup that's quite honestly tearing me apart but I hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: You and Ellie started a fwb. But you want more. She doesn't see that nor notice how you've been acting. You're just her. Motel Whore. (Yes this is based off of the song Motel Whore by Nessa Barrett!)

Warnings: smut, angst, just sadness. Ellies a bit of an ass. Jealousy, slightly rapey Ellie if ya squint. We won't pay attention to that cuz we all know she's a sweetheart and wouldn't do that. Suggestive language. Like always MDNI

Masterlist

Pt 2!

It was just one night. Turning into two. Turning into a week. Months. Almost a year and you still don't know how you're here. Doing this with your friend Ellie. You always thought it'd be easy, the whole friend's with benefits thing, just a simple fuck then leave. You had no feelings for eachother. Wrong. It was the complete opposite. You started getting more attached as the weeks went by. But you had agreed to her request. 'No feelings involved' and 'this isn't a forever thing' you and Ellie were both single.

And you had agreed that it was a good idea to do this until you could fill that void. On the first night you two had slept together you had told her you were sick of being lonely and having to get off by yourself. You said it mindlessly just ranting to a friend. Until she came up with the idea. You were getting in too deep and you had no idea what to do about it.

You were currently at your friends, Dinas. To be exact. A mutual friend of you and Ellie. She had no idea about your secret life with her, no one did for that matter. It was hush hush. That was another agreement that you both made at the start. But secretly. You wanted the whole world to know. Why? You honestly couldn't even answer that. Because, you had no clue yourself.

"Hello, earth to Y/n. I'm talking to you babe." She blurts out, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Oh yeah, sorry." You mumble. "What's up, you seem off." You shake your head. "Nothing, I'm fine." You give her a reassuring smile. But knowing how Dina was she didn't buy it one bit. She was going to pry, but knowing you'd tell her eventually she let's it go.

"Right well, I asked if you wanted to go out for dinner on Saturday." You look straight at her. Fuck, you were suppose to be meeting Ellie. You always did on a Saturday. Or whenever one of you needed a good fuck. "Uhmm, can we make it Friday?" You try to negotiate. She furrows her brows. "I'm going out with Jesse on Friday, he has a date planned." You flop on the bed. "You guys are so cute." She laughs at the pout on your lips. "You'll find it. Trust me. It may even be close you never know." You scoff. "Doubt it." She then thinks for a moment. "Sunday could work?" You smile at her. "Sounds like a plan."

It was now Saturday you were just driving to the motel of this time. Ellie would always text you the address of some crappy motel. It was never the same one, but if it was it would've been months since you went. Where you lived there was a shit ton of em around. So you rarely ever had to visit them twice. You get out of your car and go up to the number she texted you. "Room 147." You speak, going to knock on it, guessing she's already there.

She opens it welcoming you in. You follow, immediately being kissed by her, she was desperate, and honestly so were you. You always can't wait to see her on your planned days, even when they aren't you can't wait to be by her. "God I missed you." You let out a giggle. "It was only 2 days ago since we last did this Ellie." You smile at her as she takes her hoodie off. "Yeah. 2 days too long." She continues to kiss you. Making you let out a soft sigh into her mouth. "I want to ruin you angel." She'd always call you that during these moments.

You were quite different from most of your friends, you would dress with whites, baby pinks, golds, just any baby color really. You weren't super girly and childish but you had this aura about you that was ethereal. Honestly angelic. Ellie fed on that. She was the complete opposite. She loved fucking you senseless, ripping you apart so to speak. She adored how soft you were. Although you weren't completely innocent. This was the most you've done with any body. You always would do stuff to yourself. But what Ellie didn't know. Was she was your first.

"Ruin me Els.. please." You needed it. You craved it. And she loved that. She loved having you completely under her control. She moves her incredibly soft lips against your neck, putting your hands in her hair gently tugging at her locks, making her groan against your skin. She leads you to the bed getting ontop of you, starting to move down your now naked body. You were panting, it was getting hotter in the room. Both of your bodies radiating heat, making both of you going mental for one another. "Gunna dick you down sweetheart." And she did, just that.

It was now after and like always she was getting dressed immediately. You were always left sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself. "I've been meeting up with some other girls that I've met recently for a quick fuck and I'm meeting one of them right now." She states as she puts her jeans back on. You felt something brew in your stomach. Was it jealousy, disgust? "Oh, I see, well have fun." She grabs her keys. "If you can't be bothered going home, I booked this room out for the night so you can just stay here if you'd like." You look at the bed sheets contemplating your whole life right now. "Right." She then leaves not uttering another word.

Room 147.

Just for the night.

Said I was heaven.

That's without saying goodbye.

It was now a Wednesday. You had been in your apartment just tidying up a bit you could not stop the thought of Ellie. It was intoxicating. And you couldn't quite tell if that was a bad or good thing. You tried to take your mind off of it, but this was all slowly getting to you. You knew what you signed up for. But at the same time it's like she's doing it on purpose. You needed your brain to just shut up for a quick second. Then you got a stupid. Stupid idea. Thinking itd help.

You shook your head. It shouldn't hurt the way it does. You're not even dating her. But oh how it did. The image of her tattooed hand rubbing up some other girls thigh. It made you want to physically puke. But you needed to stop that feeling. You were both single. You had no rule over her. Which meant neither did she. Maybe you should go out more find someone else. You just shake your head again, waiting to see how later pans out.

Later came round slow. You'd been feeling off all day. You don't know why this would make you feel better because honestly you always felt like shit afterwards. You felt used. Even if you wanted this it just felt worthless, were you wasting your time? Should you just call it quits before it's too late. What if it is too late. You were already at the said motel, sitting on the bed waiting. She then comes through the door, looking like she's in a rush. You furrow your brows at her. "Sorry stayed a bit longer." You just nod. Knowing it was one of the girls she's been doing it with alongside you. "You alright love?" She asks as she takes off her jeans. It felt wrong. This all felt so wrong.

You lie. "Yeah I'm good. Just really bored Els. Needed you." What are you doing. Why hurt yourself like this. She smirks, getting on the bed with you. "Yeah baby? How badly hm." She leans closer to your face inches away. Leaning down to kiss you, you relish in it. She begins taking your clothes off, leaving you in your specifically picked out lingerie. It was red, with lace, and silk. You'd hope that maybe this will get her to notice you as something more. See you in something as special. But oh boy were you. Wrong. Making you feel even more stupid as she takes it off, no comment, no nothing. You felt cold. And not because of the fact you were naked. You felt icy, inside and out. You felt that pukey feeling again.

And just like everytime you two fuck, she was up and about to leave again. "So uhm where are you going?" You ask, knowing the answer but still asking regardless. "One of the other girls." You nod. "Do any of them know about me?" She looks up at you, your figure still on the bed. "No. No one knows about this. And that's what we agreed on right?" You nod, looking at her. "Have fun." Your response was cold. Cold like your body.

Am I just a secret.

You love to hide.

Turn off your location when, you come over late at night.

You were currently out with Dina, doing your usual girly shopping, trying on all sorts of clothes and shoes. "Hey what do you think of these pumps?" She asks. You nod. "Suit you." You say bluntly. You don't particularly like the mood you've acquired over the last few months, but you had yourself to blame for that one. "Ok what is up your ass girl. And you are telling me this time." You sigh. "Nothing Dee I'm just not in a good place right now." You softens her look. "Please just talk to me. I'm worried about you babe." You hated that, you never ever wanted to worry. Or upset anyone, at all. "Promise to talk to you in future." You give her a smile. "You better." She winks at you.

"Right anyways, positive vibes. I saw this cute skirt that was definitely you. Wanna go try it on?" You nod smiling genuinely this time. You continued to do this, going around the stores when you got a text.

You absolutely hated yourself for getting into it. You should've stopped sooner but you just can't. And you still don't know why. You couldn't keep treating yourself like this it's time this ends.

You arrive at the motel that she mentioned. Knocking on the door, quickly getting tugged in. She's immediately kissing you, your lips, your neck. She slides her thumb over your bottom lip. You let out a breath. "Ellie-"

"Shhh. I need to fuck the shit out of you angel. Need it." You just nod, giving consent but not fully in the mood for this. You're so stupid. What is wrong with you, you're so blinded. She takes your clothes off, getting you to lay on the bed, but she thinks for a moment. "Uh uh, ass up." You look right at her. "Bu-" She flips you over, going to grope your ass, your face hiding in the pillow. She attached her strap, without any thought pushing into you rough. And hard. You let out a slight gasp.

"Fuck. I needed this." She mumbles, watching as it goes in and out of you. "Using you as I please." And for the first time in all of this mess, you felt tears, hot well needed tears. You're so thankful she couldn't see your face. But it truly hurt. Usually those words wouldn't get to you. But it's how you've been feeling. Used. Abused. In a mental way. It was hurting. Every little bit of it hurt. This feeling wasn't at all good, you just wanted it to be over. So. You faked your orgasm. And like always it ended with her leaving and not uttering a word. You were still faced down in the pillows pretending you were sleeping. Although you don't think it made much difference. You just couldn't look at her. Not with your makeup stained face. From the tears.

Check in check out.

One night stay, you're out the door.

You treat me, like a motel whore.

[ddejavvu]

Plain Old Man - Jim Hopper x Reader

Summary: Jim can't figure out why you love him. After all, isn't he just a plain old man?

Contents/Warnings: hop's self-conscious :(, consensual + legal age gap, fem!reader

requested: hopper x younger really feminine reader. he think she’s the cutest thing ever and that she’s too good for him so he’s kind of upset, but she figures it out and sits on his lap and kissing all over his body </333 // slightly deviated from, but i hope you still enjoy it!

WC: 1.47K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You love Fridays, because when Jim swings by the pizza place for your dinner, he stops into the boutique next door, and always brings you something. Last week it was a pair of dangly earrings, shimmery and green in the shapes of fairy wings. The week before that it was a silver necklace with a pearl charm, to match a set of earrings he'd gotten before that.

You're buzzing with excitement as you hear his car pull up outside, and you bypass the hand he's balancing the pizza on to wrap your arms around his waist. They interlock behind him and you squeeze, wishing you could latch yourself onto him forever and hang off of him like a sloth.

"Hop!"

"Hey, sweetheart." You feel a kiss placed on the crown of your head, his mustache prickling the skin there, "Let's get inside, okay? Pizza's gonna get cold."

Your nose is, too, so you let him nudge you back inside before it starts to ache.

"I baked us muffins," You inform him, taking the box from his hands and watching him toe off his muddy work shoes by the door, "They're blueberry, but I added that topping over them that you liked last time on the banana ones. It's a little sticky, and kinda clumpy, but it tastes the same!"

He nods through your ramble, eyes lighting up at not only the prospect of muffins but of the special crumble you lay over top. He ushers you into the kitchen, but when you reach for the lid of the pizza box he sets a hand on your waist.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he pats the breast pocket of his jacket, and you visibly brighten.

"Oh! Oh," You gush, reaching eagerly for the bag that he hands you, crinkly plastic and purple-tinted, "Thank you, honey."

Your nails pry at the tissue paper that's wrapping whatever present you've gotten, and when you rip the tape away it reveals two barrettes, one pink and one blue. they're beaded, shimmery under the light, and they'll look adorable tucked into your hair.

"Hop," You gush, surging forwards to face-plant into his chest, "I love them! I can use them to twist my hair back like I've been doing lately."

"I know," He nods, leaning forwards to bump his nose into your own, his eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile, "That's why I bought them. I know the pins haven't been holding it."

You'd stolen two worn-out, dented bobby pins from Jim's nightstand, that you're fairly certain he'd used to pick locks with. It concerned you, but he hasn't asked for them back, so you're sure his lock-picking days are behind him.

"Put 'em in!" You urge him, unclipping the barrettes from the card they're on and dumping them into his large, rough hand, "You know how to do it, right?"

"I know how to pull your hair back," He scoffs, sticking one clip between his teeth so that his words muffle as he uses his hands to twist a chunk of your hair away from your face. He pulls it back and secures it with the clip, a snap letting you know it won't fall out.

"Perfect," He praises you (though you think it might be aimed at himself), and pops a kiss to the metal clip.

Your smile is infectious as he uses the other clip on the opposite side of your head, thick fingers twisting your delicate hair carefully. When it's pinned he kisses that side, too, and backs away to look at you head-on.

He smiles, but it's strange. It doesn't fade, per se, but the look in his eyes shifts, and your gut churns with nerves when they seem to be sad.

"Hop?" You tilt your head, watching him try and fail to focus on you instead of whatever's happening in his head, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He nods, pressing a mediocre kiss to your cheek as he rushes for the pizza box behind you, "Yeah, sweetheart. You look real pretty. Let's eat, okay?"

He plates his pizza in silence, so you do too. But it's strange, because he always complains about the cheese not being gooey when he pulls slices apart, and there's not a peep out of him today. Just a downcast glance that tracks his feet all the way to the couch. He typically spreads out, eager to relax after a day of work, but he sits proper, plate on his lap and eyes on the tv.

You reach down to flick it on when you pass, and you sit closer to his side than you normally would. You feel his thigh tense up against your own, and you frown, glancing over at him.

"Jim," You croon, setting your hand cautiously against his thigh, "Are you okay? The truth this time, please."

"Yeah, honey, I.. I don't know." He shakes his head slightly, blinking rapidly and sighing, "It's fine, really. I like your clips, sweetheart, they look good."

He goes to take another bite of pizza, but you pull it out of his hands just before he can. It means that his teeth clack together instead of meeting the bread, and he looks bewilderedly at you, hand still outstretched.

"Hey," He frowns, "That's my pizza."

"I know it's your pizza," You plop it back onto the plate, setting it on the coffee table and taking its place in his lap, "It'll still be your pizza when you tell me what's bothering you."

He sighs again, and this time you feel it where your hands are braced on his belly. You smooth your hands over it, tracing your thumbs from the dip of his navel out to his sides.

"Tell me, Jim," You plead, "I'm worried about you."

He looks at you for a moment, head-on, eye to eye and face to face, and breaks. He murmurs a gruff 'fuck,' under his breath, head drooping down so that his chin meets his chest.

"Jim," You whine, tucking your fingers under his chin and lifting it so that he can't avoid your eyes, "Just tell me, honey. I need to know."

"You are.." He pauses, cupping your cheek and smiling sadly at you, "Gorgeous. You know that?"

"You tell me all the time," You promise him, shimmying your hips slightly to press your tummy further into his, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I think you're too gorgeous for me. And sweet, and nice, and perfect. I'm a plain old man," He gestures to himself, his beige uniform and scruffy stubble, "That's it."

"You're not a plain old man," You chide him, pinching at the pudge of his belly, "You're the man I love. You know that, don't you? That I love you."

"I'd like to think so," His smile stays sad, "I just can't think of a reason you would."

"Well because- because you're.. you! Jim," Your brows furrow and you lean closer, nose-to-nose, "I love you because of who you are. Not because of any one specific reason, the reason is just you. I love you, Jim Hopper."

His hand cups the back of your neck and pushes you forwards. It's not a kiss, but your lips meet, as do your foreheads as your noses smush together.

"You're too good to me," He murmurs, his voice slightly raspy.

"No," You protest, pecking his lower lip in a sweet smooch, "I could never be too good to you. 'Cause you deserve the best."

"You are cheesy today," He chuckles, but you know it's not an insult as much as it is an observation, "Did those muffins have extra sugar in them? Something's got you all sweet."

"It's you," You grin, knocking your nose into his once more and digging your hands into the soft chub of his belly, "I'm glad you're home. I missed you all day, I wanted to call you a bunch but I didn't wanna bother you."

"You wouldn't bother me," He promises, smoothing a hand down your back, "But it's probably not good to hold up the line at the police station."

"Yeah," You hum sadly, and lean down to tuck your face over his shoulder in a much-needed hug, "It's better when El's here. She keeps me company."

"Speaking of," He glances at the clock, patting your back gently, "We need to go get her soon. Max's mom said she can't stay another night, she's got chores to do."

"Finish your pizza," You clamber off of his lap and rush for your own plate, "Because before she comes back, you're going to make me happy scream."

"Oh, yeah?" He laughs as you settle yourself back against him on the couch, attention finally turned to the television, "We should brush our teeth first, then. I'm not kissing pizza breath."

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