#give us a cr focus

[ittybittyremy]

[aq2003]

i was the target demographic of "fan who would hate this season the most". my critrole tastes were specifically aligned and designed in a lab to hate nearly every single creative decision and change that was made

[anemoiashifts]

why you should get off social media if you want to shift.

before you scroll away, i want to challenge all of you to read all of this. this is one of my longest blog posts ive ever made with over 1,000 words. if you can or can’t make it through the whole post, please let me know how far you’ve gotten in the comments below. you’ll get a surprise at the end 🥳 !

social media isn’t an inherently bad thing. however, outside & inside of the shifting community social media (specially tiktok) has been shown to effect our attention span. this shows in my comment sections on my longer tumblr posts that i also share on tiktok, such as this one, when people say things like “im not reading all of that” or “can someone summarize” also “what method should i use” and “why am i not shifting”.

let’s start with the basics of shifting. shifting attempts need some kind of focus; an affirmation, a visualization, some sort of task like counting. if you’re someone who struggles to focus, you will struggle to learn how to meditate or any hobby or task you’re tying to accomplish. all shifting methods are is a meditation. while no, you don’t need a method, I would make the argument learning how to meditate & focus your attention to what you are trying to manifest is an important part of shifting. if social media creates an instant dopamine reward without little effort, the appeal of shifting seems less. this is why i think a lot of people actually like thinking about shifting & creating content for it rather then doing it — because trying to shift requires some level of work without instant reward even if it’s as simple as laying down & setting intention.

if you try to shift & you wake up in your cr still, that isn’t as exciting when comparing it to the idea of shifting. rather, if you post an edit or a video about your dr you will receive a dopamine hit through video interaction (comments, likes, how social media platforms are set up in general). even maladaptive daydreaming can fall into this category to some. the interest in attempting to shift dies because we feel like we aren’t gaining anything from it when that’s not true. when laying down & attempting to shift, we are meditating & training the brain to focus on what we desire most: we’re correcting our attention span.

social media destroys the ability to focus & what we focus on & give our attention to allows room for that desire to grow, to become reality. if we’re always so overwhelmed with information & have so much to stress about, it’s important to recognize what we consume & how it effects our mood & mental health & how it can sometimes delay our manifestations. im not saying you have to be positive all the time, but we’re exposed to so much that it’s important to check in with yourself every once in a while. this can be where shifting content comes into play vs non shifting content. think demotivation, you don’t look for it, it just appears. & how many times have you opened tiktok to look something up to only be distracted by a completely unrelated video that automatically started playing ?

what i mean is people are telling you what shifting is, what works for them (which you could register subconsciously & believe that’s a step by step guide), rather then self discovery. people are telling you what shifting is, how to do it, what to think, what to script, what method you need to do, even if they say “this may not apply to everyone” because of how it’s being presented & spoken about. the said popularity of a method or definition may also come into play & feeling like something has to be right or work because other people align with it. its like math class, the teacher shows you one way to solve a problem then says “your allowed to use your own methods” & shows you one example of it then goes back to using the original method in class that you don’t understand.

another reason is opinions. when being shown so many people speaking on shifting & their thoughts it can be overwhelming. it’s a great thing so many people are willing to talk about their experiences in their desired reality or want to share their personal breakthroughs & opinions on what shifting is, it can be confusing. while everything i just listed is well intended, leaning about shifting through places like tiktok & not venturing out & doing your own research — or just searching methods online & trying it yourself while going in blind — it takes away self discovery.

so, how do we learn about shifting ?

when i say get off of social media, i don’t exactly mean all social media. yes, all of these things happen across the internet but the difference with tiktok is that the fyp isn’t so prominent. this of course also applies to other feeds that are generated, but a lot of the shifting community is ok tiktok so im using the most known example. it’s important to search & decide what information you consume & seek out rather then being told something without stopping to think for yourself. you want the chance to be able to create your own thoughts. your own unique thoughts you have about things make them personal & your own beliefs become stronger when you realize things on your own. it’s more satisfying that way.

places like reddit & searching for questions you specifically have so you don’t have ten more questions shoved in your that you didn’t have before that cause you added worry or unnecessary fear is helpful to keep in mind.

there is room for grey area. not everything needs to be black & white. there should be no consciousness vs multiverse theories because two things can both be true at once. Ike thing doesn’t have to be against something, you don’t have time pick a side. it’s all theory & hypothetical. it’s okay that we 100% don’t know (& will probably never know) what shifting truly is. not everything needs to be discovered to preform it “correctly”. you don’t need to be a master at painting to paint, you don’t need to know how paint brushes are crafted or how canvas is stretched to preform, anyone can sit & learn as they create their first & second & tenth piece. even people who have painted & sold their artwork for millions, don’t know the great’s techniques. they know pieces of them & take what works & discards what doesn’t serve them.

this post isnt to negate any of the good social media has done or sound like my mom & preaching about how social media destroys your brain…but i think we should be mindful of what we consume & how it makes us feel & if we’re speaking for ourselves or parroting others words. there are so many great people & advice out there & im not trying to take away from that. i just think taking a moment to stop & digest what we’re seeing is healthy. this blog post has been a long time coming but i know a lot of people wouldn’t want to hear it. i can promise you, you are more addicted then you think — myself included. i just don’t wake you guys to look back in 10 years & have spent more then half of that looking at a screen when there’s so much life to be lived. i don’t want social media to take away from what we are all here for which when we come down to it is living. shifting is literally wanting to experience life & i can’t help but find it ironic that this is the opposite of everything we wish to accomplish through this practice.

please take care of yourselves. much love.

surprise :) congrats you made it ! here’s your digital slice of cake ! 🍰

[pinkchrissysposts]

||☆•2 week affirmation challenge for beginners•☆||~(request)

<Hey guy it's been quite while,I shifted for a whole month(which will be 2 days here in my CR) in Koizora DR,for a break from my CR,anyways from the result from today's votes,>

Firstly something we all struggle as beginner to manifest is,obsession,desperation,doubts, procrastation and methods. But guys don't worry it's just a normal phase everyone go through after knowing that we can HAVE ANYTHING we want,logical or illogical. But here me out you don't have to force yourself to get completely rid of those negative,because they are always gonna come up,what YOU have to do is be in control of those thoughts,which mean don't let those thoughts guide you to get in a state of lack. You are more power then that so,flip that shit and focus on the new thought or new story.

I get as someone new to law you will be confuse on what to do,or what to manifest,but the most common is thinking HOW. How do I start,"how do I manifest it into my life?","how is it even possible,will it work for me?". It definitely will you've been manifesting your whole life,but since you are new that's why you're finding it hard to manifest. But let me tell you it's simple,if you are not able to embody state,use SATS,being etc.

So here is the routine you have to follow for the next 2 weeks.

🥗. Create a Pinterest vision board look at it,everytime you feel like you need external validation,or motivation.

🥗. Start your day with affirmations,and use this subliminal and loop it as you affirm. Use the sub atleast 1 hour or more while doing your morning routine and robotically affirming.

🥗. Now robotically affirm as you go on with your day. You can talk with others don't have to shut the world out as Sammy said. Or you can do 30 minutes affirmation 1 hour rest session.

🥗. On free time use this morphic field and continue affirming for atleat 30 minutes headphones are not needed foe morphic field so no need to use one since Sapien recommended himself. Also do atleast a proper 1-2 hour saturation session,you can also do other activities.

🥗. OK you have come so far don't give up take some breaks in between.

🥗. At night use these two subs by SLADE,and fall asleep as you affirm. You can loop is overnight too but it's upto you how long you want to use it.

🍋‍🟩That's it so let's see in brief.

★. Affirm as you wake up with the subliminal above.

★. Affirm for 30 minutes and take 1 hour rest or do robotic affirming the whole day.

★. On your free time use morphic field and do a proper saturation session of 1-2 hour.

★. As you fall asleep use two subs and loop it as you affirm to sleep.

Also you don't have to worry about all the emotions you feel,you wanna cry then cry,feeling guilty it's fine,feeling desperate it's fine. Let the emotions pass,people have affirmed while crying,to the point they throw up(me💀) with desperatation,you can obsess over your desires it'snot a big crime. But the biggest crime is not persisting and checking 3D also procrastinating. Also don't get discourage if 3d shows you something you don't like affirm against it because you are more powerfull then those thoughts.

[mo-mode]

Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.

(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)

(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.

What if there were oil diffusers?

So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.

Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)

Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.

Onto Thursday.

Consider: A watch.

What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?

Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.

It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.

(It’s so easy. I promise.)

While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)

And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.

“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”

That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!

Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.

It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!

The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???

There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.

Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.

It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.

But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING

Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.

Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please

[kanmom51]

Spot the differences (again)

*This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while now waiting for me to finalize it. Much water has passed under the bridge since, but I still think it is relevant, maybe even more so now that 'Are you sure?' is about to land and this is the type of rhetoric we will be hearing a lot.

This post is a public service for all those that love to nullify Jikook interactions. Those that ot7-fy them. "JM is such a sweetheart, he loves all his members" or "JM is always so happy to see the other members, remember when..."

So yeah, I actually do remember when. And that is why I decided to bring them here for you to judge.

Let's put these two under a magnifying glass side by side why don't we?

RM joining JM in his birthday live.

JK joining JM in his Docu live

Thanks to cr./@jimimn for their amazing gifs, some of which I will be using here.

Start, why don't you, with JM's initial reaction.

JM literally lights up when he notices JK. He stops the video and calls out his name.

He's not happy.

He is overjoyed.

His face literally lights up.

His whole body is reacting.

He is down right giddy.

That whole body movement when he calls out to Jaykay again. His shoulders literally dancing - that is what I call a little JM happy dance, exclusively for JK.

When RM walks in JM is happy he's there. Happy. Not giddy.

And may I remind you that this is JM's birthday live. So RM is popping in to wish JM happy birthday while he's on live. And as expected JM is happy to see him.

Happy and laughing for a sec and then manages, with ease, to have a full on conversation with RM, setting up a chair for him by his side. Expecting RM to join his live.

Yes, JM set up a seat for RM to sit by his side, all while he shooed JK away telling him to take the chair with him.

Lmao.

JM's first question to JK: "why did you lose so much weight?"

All while not being able to keep his hands to himself and going in for his chestie besties.

From the second JK walked in JM could not keep his eyes off him. It's like we were non existent, and he knew that, he knows that is what happens when JK is around during a live, hence him not having one with JK even though he has been asked to do one by JK multiple times.

And that is exactly the reason why JM told him "you can go now".

JM needed to stay in focus. Watching the documentary and focusing on that and us, the audience watching him watch it.

This isn't a person he didn't want to have around.

This is a person that while around would render JM unable to focus on the documentary and us.

So best he not be there.

Even while watching the documentary when JK wasn't there anymore, even then, when the part with JK recording Letter came up, JM wasn't with us.

We always talk about the JM effect, but when it comes to JM and JK, there is definitley a JK effect to be talked about as well.

So, RM comes in to see JM, and JM gives him a stool to sit on and join him. RM wants to take a pic of JM, and JM tells him to "take a pic of this", which is an AI generated elf JM pic he had on screen and that he was showing us himself just a second earlier as RM just came in.

With RM JM is clearly happy that he joined him. They talk about RM's hair, about having to get a drink together, about JM doing his dance clips. It's a short visit, less than 2 minutes long, and yet they manage to actually form full sentences and have a somewhat meaningful conversation.

And then you have JK's visit, more or less a minute long and all you get is "you've lost too much weight my chestie besties are disappearing" (the second half of the sentence is what he wanted to say, didn't say it out loud but his actions most definitely told us everything, lmao), and "get out of here before I jump your bones", more or less.

Nah, but seriously. They couldn't even have a back and forth conversation. JM shy and unable to talk as JK approached, leaning back for JK to come closer to his mic and JK (for reasons unknown to myself) leaning further down (JK, that's not where the mic is at). JK dumb-founded by JM's weight loss comment and chest fondling, so instead, recovering as quickly as he could, he addresses us. And then JM is "you can go"... going in for a hug and JK is all "I'm sorry".

Now what is he sorry about exactly? Interrupting JM's live? Causing JM to be a total mess (which he totally was)? Or, being a total mess himself (which again, he was as well)?

As JK is leaving he tells JM to have fun with army watching the documentary, and JM again: "hurry up and go" physically helping him to leave.

I have never seen someone who was that excited to see another when they showed up (JM when JK appears) try to get rid of said other as fast and as hard as JM did with JK.

🤣🤣

And yes, JK was saying I love you to army (well, that's what we were supposed to understand), but this was JM as JK was leaving.

Why you so giddy giggly JM?

Is it because you were overjoyed by JK showing up? Was it because you know you malfunctioned? Or was it just because it was JK? Cause that is the effect he has on you.

You know what it brings me back to? The BTB of JM's SMF pt. 2 rehearsals and JK visiting him.

Not only how heavily edited it was but also the fact, and I did mention this in my post at the time, that we didn't get to see them as JK showed up. Unlike other BTBs with other members showing up for JM and us being 'allowed' to see his initial reaction and their greetings, we were robbed of that when it came to JK's visit. I asked why in back then. Rhetorical question. I knew the answer. We basically saw it right here in this live.

And this was RM leaving.

JM happy to see him, smiling as he was leaving, and back to business no fuss no muss, and definitley no lingering smile that he simply could not wipe off his face.

Look, you don't need a Master's degree in psychology or in the science of facial and body expression to see the difference between the two. And JM, well he's well aware of it. He knows that JK has a special effect on him. He knows that with JK around he can get lost in him. And when you have a live camera rolling at the same time, well that is something that he knows could be detrimental to his health, lol. It's about schedules not aligning for them to have a live together. It's about JM knowing that they cannot handle it (it's not just JM, we saw that very well with JK's deer caught in the headlights behavior in that live - man thought he could handle it and I think he found out that simply ain't the case).

So basically, to sum it all up, here is JM in each situation:

JM to RM:

"Hey mate, how you doing? Come, come, sit right next to me, join me in my live. How are things with you? New hair? We need to get together catch up over drinks? Oh, if you're taking a pic, take this one...here look at my screen. Ok, call me to make a date for drinks. See you..."

Not the exact dialogue, but pretty close I'd say, lol.

JM to JK:

"What are you doing here?" Wait. Chestie besties, gotta ask them how they are doing...Shit. Brain malfunction. "Get out of here before I jump your bones. And take that chair with you so there isn't even the slightest chance you sit here next to me, cause there is no way I will manage to continue this live if you stay".

Yep, those words did not pass his lips (barely any did), but his actions spoke volume.

Bottom line brings me right back to the start of my post.

You can't ot7-fy how JM and JK are with each other. You just can't. No matter how hard you try, the way they are with each other is unlike how they are with any other member, which they both love dearly, there is no question about that. Just not the same way that they love each other.

Period.

There is a reason why while dropping promos for "Are you sure?" their "chemistry" is mentioned. There is a reason why people that have seen only the trailer and/or their announcement have raised an eyebrow, the words boyfriends and honeymoon being mentioned (not by Jikookers btw). Because they, those two, their interactions are charged, they are different than with the others. We see it when the others are around as buffers, but we see it so much more when it's just the two of them.

I know that there are those that are waiting for something big to happen in the show, a big revealing scene or what not. I think they are going to be disappointed.

On the other hand there are those that think it's going to be so watered down that what we will be getting is two bros on a trip. I must say that I think they are wrong as well.

Jikook are Jikook. They can't hide what they are to each other. You don't need to see a loving couple making out to know that they are a loving couple. There are so many other tells. And those are things that you can't hide or water down. They are engrained in those two's interactions, facial expressions, tone of voice, and physical interactions or lack thereof as well. All of those can't be watered down or edited out completely. And they know it. Which is why, again, the word "chemistry" was used - they know they can't hide it so they try to give it a name, maybe disguise it a little. All while knowing we can't be fooled. Not really.

So yeah, I keep needing to tell myself this is actually happening. Because this is going to be huge. And it's going to be so much fun and chaotic and happy and just WOW!!

Three weeks to go!!!

And D-1 to Muse!!!

This is going to be friggin' awesome !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[su8arandspite]

Show Me

Summary: When Steve and Robin bail on you, you’re left alone with Eddie for the first time and you want him to teach you how to play the guitar. But you find it hard to focus. Or, alternatively, the one in which you find out why Eddie Munson keeps handcuffs in his bedroom and what those stains on his mattress really are.

eddie munson x afab!reader, steve harrington x afab!reader (implied)

Warnings and content: 18+ mdni, smut, mentions of the ud, canon-compliant brief gore, eddie lives!post st4, alcohol and drug use, use of restraints, squirting, limited physical descriptions of reader (though I think I inferred long hair), no use of y/n, reader loves journey bc me too

A/N: i was absolutely drunk when i wrote this ngl. it’s shameless filth, and i am not sorry. this is my first good faith effort to write in second person, so y/n is used only sparingly. inspired by the fun, spicy lil details in eddie’s room. this was originally a steve x reader x eddie threesome piece but it was simply too long, so who knows, part 2??

Word count: 9.6k

divider cr: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was a Saturday night tradition. After a particularly mind-numbing shift at Family Video, you, Steve, and Robin were always in desperate need of some fun. Really, it was a miracle that Keith even let the three of you work the same shift, given the especially sloppy work you produced when presented with the distractions of your best friends. As much as you loathed Keith, you supposed you might as well use his apparent –albeit inappropriate– fondness for you to your advantage. After the first time Eddie called the store during your combined shifts, the routine formed easily: the second that the last customer left and the door was locked, the three of you piled into Steve’s BMW to meet Eddie at his trailer for a well-deserved joint or some shots of tequila, maybe a bit of both if the day was particularly unbearable.

Tonight, though, your friends seemed to have other ideas. It was Robin who first broke the routine. She burst into the store with a guilty grin and a rushed explanation about the maybe-date she had with Vicki. And, okay, you could admit that you were happy for her. The excited rush in her voice and dusting of pink in her cheeks made it hard to be too mad at Robin. Beaming, she nudged you in the arm:

“Besides, who wouldn’t want a night alone with Eddie and this dingus?”

You turned to glance at Steve, hiding the flush this brought to your cheeks. A sinking feeling settled deep within your belly as you caught sight of the giggly girl leaning her torso against the checkout counter. She batted her eyelashes at Steve, twirling her hair around her finger. You hadn’t needed to hear them to know that Steve was asking her out on another date that you were uncertain he even actually wanted to go on. For someone who claimed to hate it, Steve sure did seem to have quite a bit of mindless sex. Not that you wanted to think about Steve’s sex life, or him with his shirt off or– No. You pushed away the image before it could fully form in your mind.

“Whatever,” Turning back to Robin, you rolled your eyes. “Now, are you gonna help me restock the shelves, or should we risk leaving it for Steve?”

Chuckling, she nodded and followed you to the stockroom to grab the carts filled with the new arrivals. Both of you took one and wheeled it off to different parts of the store. You hummed to yourself as you lugged the heavy container towards the next genre. It was in the middle of your whispered rendition of “Lights” that Steve finally made his way over to help you.

He shot you a grin as he gripped the cart, taking it from you. You eyed him skeptically, raising an eyebrow:

“Someone looks happy,” you teased. “Did my tip to recommend Pretty in Pink get you a date again?”

Steve’s warm laughter filled the store over the radio playing through the loudspeakers. “That obvious, huh?”

You shrugged. Casually, you tell him: “There’s this little quirk to your lips that gives you away.”

Steve stared at you for a brief moment, surprised, but averted his gaze before you turned your torso back to him and grabbed another VHS. Shifting his weight, Steve rubbed his hand over his chin.

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Steve, unable to avoid a grin at the nickname. He gave you The Karate Kid Part II to put in the new release section. “I promise I’ll still drive you to Munson’s, okay?”

“Wait,” You paused, whirring back to gape at him. “What do you mean, ‘drive’ me? Steve, please tell me you’re not bailing, too!”

Steve broke out into a sheepish grin. You tossed your hands up in exasperation. While you busied herself with visibly pouting, you missed the knowing smirk that Steve gave in response.

You blinked at him. Robin, you understood; she’d been dancing around taking this plunge with Vicki for ages, but Steve…? Well, you didn’t know why that bothered you, but you suddenly found yourself filled with jealousy towards the stranger with her forced Valley Girl accent and ugly purple top. Unwilling to admit that, you instead focused on the other idea stirring your nerves. Robin wasn’t coming to smoke that night, nor was Steve. That just left you... And Eddie. It would be the first Saturday Smoke Nights without all four of you there. 

The thought made your tummy flip. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie– in fact, he had quickly become one of your closest friends. Still, something about the idea of spending time truly alone with him for the first time since, well, since the Upside Down, sent your heart aflutter. 

You thought about canceling the whole thing until everyone was free. Except, when you floated the idea to him, Steve wasn’t having any of it. 

“Maybe I should just call it a night, then,” you shrugged.

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “I’m driving you.”

Steve shot an odd look your way as he pushed the cart of tapes to be reshelved towards the Action section. You followed closely behind him, holding two tapes at a time and replacing them on the shelves.

That was how you found yourself sitting on Eddie’s bed while he deliberated over the two movies you had swiped from Family Video to watch that night— Airplane! or Teen Wolf. Not that you could care less; it was only a matter of time before you and Eddie weren’t sober enough to really care.

After a moment, Eddie looked up from the VHS cases with a brow quirked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “How do you expect me to choose between two such riveting pieces of cinema?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, we had to pick something that Keith wouldn’t notice went missing.” 

Eddie shrugged. “Werewolves it is, then.”

While Eddie held up the selected tape and carried it over to the VCR player, you rose to your feet. You adjusted your skirt as you stood, pulling the plaid material a little further down over your thighs. The white tank top that you had put on before work looked more see-through than you remembered it being without the oversized green vest of your employee uniform over it. With that shedded in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, the lacy black bra which you threw on that morning popped against the white.

“Hey, Eds,” you called out. ”You got any popcorn?”

Eddie spared you a glance, a finger suspended in the air over the play button. His breath hitched at the sight of you. He wondered if you knew how good you looked or if you meant to waste it on the renters at work. Or him, for that matter. Swallowing thickly, he told you about the Jiffy Pop he had waiting for you on the stove, and stared after you once your figure disappeared from sight.

When you returned to Eddie’s bedroom, snacks and drinks in hand, he was oddly quiet. You paused for a moment, your eyes scanning his face for signs of what was going on in that head of his. You bent to set the popcorn bowl on the floor by his feet and handed Eddie a beer. The tension in the room was palpable. It pushed you to plop yourself down in the space next to him. You watched the opening credits rolling on Eddie’s shitty TV as you settled into this new position, criss-crossing your legs. 

Your palms slapped against your thighs as you rallied his attention. “Okay,” you said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get wasted.”

Eddie snickered. “Okay, princess,” he cooed. “As you wish.”

A delicious calm washed over your body as your high set in. The beer was shitty and slightly warm from not being in the trailer’s refrigerator long enough, but it was the best you two could scrounge up in Hawkins. It warmed you up and, more to the point, got the job done anyways. By the time you had a couple beers and half a joint in your system, the movie was over, and you felt more comfortable being alone with Eddie. 

Your fingers ghosted over the tops of the cases as you sifted through Eddie’s cassette collection. It took a while for you to find something familiar. You waited until Eddie was in the bathroom to switch the stereo to Journey so that he couldn’t protest the change.

You spun around the room, strumming your fingers in the air against an invisible guitar. It was in the midst of this little solo act that Eddie returned. He leaned against the doorframe so as not to disturb you, a small grin overtaking him. Eddie’s eyes flickered to your hips subconsciously as the movement swished your mini skirt upwards; the sight gave him just enough of a show to stir up tantalizing thoughts about the soft skin of your upper thighs and up until they disappeared under your panties. His impure thoughts brought a dopey smile to his face. It was then that you noticed his presence.

Upon realizing that you had been caught, your cheeks heated. A small squeak passed your lips. You stopped dancing abruptly, hair falling like a curtain over your face. 

“Please,” said Eddie. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

Suddenly shy, you shrugged. “Shit, you scared me! But,” Your lips curled into a demure smile, “I thought you were the rockstar, Eds. Wouldn’t wanna steal your limelight”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing, angel.”

You hummed. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you blurted out unfiltered thoughts:

“You know, your hair’s almost as awesome as Steve Perry’s.”

Not this again. Eddie cocked an eyebrow, “Almost?”

You shrugged, a coy smile playing over your lips. “Just a little less silky.”

Pushing your hair away from your face, you narrowed your eyes at him. You sauntered over to the bed and collapsed yourself down onto it. Your eyes flickered from his hands to his tongue as he pushed it out to wet his lips. Getting comfortable, you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs up further underneath yourself. Your hands rested patiently over your thighs as you tilted your head. 

“Hey, Eddie,” you said. “Will you teach me how to play guitar? I mean, how else am I gonna become a rockstar?”

His lips quirked up at this. “Sure,” Eddie nodded. “Most songs are three simple chords, anyways.” He lifted his hands to strum at an invisible guitar of his own. You couldn’t quite focus on his explanation with his hands moving like that.

 “Okay, teach. I’m all ears,” you looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning forward with your elbows against your thighs and chin resting in your palms.

Eddie marched over to the wall where his guitar hung in its place of honor. He slung the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a stray guitar pick from the desk and placed it between his lips, before taking center stage in the middle of the room.

“Now,” Eddie began. “First, you’ve just gotta learn three simple chords: D, C, and G.”

He positioned his fingers, one at a time, over the strings in the correct position. The tip of his tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. Even as crossfaded as you both were, Eddie wanted to impress you. After all, it wasn’t every day that he had a beautiful girl sitting on his bed, and he planned to milk the moment for all it was worth. So, he did his best to look cool and, if he was lucky, maybe you would ask him to teach you again. Eddie slowed the chord down to illustrate the correct posture. He played each of the three a few times then in succession.

“Then, when you put them all together, eventually, you get a little something like this–” Eddie strummed the iconic guitar solo of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” He thanked God for the liquid courage that allowed him to play Journey for you, like he hadn’t memorized the song just because he knew you were into them. Thank Ozzy for alcohol and weed or whatever it was that kept you from pointing out that Journey wasn’t exactly metal enough for Eddie’s usual taste.

And you meant to pay attention, you really did, but your brain turned into mush at the sight of Eddie truly in his element. You could think of nothing but the quick pace of his fingers. The thick rings he wore just on the cusp of his knuckles demanded attention. You bet they would feel cool against your skin, flushed and chest heaving, while he— pay attention. You swallowed around your cottony throat. White heat snaked up your spine as your mind wandered to thoughts of what else those skilled fingers of his could do. You shifted slightly in your seat. The room suddenly felt stuffy enough to run your mouth dry.

The sound of Eddie’s voice calling your name pulled you from her reverie. “Hmm?” Your eyes drifted slowly up to his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked your eyelashes up at him. WIth a faint smile, you tilted your cheek to rest against your shoulder. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Uh, can you show me that last one again? D, wasn’t it?”

“C, actually,” he corrected. “‘S something on your mind?”

“Oh, uh, I–“

You failed to think of an excuse, but you certainly couldn’t tell him what you were really thinking. Instead, you opened and closed your jaw, unsure.

Eddie let his hands fall to his sides. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “What’s a matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

The burst of warmth this brought to your cheeks gave him confidence. Eddie gently shrugged his guitar from around his shoulders and set it aside. You could only watch, eyes wide, as he strode your way.

He moved to sit beside you with his hands laid flat against the bed to support him, one on each side of you like a lanky cage, and his tall stature leaning over you. Eddie’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. As he leaned forward, the guitar pick which he wore around his neck swung forwards to tap against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

When you didn’t respond, Eddie continued: “You wanna know what I think?”

With Eddie so close, you struggled to think of anything at all. The weed mixed with Eddie’s cologne— since when did he wear that?— and made your head swim even faster. You barely registered the words as they left your lips, “What’s that?”

Eddie sucked his teeth, a low rumble of a chuckle rippling through his chest as he leaned in to drop his lips to your ear. His hair tickled the skin of your neck. Gooseflesh rippled over you as his hot breath met your ear, “I think you’d rather watch”

You swallowed thickly. There was little time to compose yourself, though you tried, as Eddie leaned back against his palms, flattening them to give himself a better view. The expectant way in which he looked at you made you melt like putty under his hot, hungry gaze. Eddie reveled in the way you averted your eyes, embarrassed, and knowing you’d been caught. His big brown eyes gleamed. 

Lamely, you shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I–“

You went to call him an asshole but lost your train of thought entirely. The quip died in your throat as a flash of something shiny in your peripheral vision caught your eye. It was your turn to smile devilishly at him as you realized what it was. 

Eddie frowned at the dip of the bed as you rose to your feet and stepped away from him. His gaze followed your saunter as you tiptoed over a copy of Heavy Metal magazine and a pile of cassette tapes to stop before the wall.

You lifted up the silver object with one finger. Turning to the boy, your lip curled devilishly into a knowing smirk. Eddie knew he should have been embarrassed or something, probably needed to come up with some plausible excuse for why he kept handcuffs in his bedroom. Maybe you would buy it if he said he was trying a hand at being an amateur magician? No, that was lame. He wanted to be a cop? Yeah, right! He certainly couldn’t tell you that he liked to use his hands in bed and, sometimes, he wanted to be the only one doing that. Could he?

“You know,” you lifted your eyes from the cuffs to meet Eddie’s. “My big brother’s a cop.”

The way that you twirled them around in circles stirred up something within Eddie. This, along with the plump pout of your lips, left Eddie suddenly very turned on. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said lamely.

“Well, then, Eddie, baby, you should know that he also taught me a little trick about how to get out of them.” You pulled at each loop of the cuffs until the chain was taut. “Do you want me to show you how?”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare and squirm. The suggestive tone to your voice rendered him speechless. He nodded dumbly. Your lips curved upwards devilishly. Mimicking his tone from earlier, you teased: “Cat got your tongue?

“Put ‘em on for me?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He rose to his feet at your command. Your hands brushed as he took the restraints from the end of your finger. You blinked up at him expectantly as you pushed your wrists together in front of yourself. The cuffs bound your wrists as one with a resounding click. Eddie took a step back to admire his work. You looked so damn pretty with your hands all bound up for him, your wide eyes the icing on the cake.

“Wait,” Eddie shook his head. He gripped your wrists in one hand, stilling them before you had a chance to show him your trick. “Keep them on”

The mere sight of you in his cuffs made Eddie’s cock stir within his jeans.

“Perfect,” he muttered. The remark was more to himself than anything. It made you dizzy nonetheless.

Eddie didn’t know where his newfound confidence came from–the weed, maybe, or the shine in your eyes as you looked at him– but it was welcomed either way. Playful banter and a flair for the dramatics were his bread and butter, sure, but this? Flirting with you and unabashedly ogling you in his cuffs was something Eddie never saw happening outside of his perverted fantasies. Whatever pushed him to do it, he was chuffed that he had the courage to say what he did next.

His thumb and forefinger pinched your chin, lifting it upwards to force your gaze upon him. “You didn’t really want me to show you how to play the guitar, did you?” he clicked his tongue. “No, you wanted me to teach you what my fingers can do to you”

Then his thumb pushed at your mouth, tapping against your pillowy lower lip. He applied gentle pressure to it, just enough not to push its way inside. “Is that what you want, angel?” A whine rumbled deep within you. You could only nod dumbly in response. Eddie clicked his tongue, head shaking. “Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you”

“Yes.” That was all the confirmation Eddie needed. He pressed his thumb firmly so that it opened your mouth for him. Your tongue lapped at the intruder, teasingly, as you sucked him in. Eddie all but melted at the sensation and his cock responded similarly, his dirty thoughts racing with desire for that mouth of yours.

He jerked his head towards the bed. “Sit.” You obeyed readily and sat on the end of his mattress, legs dangling off the edge, and spread your knees wide for him. 

Eddie bunched your skirt up with his fists and flipped it upwards on your hips. This gave him an eyeful of skimpy lacy panties that the skirt hardly covered to begin with. Christ. A whine escaped him at the filthy sight. He pushed your thighs as wide apart as he could by the knee. His hands ghosted over your skin from the knee up to the thickest parts of your thigh. He grabbed at the fleshy part of leg just below your ass.

He pushed aside your panties with his thumb to expose your wetness to him. A slow, shaky exhale escaped him as he dragged his finger through the slick and back up to rub sloppy circles against your clit. This made your breath hitch in your throat. Your mouth hung open with the silent whine threading to spill out. 

Eddie’s Cheshire Cat grin only grew as he stretched his long fingers out to hook into the fabric of your underwear, keeping as much contact as he could with your clit, until he managed to yank them down your thighs and around the left ankle. Swiftly, and so smoothly that you didn’t even notice, he tucked the lacy material in the front pocket of his jeans. For later.

“Kiss me,” your voice sounded like a true angel whispering to him. His nickname for you had never felt more apt.

Eddie’s fingers never ceased on your clit as he dipped his head down to press his lips against your cheek. He mumbled a slew of praises and compliments against your skin as he mapped a trail along your jawbone to your neck, pausing to suckle a deep hickey on the jugular and ghost against your clavicle. Only when his name passed your saccharine lips did he give you what you wanted and press his mouth hungrily to yours.

As you melted into his touch, you breathed a happy sigh against him. You kissed every last inch of nerves and desire away into his waiting mouth. Eddie swallowed it readily. His mind buzzed with the hazy static of lust and illicit substances until he could no longer hear Steve Perry’s voice thrumming in the background. He thought maybe his heart was going to take flight. Deep unfiltered want drove Eddie as he added a second and third finger to your clit and increased the pace. He blinked through heavy lids as you twitched involuntarily at the sheer pleasure.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, Eddie was a hopeless fool for you. You were exactly the beautiful, smart, warm breath of air that he needed. His heart ached for you with each brush of your hands as you both reached for a kernel of popcorn from the same bowl during movie nights with your friends. That had been enough for him up until now; Eddie would take as much or as little of you as you wanted to offer him. Even if tonight turned out to be just another one of his elaborate fantasies, he’d die a happy man—he seemed to have more and more vivid images of you in all your sunny glory as of late, the filthy thoughts flooding his mind in the quiet moments when he was truly alone and his hand wandered on its own accord towards the waistband of his underwear. He had it bad for you, and Eddie didn’t want it any other way.

Though you couldn’t reach your hands up to card through his hair as you so desperately wanted to, you caught his attention just the same with nothing but those sweet lips of yours. He chased after your touch as you pulled away from the kiss, head shaking just faintly. The buck of your hips against him spoke for you.

Only, instead of taking your lead, his touch left you altogether. Eddie stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes, awestruck. His fingers drew shapes over your clavicle, inching over to your shoulder. The band of your bra strap snapped as he lifted it and let it flick back into place. Eddie hooked his finger under it once more but made no further moves.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you nodded.

Eddie pushed the straps off your shoulders, taking the tank top down with them. Gently, he propped you up enough to get the fabric up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. With the dip of his head, Eddie leaned down to kiss the swell of your breasts just above the lace of the bra you wore, as he reached behind you to unclasp it once and for all. Before you knew it, that too was long forgotten. You laid bare on Eddie’s mattress, covered only with your skirt that was still bunched up around your hips.

He cupped your face in his hands. Your stomach flipped at the thrill of feeling your own arousal against your cheek. His voice and his grip forced your eyes on his.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled. “A goddamn vision.”

There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice that made you feel warm inside with an emotion you couldn’t name. It only grew as he snaked one hand down your stomach and towards your core again, the other kneading your breast.

Ripples of pleasure rolled through you as he returned his thumb to its rightful place against your clit and pinched your nipples, rolling each between his fingers one at a time. You whimpered, hips bucking, and craving more and more of him.

The grin on his lips only grew at your silent begging. He lifted his hand, spitting on his fingertips, before bringing it back down to your dripping sex. It made an obscene sound as he gathered some of your arousal for good measure, toying with your entrance.

Slowly, Eddie pushed the very tip of his middle finger inside of you. His ring finger soon followed, and he twisted his wrist so that his palm now faced the ceiling. You writhed under him, craving more, but were unable to find it; his other hand gripped harshly at your hip to keep you in place. Only once he had you good and still did he push his fingers deeper. The thick rings he wore were cool against the fluttering heat of your body. He curled his fingers deliciously upwards. They only just brushed against your most pleasurable spot at first, leaving you just out of reach, teased.

You babbled at him. The sound of your own voice begging sounded far away, “Eddie, Eds, please”

Who was he to refuse you? “Well,” Eddie tutted. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Eddie knelt with his thighs pushed up against the mattress. He was close enough that your Achilles’ tendon brushed over the tattered denim of his jeans. But you wanted him closer yet. He still felt so very far away. Just as you mustered the core strength to pull yourself up without the aid of your hands, he moved his free hand from your hips to splay over your lower stomach, just above the pubic bone. It forced you back against the mattress, dumbfounded. You were fully at his mercy as he worked to fuck his fingers into you. They pushed slowly inside of you, down to the base and out again at a snail’s pace. He pushed them in faster, this time, only to the knuckle and curling them.

The added pressure of his hand on your stomach coupled with the speed of his movements ensured that every move hit you in a way that left you breathless. Eddie seemed to know your body like it was his, quickly finding the spongy area inside you that made your mind empty save the pleasure he was giving you. It was an electric spark that spread from your very core and threatened to burn you to pieces. You gasped at the sensation– a weak little sound that faded out into silent cries of pleasure.

And oh was that just the thing Eddie had been needing to hear all night. His own breath quickened as he doubled his efforts. The pace at which he thrusted his fingers was brutal and delicious. You mewled, unable to form a coherent thought that didn’t include Eddie and his magic fingers.

Each curl of his fingers caused the exposed skin under his tattoos to flex, and it looked so hot. Your eyes were drawn to the way his veins popped with the movement, and the sight nearly had you drooling. Every one of your senses was overwhelmed with him: his touch was unlike anything you could have anticipated, the shaky, aroused breaths that escaped him and the pornographic squelching sound of his fingertips each time he thrusted them into you made you dizzy, and you turned your head to whine into the mattress and breathed in his scent like it was pure oxygen. Eddie was everything. 

Your toes curled and your legs began to shake. “Eddie, ‘m gonna– fuckk, I–“

“Yeah?” He tutted. “Let go, sweetheart.”

His soothing voice and unrelenting cadence made it difficult for you to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. The tugging warmth of your orgasm that had been building surged until it was all-encompassing; intense pleasure slammed you all at once. Every ounce of tension left your body as you came around his fingers.

Eddie kept his fingers tapped against just the right spot as you rode out your orgasm. He lazily rubbed the heel of his hand against your very sensitive clit. Unable to help himself, he palmed at his erection with the other as he watched you come undone. 

You’d had orgasms before, but never anything remotely like what Eddie was doing to you. The familiar knot in your stomach was there as it built, but it was accompanied by something else— another type of pressure that was foreign to you. He left you no time to dwell on it, because you were coming before you could even really process it. When you finally did, it was a release unlike any other.

You hardly noticed it at first, but once you started to return to your senses, you felt something wet between your thighs that hadn’t been there before. Leaning up, you tried to get a glance at it. Your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed, as you saw what a mess you’d made. The bedsheets and—oh, God— Eddie’s forearm and parts of his pants were soaked. 

When you managed to look at him again, locking eyes, he was smug. There was no sign of disgust or surprise anywhere. He looked proud, almost.

“Eddie,” you said, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what… I’ve never done that before.”

Only you weren’t entirely sure what it was that Eddie had done to you, just that it was the most intense euphoria in the world.

He smiled at you in a way that made it hard for you to feel insecure. Like you were a work of art; his masterpiece, even. Eddie rubbed his clean hand against your cheek, gently stroking your skin with his thumb.

“It’s okay, angel,” he reassured you. “You’ve never squirted before?“

You hesitated. The term sounded vaguely familiar to you, like maybe you’d once heard your girlfriends whispering about it, but you didn’t think it was real. Hell, no other boy you’d ever been with had even come close to making you orgasm at all, so this was entirely uncharted territory. It left you wondering where the hell Eddie fucking Munson had been hiding those skills all this time.

“No,” you shook your head. “But it felt really good.”

“I’m glad,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the blooming hickey he sucked on your neck earlier. “Just wanna make you feel so good. Such a good girl.”

He breathed in your scent like he was trying to commit it to memory. Eddie stayed with his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck for only a moment. He was leaning back up all too soon.

Finally, Eddie pulled his fingers from you and held them up to the light. His lips curved as he admired the way your slick glistened, thick as he separated his index and middle fingers. A deep hum left him as he lifted his hand to his waiting mouth and licked them clean. 

“You taste so fuckin’ amazing,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” You asked, though your head still swam with the haze of your orgasm.

“Think it might be my new favorite dessert,” he confirmed.

Your heart flipped. Though you assumed he was only teasing, Eddie knew just what to say to render you speechless. You couldn’t get enough.

Eddie lowered himself onto the mattress next to you. As he propped himself up by the elbow, he brushed some hair from your face. His umber eyes were dark with lust-blown pupils.

Though your cheeks still burned, you grinned mischievously as a memory creeped up on you. It was probably something you should have forgotten, what with everything you had all been through since March of 1986, but you could still hear Eddie clear as day in your mind, see his doe eyes widen as he glanced nervously at you over Robin’s shoulder:

“Those stains are, uh… I don’t know what those stains are”

Gently, you nudged Eddie to get his attention, as if there were anywhere or anything else in the world that it would be.

“So,” you locked eyes with him. “That’s what those stains are, huh?”

Eddie chuckled. It was a full belly laugh that had his shoulders shaking in amusement. He shook his head fondly at you.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what the stains are.”

Well, that and bong water, —mostly the latter— but he thought it sounded more impressive if you thought of him as some sort of sex god.

You hummed in recognition. 

Eddie smiled at you. He gripped the hem of his shirt in his fingers and toyed with it, chewing on his lower lip. 

“You know,” he said. “I’m feelin’ a little overdressed here, don’t ya think?”

“You are entirely overdressed.”

You’re unable to fight off a smile. Eddie sat up again and reached to pull his shirt up and over his head. It fell in a heap beside the mattress. As he started on his belt, you let your eyes take in the marvelous sight of him.

His skin was pale and his long torso seemed to go on forever. The black ink of his tattoos and healed scars popped against his flesh, the largest of which spanned across his stomach, just over the naval, and blended into the beginnings of his happy trail.

Eddie and you had never discussed that fateful night in the Upside Down. It was easier that way than to admit  your nightmares were still mostly plagued by the overwhelming fear you’d felt as you and Dustin carried his limp body back to the base camp in that stolen RV and in the weeks you spent nursing him back from the brink of death. Eddie’s heart slowed to a pace so imperceptible he swore it had stopped and, for the briefest of moments, he was on the other side. He knew he should have died that day and that, really, he supposed a part of him had. 

Perhaps for the first time since then, Eddie didn’t feel nervous or hesitant to reveal himself, scars and all, to someone else. Because it was you, after all. You, who had cursed at him through teary eyes for his monumentally stupid need to play hero and had somehow managed to remain calm enough to stem the bleeding, then scoured through the vehicle for something to sew him up with. It had been you who shooed Dustin out of the room, at least enough to shield the boy from the gruesome sight of your shaky hands as they crudely stitched him back together well enough to last until Steve and Robin and the others returned to regroup. He knew then, even in his weakest state, that he was in trouble because the flutter of your eyelashes made his sluggish heart ache.  As he looked at you now, your eyes blinking up at him, Eddie realized he never stood a fighting chance when it came to you. He supposed it was impossible not to fall in love with you, the angel who had saved his life, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. And every moment since then. He had called you his angel ever since.

You kissed a trail from the scars by his chest, down his tummy, and the one that disappeared under his boxer briefs. His skin was warm but erupted into goosebumps at your touch. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as you craned your neck further down to peck an open-mouthed kiss where the head of his aching cock strained against the fabric.

Suddenly, he’s stopping you. Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks, gently pushing your face away from him. The flash of hurt in your eyes must have been clear because he immediately softened his gaze, stroking your face lovingly with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong?” Confused, you glanced from the tent in his groin back to his eyes. “Do you not want to?”

“No!” Eddie cut you off, maybe a little too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat to recover, playing it off as a cough. “No, believe me, I really do. Fuck, if I’m bein’ honest, angel, I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you in that boathouse. But, right now, I just really want to taste you. It’s a need, actually”

Eddie wasn’t done with you yet. No, tonight, he wasn’t letting up until he made his sweet little angel come against his lips, clenching around his fingers, and, finally, around his cock. Only then, after he took everything you had to give, would Eddie allow himself to come.

This confession rendered you speechless. A meek oh was all you could make out. Though he smiled down at you, a hunger swirled in his eyes that had you feeling he wanted to swallow you whole, and God, you wished that he would. 

Even so, he made no further moves to act on it. His hands itched as he slid them from your face, down your chest and waist, before gripping at your thighs. He tilted his head, blinking expectantly at you. 

“So, uh, can I? Eat you out?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nodded. “I’d be offended if you didn’t, now.”

Eddie didn’t waste another second. He pressed himself down against the mattress, lowering his face closer to the apex of your thighs, and tightened his grip on your flesh, swiftly yanking you closer to his waiting lips. They were wet and warm as he peppered kiss after kiss up the insides of both your upper thighs, nipping at the soft skin there. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you wiggled your hips to chase his touch.

His breath hit your sopping core as he let out a quiet chuckle. Eddie nudged his nose foreword, just barely brushing it against the hood of your clit, dragging it down to your wetness.

He hummed, “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Eddie, I swear to–“

Your empty threat dissolved as he relented. Eddie shifted his grip to spread your lips open for him, thighs now caged in the crooks of his elbows. It’s when he wrapped his lips around your clitoris that the shock of pleasure shot through your spine and took the words from you. He sighed into your core and let himself push closer to it, almost smothering himself. 

Eddie intermittently flitted his tongue out as he suckled at your clit. His mouth worked at the perfect rhythm and if you’d had the presence of mind to listen past the hammering of your heart in your chest, you would have been able to make out the tune he was humming; ‘Open Arms’ was surely for your benefit. 

With his arms wrapped tightly around your hips, you had no choice but to ignore the urge to buck your hips against him. You got only what Eddie gave you, and good God, would you take every last ounce of pleasure hungrily.

After what could have been minutes, hours, or mere seconds —you couldn’t tell— Eddie broke his lips’ seal from your clit and let his nose take their place against it as he breathed out. He’s only off of you long enough to let out a low rumbling chuckle, asking: “Hm, what was that, angel?” 

But you’re unable to answer him, because Eddie’s reattaching his lips to you and sucking with more intention than before. You couldn’t remember what you were saying even if you wanted to. Your mind was wiped of everything outside of him. Eddie Eddie Eddie. Your thoughts were a chorus of his name and him only. Eddie!

You had little presence of mind left to be embarrassed about it, as your second orgasm snuck up faster than the first. You were already close, barely able to contain your whines and sweet sighs any longer. Eddie seemed to sense this, and shifted his right hand from his death grip on your thighs—which would surely bruise, you noted with a twinge of excitement—and prodded two of his fingers at your entrance.

He licked lazily at your clit between words, remarking, “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He plunged his fingers inside finally, curving them again to find the spot he’d discovered earlier. His lips had only just returned to their rightful spot around your clit when your release hit you.

 Eddie didn't let up on his suckling until you were still again, a broken sound falling from your lips. You pushed at his head as best as your restraints allowed, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. “‘S too much, Eds,” you pleaded.

He pulled himself away with a wet smack of his lips. Eddie wiped your arousal from his face with the back of his hand, though not without sucking it clean off his fingers. The grin he gives you is a delicate mix of devilish and heavenly.

Eddie crawled up the bed, long, alabaster torso towering over you as he planted his knees at either side of you. His fingers fanned out over your face and cupped your cheeks.

“You okay?” His eyes softened.

“More than okay,” you assured with a breathy giggle.

“Good,” Eddie said.

You could barely think. Not with your body still humming from your earth-shattering orgasm and not with Eddie’s big Bambi eyes blinking at you with such softness and deep affection. It made you feel like you were being seen for the very first time. 

He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentler than before and he tasted of your slick, a fact that elicited a soft groan from your chest. Eddie swallowed it up. His guitar-calloused thumb stroked your cheek as he titled his head to deepen the kiss. It was passionate, sensual, and every brush of his tongue against yours stoked the butterflies in your tummy. There was a certain sweetness behind it, too, that you weren’t used to. The type of need that Eddie was oozing ran far deeper than lust alone.

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, panting to catch his breath and nuzzling his nose against your cheek. His cheeks swelled as he broke out into the fondest of smiles. You softened under the weight of his heady gaze.

Your entire body ached for him. Eddie may have been content to focus on your pleasure all night long, but you thought you might die if you didn’t get the privilege of returning that favor. 

Growing impatient, you were desperate to make Eddie feel good. You straddled Eddie as smoothly as you could, settling yourself in his lap. You locked eyes with him and kept your gaze steady as you pressed your dripping core harder into his erection, slowly dragging it for friction as much as his grip would allow. A low growl came from him as he blinked up at you with his wide chocolate eyes. A greedy hand grabbed at your ass, as the other lifted your wrists to his face. Eddie pecked soft kisses to your knuckles, the heel of your palm, and just above the metal cuffs. He pulled back just enough to see you properly, still stroking your hands with his.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he told you. Eddie’s smile never wavered. It had been a joke, but he meant it; part of him wouldn’t mind if you ripped his lovesick little heart from his chest and never bothered to give it back. He would let you with a smile.

He was painfully hard; you could feel it with every rock of your hips against his. The deep ache within him felt like your own, like every throb of his cock was your heartbeat.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Baby, please, I wanna make you feel good now”

Something inside his head short-circuited at the filthy words leaving your sweet, vanilla-scented lips. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered to himself. With a heavy swallow, Eddie nodded. He gripped your hips tightly.

His thumb drew mindless shapes against your skin. “Think you can handle more?”

“Mhmm,” a breathy moan escaped you at the feeling of his cock twitching beneath you.

“Tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You gave a single nod, “Yes. I will– just, please, Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

Eddie planted a searing kiss to your lips. He pulled you from his lap and set you down on the bed next to him. You watched with awe as he finally pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them away. A rush of want swam around your head and in your core as you took in the heavenly sight of his nude form for the first time. 

You truly weren’t prepared for just how perfect he was. The tip of his dick was a needy red, painfully erect, and dripping with pre-come; the length curved to the left and was just the right girth.

The kiss he pressed to your lips once he’d fully stepped out of his jeans was sweet and short. He kicked the fabric aside and leaned further into you, gently using the force of the kiss to guide you back against the mattress. Eddie’s left hand pushed your cuffed wrists over your head, where he wanted them, while he pumped himself a few times with his right.

“Ready, angel?” He asked. 

This time, Eddie accepts the slow nod you give him. He tapped his tip against your swollen clit, lips curling devilishly at the whine that escaped you. Tease. Eddie gave you very little time to feel sorry for yourself before giving you what you needed.

With one slow, measured movement of his hips, Eddie thrusted fully forward. He planted his palms against the mattress to hold himself up and get better control. His breathing was shallow and ragged, eyes squeezing shut, at the feeling of your pussy adjusting and stretching to accommodate the curve of him. The stretch was a sweet ache, and you’d never felt so full. If you’d thought Eddie was everywhere before, he was the only thing now.

His hips pistoned into you at an unrelenting pace. After so long of ignoring his own need, Eddie chased any relief he could get. And this, burying himself balls-deep inside you, was better than any drug in existence; it made him feel like a virgin all over again. A string of expletives left his lips that would have confused you if you had enough presence of mind to pay attention.

Eddie lifted your hips further up, twisting just so to ensure every pump slammed into you at just the right spot. It knocked the breath out of you until your lungs burned with every gasp and whine. The curve of his cock was made for you, made to fit right against your g-spot with every pass. 

You thought of running your fingers through his hair. But, of course, when you pulled at the handcuffs, you were unable to get at him. A deep chuckle rumbled in Eddie’s chest that stoked a fire within you and reminded you exactly why you had plucked them from their hook in the first place.

Your third orgasm loomed at a rate that must have been some sort of record. Eddie had you too cock drunk to care, though. It was like you were floating and a lucid part of your brain wondered if the heat of your pleasure had set you ablaze and you were watching yourself from above. 

Eddie lifted himself away from you enough to get a good look at every inch of you— your plush lips parted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glistening and pupils blown wide, the bounce of your breasts in time with his thrusts, the way his hand looked as he splayed it wide over your lower stomach, meeting just over where his cock hit your walls. He did his best to commit every last detail to memory.

His thrusts became sloppier, nearly stuttering, with the way your walls tightened. 

“You close?” He managed, but it wasn’t much of a question. “Come on, good girl, come f’r me, just one more. That’s it”

As if your words summoned it, you spasmed and contracted around him with your third and final orgasm. Your back arched clear off the mattress like a woman possessed, weak and held up largely by Eddie’s tight grip and where he was still fucking into you. The squeeze of your cunt around him was too much, and Eddie let out a guttural groan of your name as he came. His come was warm and foreign inside you.

Eddie collapsed onto you, the last of his strength he had been using to keep both of you upright finally giving out. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, panting into your sweaty skin until he caught his breath again. 

“Well,” he muttered. “Fuck. That was… fuck.” You chuckled in response and Eddie lifted his heavy head, not willing to miss a single second of it. “Yeah,” you agreed.

Eddie slowly leaned down to your bound wrists, pressing a kiss to the sore skin. 

“Here,” he helped you slowly sit upright in the bed. He pressed one last peck to your temple, then finally peeled himself away from you and his damp bed sheets. Eddie glanced around his room, ready to retrieve the key and free you, when your sweet voice pulled him back to you.

“So,” a playful smile spreaded over your lips. “You still wanna see that trick?”

Eddie hummed. He turned back to you, pulling his boxers back up to rest lowly on his hips with his eyes locked on you. His heart skittered as you blinked up at him.

“Ta-da!” you lifted your now-empty wrist to show off.

Your trick was impressive. Sure enough, you had freed your wrists from the bounds and the second cuff dangled from the chain, tapping against your forearm. If anything, it only made Eddie’s heart swell with the knowledge that you could have gotten yourself out of it at any time but you hadn’t, for him.

“Color me impressed,” he said.

Chuckling, you leaned in to him. Eddie keened, melting against the gentle touch of your newly-freed fingers against his face. Slowly, you pressed your lips to Eddie’s. The kiss was lazy, slow, and heavy. Your lungs burned as she breathed him in.

The unmistakable glow of headlights shined through the curtains as someone pulled up to the new Munson trailer. It was enough to break the delicate bubble of you and Eddie’s post-coital bliss.

Eddie grumbled, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. You lifted yourself to pull the fabric aside, taking a peek at who had pulled up. Panic inched up your spine as you recognized the car. 

“Shit,” you whispered. “Shit, Eds, it’s Steve.”

The headlights cut off, and you sprang to action. In your haste, you hadn’t paid any attention to where your clothing ended up. Your knees nearly buckled under your weight as you stood. With burning cheeks, you hushed Eddie’s cackle and could practically see his self-satisfied smirk without turning to look at him.

With Steve only moments away from catching you in far too compromising a position, you yanked your shirt as far down your hips as it would go and decided that would have to do; you couldn’t see your panties anywhere and you had no time to hunt them. Eddie, who seemed to have no trouble redressing himself, tossed your tank top to you. It was just over your head as you heard three telltale raps at the door to the trailer. 

Eddie’s long legs allowed him to rush ahead of you and lead the way to answer the door. His grin didn’t dull one bit.

“Relax, angel,” he assured you. “It’s just Steve.”

You really weren’t sure if that made you feel any better or it was somehow worse. Eddie’s touch burned as he slung an arm around your shoulders and you weren’t able to think about it any longer. 

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed at the younger man as he stepped inside the trailer.

Steve offered him an odd look at the uncharacteristically chipper tone but pushed past the pair of you and continued his beeline to the kitchen. He grumbled under his breath as he yanked open the fridge. Steve snatched the last cold beer and slammed it shut after himself.

You shared a brief glance with Eddie. Raising an eyebrow, you asked:

“I take it your date went well?”

Steve groaned again. Even his hair looked sad, drooping, as he shook his head. He opened the can and took a heavy swig. It told you everything you needed to know about his latest failed attempt at romance.

“That bad, huh?”

Eddie’s laugh is maybe a little louder than he meant for it to be, but there was no malice in his voice. Only then, as he set his beer down on the counter, did Steve properly look at you and Eddie for the first time since he arrived. It took him longer than it should have to notice something was off. When he eventually did, though, Steve’s jaw lowered. He blinked at his friends a few times as if he had somehow imagined it. 

You were worse for wear. Where you had it neatly styled when he dropped you off, your hair was tousled and messy, tank top askew on your torso. The thin fabric did little to hide your pert nipples from his sight and, holy shit, was that a hickey? Your lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, a matching set to Eddie’s, complete with spit and the gloss of your vanilla lip sheen. But all of that was nothing compared to when his gaze lowered towards your thighs. Steve struggled to look away, though he knew he should, but he was mesmerized with the sight of Eddie’s cum dripping down your thigh.

Only then, when he could still clearly see the single handcuff clasped around your wrist with its counterpart dangling at your side, did Steve say anything.

“It smells like sex in here.”

When no one responded, Steve trudged on:

“Were you two just– oh!”

Steve’s chocolate eyes widened slowly with the realization. 

You glanced over to lock eyes with Eddie. He barked out another laugh, his dimples popping with amusement.

“Sorry, Stevie,” he teased. “You just missed the show.”

Your fist didn’t even budge him as you smacked Eddie square in the chest for his lewd comment. He gently caught your wrist and snaked your fingers around his to hold your hand.

“Wait,” Steve flitted his eyes between you and Eddie. He called your name softly. “Is this why you didn’t want me to drive you here?”

“No!” You shook your head. “No, I just, uh, didn’t want you to feel like you had to or anything.”

Steve knit his eyebrows. “You’re never a burden, kid.”

Steve’s pretty face pinkened as he took in your disheveled appearance once more. You pulled uselessly at your skirt, as if it might grow longer. He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you squirmed under the heat of his gaze.

Eddie slung his arm around your shoulders easily, pulling you close. Cocking an eyebrow, he called, “Aw, Harrington, you’re just jealous I got to her first.”

“Wait, what?” You glanced between the two boys, brow furrowing.

The glances they shared conveyed some secret conversation you didn’t understand. You raised your brows, asking one of them to clue you in on their little secret.

Steve didn’t deny it when Eddie spoke for him:

“He thinks you’re pretty,” he batted his eyelashes at you, teasing.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” Steve whined. He turned to you, dipping his chin shyly. “But I, uh, yeah.”

It was just a fact. You were beautiful, and Steve didn’t see why he should have to pretend that was a secret.

Your stomach flipped. 

“Okay, well,” you stepped out of Eddie’s grasp and towards Steve. You picked his beer up from the counter and drank from it. Gently, you squeezed his shoulder and grinned. “Thanks for the ride, Steve.”

Steve’s pretty face darkened to scarlet, sparkly eyes blinking rapidly. He swallowed thickly and muttered out a weak response. You had them both watching your every movement as you carried the beer towards the living room.

“Now,” you called over your shoulder. “Who wants to watch a movie?”

You smirked into the beer as the boys scrambled to race each other to the couch, arguing amongst themselves about who got to sit next to you. Mentally, you decided you needed to thank Robin for ditching you tonight.

[rei-ismyname]

Let's talk R-LDS

R-LDS or Resurrection-Linked Degenerative Sickness was alluded to in X-Men #4 and the Infinity Comics before being named in X-Men #7. We're told that Magneto has it and it's directly caused by Krakoan resurrection/The Five, kinda.

Here's Beast doing some alluding.

In the panels above, we learn that Hank McCoy is the only one working on the problem - the problem being Magneto's loss of his powers and his body breaking down rapidly - his very chromosomes unraveling. He seems quite sure that it could happen to 'any of us' though the lack of quarantine suggests it's not contagious.

The next bit of information we receive is from Magneto and Scott in conversation, reflecting on The Iron Night. They took down a wild sentinel that was attacking the town and Mags lost control over his powers immediately after, requiring Scott to knock him out for safety's sake. Scott is no scientist, and while Magneto is a genius polymath autodidact (with plenty of experience in genetics) it's not a character trait that's seen focus lately. Thus, I'm assuming they're discussing it as amateurs and as patient zero in Magneto's case.

Magneto confidently names the condition for the first time as well as using an acronym for it, suggesting it's confirmed to exist, he's had a positive diagnosis, and they're using the term enough to require shorthand. He even spells out the subtext for us - it was a hidden flaw in Krakoan resurrection. I'll come back to that notion. Scott says 'we don't know that for sure,' implying that R-LDS is just a theory or speculation, which Mags doesn't directly refute. Instead he lays out the worst case scenario. They can't both be right here, so what's the deal? Magneto's symptoms are obviously confirmed, but how did they get from there to here?

If Magneto is the first and only person affected by his condition, why are he and Beast so sure about its providence and everyone being in danger? How could they possibly link it to Krakoan resurrection? I'm no scientist but I do know that there's only so much you can conclude from a single data point. Magneto was indeed only resurrected by the Five once, but he died again after that on Arakko (X-Men Red #7). The body he's in came out of a portal from Overspace in Adam Brashear's underwater base (Resurrection of Magneto #3.) His body suffering a condition borne of something that happened to a different body doesn't make sense. Considering he's the only person to return to life that way AND the only one allegedly with R-LDS, that would be the place to start for Beast's sciencing.

There he is, good as new.

Word of God

In a recent AIPT interview, Tom Brevoort removed any ambiguity and just straight up confirmed it. With the caveat that his recent X-history knowledge seems pretty poor, he is the de jure ultimate authority on the matter. I don't agree with that, and not just because I don't respect him as a creator. This habit of on-panel ambiguity and editorialising in interviews is vexing.

It's especially vexing when he contradicts himself. He counterpoints his own information with some of what I just pointed out, but the fact that they've made a list of who was and wasn't resurrected suggests R-LDS is a plot point they're committed to. I have to wonder why he bothered giving a detailed answer to this question if it's 'yes,' then 'maybe', then 'it will definitely be a thing you'll see as we progress.' Saying all of that and then ending with 'we know very little so far' really makes me wonder what he's thinking. Tom Brevoort could have given his usual cagey answer about not wanting to spoil anything, but he didn't here. I'm saving most of my Brevoort-specific criticism for a separate piece, but this glib and irreverent tone is typical of his commentary - even managing a light jab at Jordan D White.

Frankly, I think it's a graceless and cynical development. There are so many character beats, mistakes, and conflicts to use from the First Krakoan Age that choosing to create R-LDS feels like a shot at the core of hopefulness and creativity that blew our socks off in 2019.

HoxPoX

House of X/Powers of X was hopeful and magical. After a decade plus of endless misery and genocides, dull stories and bizarre characterisation, for once mutants got a W. The ability to use mutants working together to right the horrendous wrongs they'd suffered was central to that - the power of community and cooperation. What they built wasn't perfect but The Five was something they got right.

What would possess someone to take the cornerstone of the greatest X-Men story of all time (don't @ me) and try to tear it down? Remember, when the dust settled we ended up in Moira X life 10E. In 10A, the original Krakoan experiment, the mutants won! They thrived and protected what was theirs against Dominions. It took a literal apex AI God existing outside of space and time directly opposing them to fail. Enigma, on the back foot, sent Omega Sentinel through time to start ORCHIS years early and ensure Krakoa's collapse. Am I to believe 'no, sorry. That was a dead end?'

Haven't we been here before?

We've had mutants suffer from the Legacy Virus and M-Pox already, and I might even be missing other examples of nebulous diseases that threatened to wipe out all mutants. Obviously it's the prerogative of the X-Office to use whatever plot points they want, but do we really have to do this again? There are plenty of ways to sideline Magneto as a combatant that don't require repackaging old storylines. We've even had Hank McCoy decades behind the curve desperately trying to catch up before - in All-New All-Different X-Men.

Small World

Defenders-era Hank McCoy might be the worst possible 616 scientist to tackle this problem. He's literally decades behind the science curve and doesn't have the experience in dealing with anything like this. He's not the same guy that worked on M-Pox or the Legacy Virus. He never set foot on Krakoa and has never met any of the Five. We don't know how much data was recorded or kept from The Five but Beast may not have access to it.

Why isn't he talking to Cecilia Reyes, Forge, Jean Grey, Reed Richards, Doctor Strange, Adam Brashear, Healer, Doctor Nemesis? Even doctor dickhead that extorted Storm has the ability to instantly diagnose anyone. It makes the world feel tiny, and when you're following an era of interconnectedness that's just so disappointing. Portraying him as supremely concerned about 'all of us being ticking time bombs' rings hollow if he's working on it solo. Hank McCoy has always had a sense of arrogance where his scientific ability is concerned but not to this degree. Look at the guy! He's hating the stress he's under.

Sins of Sinister and the White Hot Room

I have to wonder if the implications of linking Magneto's illness to The Five's resurrection have been fully considered. The Sins of Sinister timeline ran for a millennium with the Five resurrecting on an industrial scale. Rasputin IV would have noticed, or the Quiet Council. The mutants left behind in the White Hot Room in RotPox spent 15 years bringing back ALL the dead mutants. That's 16 million, minimum. 15 years is less than a thousand but it's still longer than the First Krakoan Age, several times over. Nobody noticed anything? Elixir, member of the Five and Omega biokinetic, with his unlimited mastery of DNA didn't notice anything? Destiny didn't see mutants falling apart? Sounds dubious as hell to me.

Towards the end of the era many humans were resurrected too. 5% of the Five's work was set aside for bringing back poor children etc through the Phoenix Foundation. Steve Rogers was resurrected into his current body on Judgement Day. I am extremely skeptical that this has been considered, and in Steve's case whether the X-Office can even use him.

Conclusion

Magneto's physical degradation has been swift. Here he is in Uncanny X-Men #700, implied to be at most 6 months before X-Men #1. I think I've demonstrated that the concept is nonsensical and to reiterate, I think it's a terrible narrative choice. If I'm being generous, it'll be interesting to see if they can explain R-LDS in a way that makes sense - if they can do something new and interesting with a tired concept. There's only been one issue since it was introduced, so perhaps I'm jumping the gun on breaking it down. Let's check back in 6 months.

What do you think of R-LDS? Do you think my reasoning is sound? As always, I'd love to hear what other fans think.

[utilitycaster]

I do highly recommend the TLOVM episodes 7-12 roundtable because while I think it's valid to dislike some of the choices this season, and I definitely don't think "IT'S AN ADAPTATION DO YOU HATE CHANGE" is a useful argument, the discussion was helpful. In particular:

As many have said, the Bard's Lament wasn't done because they didn't know if this would be the series finale, and they do hope to make room for something comparable in S4.

Small moments or specific lines can be really hard to incorporate or adapt. Glintshore isn't really that compelling a battle outside the context of D&D; Keyfish is COMPLETELY nonsensical on several levels (the whole context for that doesn't really make sense if you can give Pike more focus elsewhere); this didn't get brought up specifically but my personal hot take is "call me child one more time" is a little too of its time (peak Hamilton Fandom era) to be worth bringing in verbatim.

Matt pretty much explicitly said that a lot of the deaths for Vox Machina follow timelines dictated by the spells involved and not what makes for the best story, and I do have to agree, and again, personal trepidation about some potential C3 choices aside, the CR cast has always moved in the direction of making their games more lethal, not less.

Anyway my thoughts on how I'd adapt S4:

Come back from the time away; have Tary have shown up and give Scanlan an outburst about how quickly he was replaced instead

Do Keyleth's water trial; make it less lethal but still highly stressful

Reveal Vecna in some manner; I think Pike having some kind of everlight-related revelation would be good, but I also do think the oracle arrow scene would be a good one

Get back Scanlan and then honestly hew pretty closely to episodes 101 onward except naturally shortening some of the dungeon crawls and only keep Vax's death during the Vecna fight. I'm not entirely sure if Sprigg fits in with a streamlined plot but my gut says they'll try to make it work. however i do think they should probably skip Arkhan.

[celtyshiftingrealitiddies]

AWAKE SHIFTING TIPS +

SHIFTING METHOD: FOCUS METHOD

Type: awake (similar to meditation;begginer friendly)

Hiii so one of my friends in a server asked for tips on awake shifting which inspired this post. I'm gonna give up guys some tips for beforehand to really get u in a good state to shift via this meathod bc if u jump right in and aren't usually the meditation type it might be more difficult but imma explain all the meditation stuff like a for dummies book and make it easy for yall (yay!).

Pre-attempt: So firstly to make it easier for you to start the meathod you can do some breathing techniques, you can look up some on YouTube if you'd like but I'll also recommend one of my favs. So this breathing technique is simple actually all you gotta do is breathe into your chest and let the oxygen flow to your head (hold ur breathe and focus on feeling the oxygen move to your head). Do this for a while till you like feel serene/at peace/relaxed or till you forget what you were doing bc u were to focused on breathing whichever comes first shouldn't take to long dw you'll be suprised.

Secondly you can use a hand mudra imma put a chart down below i made btw. The purpose of this is bc for the meathod your gonna want to hone in and hand mudras are kinda like the difference between using a marker and a fine point pen. if your gut is wanting to do something specific with your hands on its own listen to it, if not use one of these or whatever u come up with as long as you stay away from ones that are kinda rounded, and ones with ur hands separated. I've found that when I try and reality shift a sharper mudra with both hands will really sharpen your energy/intent.

MEATHOD TIME YAY

So if your using a mudra (Not nessasary) have it picked out beforehand to use.

The Focus method (How I Usually Shift)

So your gonna get in a comfortable or safe space where you can be fully relaxed and just focus on shifting. This method can be done laying down, sitting, standing whatever.

Imma give you guys 2 versions use whichever works for you.

Version 1: Pick out your dr first, now you have your intention set for what your doing with this method. Now your gonna focus, not about anything in particular simply focusing. When you start to feel like pulses/brainwave type sensations you'll know you've achieved the type of focus needed. Keep maintaining your focus at some point you'll probably notice your surrounding/the world around you fading/changing, it's working don't shift your focus to that tho keep maintaining the focus until you feel yourself coming back to your body. Your dr body on your own.

Version 2: alright version 2 has slightly different begining steps. After you've picked out you dr your going to imagine it/things about it until you can lock in on its essence. This can come from the most stupid random small things, you might feel like it needs to be something that encapsulates the whole dr but nah just keep thinking about your dr until you hit that one thing that bridges you to it in that moment.this is a feeling you'll be able to tell what I mean because the thing will bring you the essence of your dr. Now once you've locked onto the essence you can start your shifting attempt. (You don't need to continuously feel that essence thing btw you just need to have locked onto the energy for your shift bc the next part will bring you there). From here you'll focus, (again not on particulars) simply focusing on focusing. Keep focusing until your world, cr, any world; it fades away. Don't divert your focus when you feel your surroundings shifting and changing, keep maintaining your focus until you drift back to being present in your body once more. Your dr body; when you emerge.

Merry shifting~

The game :P

[mywitchyblog]

what is your take in shifting to "escape your current reality"? I just saw someone on shiftok saying it's bad and you shouldn't do it bc you will take your CR problems to your DR and it won't solve a thing lol personally, I think that's bullshit. you are literally in another reality where you can be a totally different person, you can even script a different personality and you will have a different environment. so this take doesn't make sense to me at all. I'm really curious about your thoughts though

I think the people who say shifting as a form of escapism is bad often fall into two categories:

They have a misguided notion and think they're trying to "protect" you—but they don’t really understand how shifting works. Let’s be real: we all have things we do to escape our current lives from time to time, whether it’s binge-watching TV shows, playing video games, getting lost in a good book, or even scrolling through social media for hours. These are all forms of coping, right? And yet, no one really bats an eye at them. So, why is shifting any different? For some reason, there’s this assumption that shifting is inherently dangerous, and honestly, that’s just not true.

They don’t understand that shifting isn’t like dragging your emotional baggage into a new reality. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You can shift into a completely different version of yourself, with a different personality, and even different memories. Like, imagine scripting a DR where you don’t even remember the things that stress you out in this reality (CR). That’s totally possible! You’re not bound to your CR problems unless you choose to bring them along. People who say you’ll "carry your CR issues into your DR" don’t really get how deeply you can control your DR experience.

Shifting is about creating a reality that’s tailored to you and your desires. So if you want to leave behind your stress, anxieties, or problems from your CR, you can absolutely do that. You can even script a version of yourself in your DR who has already dealt with those issues, or who doesn’t even see them as problems in the first place. It’s your reality to shape.

And look, let’s talk about escapism for a sec. Escapism isn’t inherently bad. We all do it. It’s a way to take a break from things when they get overwhelming. The key is balance. The same way people take vacations to recharge or dive into hobbies to clear their minds, shifting can be used as a form of self-care. It’s not about avoiding problems forever, but about giving yourself space to breathe, to grow, or even to find new solutions from a fresh perspective.

Plus, let’s not ignore the therapeutic benefits shifting can have. Sometimes, stepping away from your current life, even temporarily, gives you the mental clarity you need to come back and tackle issues with a fresh mindset. If you’ve ever had a "eureka" moment after taking a walk or stepping away from a stressful situation, shifting can work in a similar way. You’re not escaping in a negative sense; you’re giving yourself a chance to recharge and possibly gain new insights. It’s like pressing "pause" on your CR to focus on a more peaceful, fulfilling experience, and that’s not a bad thing at all.

Also, shifting can enhance your personal growth. You’re experiencing life from a completely different perspective, which can open your mind and allow you to learn new things about yourself. Let’s say you’re struggling with confidence in your CR—shifting into a reality where you’re more self-assured can help you feel what it’s like to be confident. You can bring those feelings back with you when you return to your CR. In this way, shifting can actually help you face your CR challenges in a stronger, more empowered way.

The take that "shifting as escapism is bad" really misses the bigger picture of what shifting is all about. It’s not just running away from your problems—it’s about exploring different aspects of yourself, healing, or just giving yourself a mental break. Everyone needs to escape sometimes, and shifting is just a more immersive way to do it. Honestly, it's like the ultimate form of self-care, because you're not just escaping, you’re choosing to create a reality that aligns with your desires, where you can be the best, most fulfilled version of yourself.

And to be fair, there are probably some people who are projecting their own issues onto shifting when they say it’s dangerous. They might not fully understand it, or they’ve only heard bits and pieces about it. But, in reality, shifting is such a personal and customizable practice. You can make it work for you in ways that feel healing, enlightening, and completely safe.

So, to wrap it up: using shifting as a form of escapism isn’t something to shame or criticize. You’re not bound by the rules of your CR when you shift. You’re free to create a new experience that supports you, whether that’s through healing, self-discovery, or just taking a break from the stress of everyday life. Balance is key, of course, but shifting gives you the power to choose how you want to use it—whether it's to escape, to explore, or to grow.

And if someone still thinks it’s “bad” to shift for escapism? Well, let them have their opinion, but it doesn’t mean they’re right. Shifting is about you and your journey, so as long as it’s helping you, that’s all that matters!

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ MAYBE I COULD HOLD YOU IN THE DARK

I HAVE TAKEN GOD'S LONELIEST CREATION & PUT YOU INSIDE IT.

ଓ.° ・ ran haitani. tokyo revengers. reader has no specific pronouns or features. nsfw. MDNI. quote cr : ocean vuong. title cr : halsey - bells in santa fe. revised / rewritten / reposted.

one. the heart is not made of gentle beings when it has succumbed to bloodshed and brutality, hands bathed in sin & sanguine. he loves it, ran haitani : the warm body that lies next to you at 4:44am, and how desperately he seeks it out in redemption of catharsis from a life absolved.

in his blood there is corruption and underhanded means in vestige ; abandonment / stolen youth / survivalism is all he knows, all he is born from, and that’s all he needs.

he doesn’t need you, doesn’t care about you, and that’s okay. it’s alright. it makes this easier, you tell yourself, entranced in empty mantras of a siren’s song. it’s okay.

it’s okay because it doesn’t mean anything if you don’t care about him, either. you are going to convince yourself you hate him, ignore the way lavender eyes swallow you whole during wretched nights spent together, and act like you do not feel your heart pound against your chest in warning of what you will endure in the near future.

you are going to convince yourself you hate ran haitani. one day you will believe it.

two. “this is--”

“-- the last time?” ran’s voice is heavy with amusement and taunting tones as his lips brush against the shell of your ear and trail down your neck, adorning your skin with crimson hues that serve as a warning to others.

and what does it even matter, you think, instinctively tilting your head back with a sigh as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, tongue tracing marks in their wake. it doesn’t matter. you aren’t his and he isn’t yours, so what does it really matter, anyway?

it doesn’t in the end, you suppose, so it’s not worth overthinking. none of it ever is.

“i’ve heard that before.” ran hums with feign thoughtfulness, laughing when you half-heartedly hit his shoulder. “care to remind me where?”

“shut up, haitani. it’s annoying.”

another laugh, soft.

“...and i thought i was the pushy one.”

a red mark blooms on your chest, then another. it signals nothing of devotion nor worship, blossoms in the midst of mockery, but you’ll drown in the sensations nonetheless because that’s all you know you can do when you’re underneath him. he makes his way down your body, hands trailing down your waist as he leaves kisses made of wanting and an unfamiliar hiraeth. you hate how he’s looking at you, gaze focused, waiting, watching as you give into him entirely, just as you have done all these past months.

you despise how he looks at you, how he touches you like you could be something more. this is a stupid game you both play, but you try over and over again, all the while knowing that neither of you will get the happy ending you silently wish for.

“focus on me, pretty thing.” his lips ghost over the inside of your thighs, amusement palpable in his voice when you tremble under his touch. you look at him, frustration pooling in your eyes, but he doesn’t think too much about it & what it means, doesn’t indulge in the thought that you could love someone you shouldn’t and that’s why you’re on the verge of breaking.

ran doesn’t think about it. he tries not to.

your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his tongue against you, hand slapped over your face as you try to swallow your pride, repress all the noises he coaxes from that pretty little mouth. but ran likes to hear you, likes to know that he makes you feel good, so he wraps one hand around your thigh to keep you in place, uses the other to grab your wrist and lower your arm before lacing your fingers together. you lose yourself all too quickly when he does this, and you hate that he knows everything about you, about your body, and how suddenly it is that the self deprecation sinks into your existence and makes itself too known.

you try to remember to breathe, erratic pants filling the air as you throw your head against the pillow, trying to find purchase in something-- so you squeeze ran’s hand tighter when he brings you to that high. your body shudders, back arching off the bed as you instinctively press into his mouth, and you almost think you hear him chuckle against it.

your chest heaves, intoxication brewing in your veins, and a sudden exhaustion seeps into the marrows of your bones before you think to pull your hand away, but he doesn’t let go. ran sits up, gaze almost distant, hazy, before a lazy smile rests on the curves of his lips, and suddenly he’s too close, a calloused thumb tracing your jawline.

he kisses you, frighteningly gentle, and you think maybe such brevity in false affections is what truly will break you.

YOU ARE GOING TO CONVINCE YOURSELF YOU HATE RAN HAITANI. ONE DAY YOU WILL BELIEVE THIS.

three. you are made of filth and lies. you are lying to yourself and you understand that, so it’s only deserving that you choose to embed yourself with hatred. it’s mindless, numbing, and it’s nonsense, but it’s how you cope, so you accept it.

you tell him it’s the last time. you said it again tonight, and here you are, pulling the sheets closer to your bare body to protect yourself from the frigid air. ran shifts next to you, arm draped over your side. you still, but already he is taken away from the brink of sleep, so he watches you, presses kisses against your shoulder.

you don’t think you can face him. your heart races in a way it should not ; you know what it means, but you don’t want to put a name to the feeling, so you tuck it into the remnants of dignity, detach it from the strings of the love that tries to survive in you.

“i need to go.”

ran stops moving at the barely heard words. your pulse is a strange sensation against his mouth. he doesn’t think he registers what you’ve said initially, and he wonders if you are shaking again.

he wants to know what face you’re making, but he won’t look. not for your sake, but for his. he pulls away, maintains a passive facade.

“okay.”

“...okay.” you whisper, so you get dressed and you never turn back.

you want to hate ran haitani, you do. so you leave.

four. you do not see him for months after that. it should have gotten easier. it should have started the healing, rid of the hurt, this bitter distance, but it hasn’t.

ran texts you often. you know him to be the type to let people weave in and out of his life, apathy in his eyes when bonds are broken and never maintained. so why does he keep trying? your phone buzzes non-stop, but you pay no mind to it. in defeat, you turn it off, hate the way your reflection looks so miserable in the black screen.

this is not the answer. you already know what is, but fear is far stronger than a dispirited will, so you’ll stay like this, stagnant, and convince yourself that it’ll get better.

it’ll get better. it’ll get better. it’ll--

it is 1:54 in the morning. someone is knocking on your door.

you imagine it will get so much worse before it gets better. you open the door. ran haitani is in front of you.

dulled lavender, a newfound vacancy that barely slips through the cracks. you stare at each other, listless. there are tears that trail down your face.

you miss him. you hate him.

you hate ran haitani, so you let him in.

five. “you didn’t say you were gonna go forever. go missing and ignore me like that -- think you can pull shit like that on me?”

your jaw clenches. everything is a mess; your mind riddled with anger and mourning and yearning. it’s all so stupid. you stare right at him and neither of you dare to move. he can’t understand you, doesn’t know what’s been going on in that head of yours.

it’s not like you to do this. he knows that much. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned about you. he doesn’t know when it started, doesn’t even know why his footsteps led him here or why he even knocked on the door.

none of it makes sense and maybe it should stay that way, but he’s here now, and he expects answers.

“why are you here? i’m not yours, haitani.”

“ran.” he corrects you much quicker than he’d like, the strain in his voice too apparent. he looks away for only a brief moment, finds his composure, tries to retain that indifferent attitude. but even then, something more breaks free and he doesn’t like it. “if you don’t want me here, tell me to stop right now. i’ll go. if that’s what you want, speak up and tell me.”

there’s a subtle furrow of your brows; your lips part, but nothing falls from them. the hurt is more than you expect, harshness ringing loud and clear in his words. you understand his anger. you know you’ve been an idiot about this, running away from feelings you know aren’t reciprocated in even the slightest sense. you swallow hard, force yourself to remain in place when he leans forward, watching your features intently.

“tell me what you want.”

the words are gentle now. you don’t know if that hurts more, but you know your eyes sting and that you're a fool for crying. crying about emotions that have left you conflicted for god knows how long, crying because you miss ran and you think you love him when you were never supposed to be anything more than a warm body.

his lips ache. he wants you. he'll hand you his heart on a silver platter, stupid as it may be, if that’s what you want. because he recognizes this is love and he knows this isn’t him. he’s a man who only knows selfishness and horridness, but he loves you despite it all, and he wonders if you could feel the same, if you could ever be something else, something other than just someone he’s fucking.

he steps closer. you don’t step back.

“i want to hate you, ran.” the tears flow freely now, the loneliness that has been lurking in the shadows now present in full force. it hurts, this ache that has settled into your life. it turns sharp, jagged, and haunts you until you can’t bear it anymore.

“i want to hate you so much. why won’t you let me do this?”

what a fucking coward you are.

you break in front of ran haitani.

six. ran doesn’t remember much after that night, everything blurred and in slow motion.

he doesn’t let you push him away, but he doesn’t push back, either, not after you told him that. he doesn’t fight for people, not like this. but you’re different ; you’re worth it all, even if it doesn’t make sense, even if it’s shitty, even if it fucking hurts and it’s excruciating.

he doesn’t know what to do.

“it’s like watching a game of cat and mouse,” rindou speaks up, holding his glasses up to the light and frowning at the inescapable specks of dust that gather on it, “either one of you going to cut the bullshit soon?”

it annoys ran. he inhales deeply, looks up at the sun. blinding, too bright, yet always so resilient.

“yeah.”

rindou almost snorts.

“better hurry.”

ran haitani knows he is in love with you.

seven. “let me in.”

you glance at the clock, shake off the exhaustion that clings to your figure. it’s 1:54am again, a bittersweet smile of defeat appearing when you realize you will go through this all over again. nothing will change. he will leave and you will miss him.

you’re not going to get a happy ending with him, are you? ( and it’s your fault, too. because you could try. you could just try, bare your heart to him and break it in the process. but you would know that you tried, then. sometimes that’s all that matters. )

“who’s being pushy now?”

you don’t fight it when he enters your apartment. ran doesn’t sit down, doesn’t really do anything-- just waits. he stands in front of you, searching for something identifiable.

“you want me to say it? i’ll say it.” inside the apathy is desperation, longing. he’ll give it up, this sickening pride. he’ll give it up if it’s for you. “i’ll say it even if you think you hate me, even if--”

you watch, eyes wondrous as he goes on a tangent. you have never seen ran like this, disheveled and upset, save for the few exceptions when his brother gets injured. you don’t think hard before the words automatically spill out. you'll take the leap, risk it all. maybe it'll hurt, maybe it won't. but you let go in that moment, find your courage and wear your heart on your sleeve.

“-- i love you, ran.”

he can’t understand the way you look at him : eyes wide, afraid, yet hopeful all the same. the way you put aside your fear and admit that you’ve been in love with him all this time, the way you decide it’s time to stop running.

“i...” your mouth runs dry. how silly that this part is the hardest one to say. “i don’t hate you. i tried to-- i did, because i was afraid of--” a pause, then silence. hesitation.

“you’re exhausting. did you know that?” he stares at you, and suddenly he’s back, that same old visage he always wears present. but there's a relief beneath it all, and how suddenly difficult it is to keep himself at bay. “making me chase you like that.”

your brows furrow in slight confusion and bafflement ; you're nearly about to protest before he pulls you into a tight hug, face buried in your neck, tension dissipating at the feeling of your body against his.

it’s quiet. it’s two in the morning now, and you are both tired but you are both in love.

“...i love you.”

you laugh at the feeling of his lips against your skin. it is familiar. you missed it dearly.

“i know, haitani.”

“ran.”

[bts-trans]

241026 Weverse Translations

Jin's Comment 💬 on ARMY's Post ❇️

💜 : 이 노래 너무 좋아! 나도 밴드에 참가하고 싶어😆😆 탬버린은 필요 없나요?😁💜 J: 예.. (https://weverse.io/bts/fanpost/2-151413353?anchor=4-344978992)

💜: This song is so good! I wanna be part of the band too😆😆 Do you not need someone to play the tambourine? 😁 💜

J: We don't..

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

Jin's Comments 💬 on ARMY's Post ❇️

💜 : 석진씨 항상 우리 곁에 있어줘서 고마워요 J: 우리 아미가 최고야 (https://weverse.io/bts/fanpost/4-183491031?anchor=4-344980703)

💜: Seokjin-ssi, thank you for always being there with us

J: Our ARMY is the best

💜 : 오빠 노래 너무 따뜻하다 진짜 고마워 사랑해 J: 아미가 들어주니까 열심히 해야죠 암 그렇고말고 (https://weverse.io/bts/fanpost/3-183493355?anchor=4-344982376)

💜: Oppa, the song is so warm, thank you so much, I love you

J: ARMY listens too my songs so I gotta work hard Yes, that's absolutely right.

💜 : 가사 보고 울 뻔했어ㅠㅠ 가사가 너무 이쁘더라 J: 우리아미한테 작은것보단 큰걸 해드려야죠 뭐가 중요하겠습니까 아미들 즐겁게 하기위해 살아야징 (https://weverse.io/bts/fanpost/4-183492843?anchor=4-344986478)

💜: Almost cried when I looked at the lyricsㅠㅠthe lyrics are so lovely

J: I need to give ARMY's something bigger than just the little things* Nothing else matters Just gotta live to make ARMYs have a great time

(T/N: Reference to the lyrics of 'I'll Be There'.)

💜 : 오빠 보고싶어 😭 J: 그러실까봐 뮤비에 제 얼굴로만 채웠습니다 저는 잘생겼으니까 이번 뮤비의 포인트를 얼굴로 가자고 열심히 모두를 설득했죠 (https://weverse.io/bts/fanpost/3-183498590?anchor=2-306338290)

💜: Oppa, I miss you😭

J: I thought you might feel like that so I made sure that my face filled the entire MV I worked hard to convince everyone that I'm handsome, so my face should be the main focus of the MV.

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hiii could you write about Fíli with a very dominant and assertive Fem!partner?

And some Nsfw headcanons for that hihihi

(And maybe p3gging him🤭)

Whaaaat who said that

(yesss of course! fili needs a girlboss in his life honestly :D this is so much longer than I thought it'd be, enjoy!)

(Fili x fem reader - some NSFW marked at the end :P )

Fili, as prince under the mountain, has his fair share of responsibility. This means one of the things he values the most in a partner is their ability to be independent.

Your headstrong nature is something that draws him to you right from the start, long before he starts courting you.

The way you hold yourself with such confidence is magnetic, and when he first hears you snap at someone for disrespecting you he's practically making heart eyes.

And if you're snapping at someone to defend him? Oh boy he is gone.

While he's still finding his footing as heir, he can doubt himself occasionally, and will look to you for support once you've drilled into him that he doesn't need to bottle anything up.

He highly values your opinion, so confides in you often, and trusts you to be truthful with him regardless of the situation.

Fili loves that you know what you want and aren't afraid to ask for it. Sometimes it's nice for him to have clear instructions instead of having to be the one to decide.

(And he might not admit it readily but he'll bend over backwards to get you whatever you want.)

He truly feels as though he has an equal partnership with you. You do not rely on him entirely, just as he does not rely on you, but you are strong enough to support each other. It's a relationship he's always hoped for - one out of choice rather than necessity, and fuelled by love rather than obligation.

(If he just so happens to find your assertiveness incredibly attractive, then that's just a bonus. A bonus for you as well, since you get to watch his cheeks flush slightly pink whenever you get the chance to boss people around. :P )

🌟~NSFW~🌟

As outwardly confident and occasionally flirty as Fili may be, he'd melt into the ground if you told him to.

There's just something about your voice when you give commands. It's just... entrancing.

After a long day of important tasks and having to take authority, it's a relief for him to be able to fall apart knowing that you'll put him back together.

He's a very obedient sub most days. He has odd days where he feels like riling you up just to see how you'll react, but usually he's content to let you do as you please.

He is pliant and eager to do what you ask of him, just please tell him how good he's doing. Fili never says it out loud, but you can tell from the choked whimpers that he needs the praise.

Being the good boy that he is, he always wants to show you his appreciation - a service sub through and through. It would take a lot to pry him from between your legs and, unless you command him otherwise, he will happily stay there for hours as he drifts into subspace.

This does mean he's hesitant when you tell him you want to spoil him for a night. Not reluctant, by any means, but he often feels selfish when all the focus is on him.

Which is exactly why you decide to spoil him, knowing he deserves to be a little selfish sometimes.

He's even more hesitant when you show him the strap on you bought, but with your soothing voice explaining that it will feel wonderful, my love, I promise, he couldn't possibly turn it down.

Fili looks ethereal splayed out over the bed, teeth sinking into his lower lip and face flushed, and you wonder why you hadn't tried this sooner.

After prepping him so carefully for so long that he thinks he might combust from sheer need, you slide into him, and the gasp as he clings onto you is almost enough for you to cum on the spot.

You start at a slow pace, watching his face as he gets used to the feeling, and you're content to keep the pace slow until he pleads with a whine for you to go faster.

And who would you be to deny your prince?

He cums with a cry, and you're there to guide him through it, telling him how well he's done for you, and that he's been such a good boy. You kiss him lovingly and let him catch his breath before you gently clean him up, and you deny his attempts to return the favour, insisting that tonight was about him.

The night ends with him laying against your chest, with your fingers stroking through his hair, completely boneless and softly murmuring his thanks against your neck.

[ezzydantes]

Monster Trio Births part 2

Author's Note: Zoro's turn to be an ACTUAL daddy (although he's a daddy to most of us... lol). Fluff again. Warnings: Hard birth because having babies ain't easy peasy.

Zoro

You were about to have your child by the time your crew reached Wano. Zoro was happier it worked out that way with Chopper being present. If he was going to have anyone oversee his wife through childbirth it would be the blue nosed reindeer. You had both agreed that your mutual adopted son would be the one to bring your child into the world.

What had not been anticipated was the labor portion. The child was stuck and Chopper was doing what he could to save you both. Zoro had made a decision within himself that if it came down to the two of you... he'd pick you. As much as it pained him to possibly lose a child, he would deal with it and drag you out of whatever pit of Hell you'd drag yourself into if the baby was lost. You had been going through labor for HOURS now and your strength was failing you.

"Zoro..." Chopper cried, "I don't know how much longer she can hold out..."

"Take me to my wife...", the swordsman quietly stated, "She needs me..."

The small reindeer shook his head and led the green haired man to you. Upon entering the room, Zoro had to steel himself, not just for his own composure but for you as well. You were crouched down in the middle of your shared bed holding onto ropes that had been tied to the rafters above. You were soaked in sweat screaming in pain as you bared down again with the next contraction.

"Don't give up on her or the baby...", the man growled as he climbed onto the bed behind you.

"Let's try a different position..." Chopper immediately turned back into doctor mode, "Y/N back up and lay down against Zoro!"

You barely heard his instructions before your husband was taking you carefully into his arms. He leaned back against the headboard with you securely tucked between his legs.

"Baby I know you're tired and I know the baby is giving you Hell, but I need you to focus....", the swordsman gently whispered against your ear as he pulled your long raven locks o er his shoulder and began wiping your forehead with a rag that Robin provided. He began cooing in your ear, "you got this, Baby, we can do this..."

You nodded in the affirmative and squeezed his hands as you bared down again.

"I see the head!" Chopper shouted as he signaled Nami to wipe your face with a cold rag.

"I think a couple more good pushes and the baby should be out!" The small doctor joyously shouted as he instructed Nami to get more towels to swaddle the baby in.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you whispered between breaths as another contraction hit you.

"You're a Roronoa now... you can do anything... you could before too.... you're the strongest woman I know... you got this, Sweetheart..." Zoro encouraged.

You bared down again and Chopper said he could pull the baby out at this point. Relief hit you as you felt the child being pulled from you. Exhaustion immediately overtook you and you passed out after Chopper got the baby.

A few hours later you woke up to Zoro passed out at the side of your bed. You felt as though you had been chewed up, spit out, chewed up again and than spat on a sharp rock ravine. You silently yelped as you tried to move but woke up your lover.

"Baby..." he cooed as he suddenly stood up and crawled I to bed to hold you. "I know it hurts but... I need to hold you..."

The sound of his voice stopped your heart for a second. It was weak, needy even... nothing like the swordsman or first mate voice you were used to... softer and sadder than even his bedroom voice.

"Lover?" You quietly questioned as you tried to wrap your arms around him. He knew your intentions the way he knew your body and gently wrapped your arms around him as he knew you wanted. "I thought I'd lost you... you wouldn't wake up..."

You felt warm drops of water on your collar bone as you turned your head. Your Warrior was silently crying against you, causing your tears to well up as well, "I never meant to scare you... "

"You scared the hell outta me and the boy... he's still waiting to meet you..." the green haired man chuckled as he tried to gain his composure, "Little man deserves to meet his mother.. especially after the shit he put you through..."

You silently giggle at the admission. "I would love to meet the only other boy who could steal my heart...."

"In the morning... please... for now... I need to hold you... know you're real and here..." Zoro whispered as he held you closer, "Let those idiots of ours take care of him for now..."

You softly giggled. "They can't be too bad if you trust our son with them..."

"Shut up...." he quietly growled as he tucked you further into him while placing his chin atop your head, inhaling your scent, "Just give me a bit longer... please..."

His voice was still hoarse... you vaguely recall hearing him scream... you did your best to squeeze him to you with what little energy you had. "For the record... I need to train for the next baby..."

"This is the one and only.... I'll not risk you or a child again..." he said deadpanned as he stared down at you. You simply smiled knowing he was still raw from the possibility of losing you both, "Yes my love..."

A few minutes later their was a screaming baby being brought to you. Zoro walked ever so slowly as he awkwardly held your son. You couldn't help but smile. "Come here baby... is Daddy scary?" You teased looking up at your husband's annoyed look. You held the green haired babe close to your chest at first, cooing at him until he settled down seconds later. You fed him from your breast until he was full, burped him and changed his diaper before you made Zoro sit, shirtless next to your bed in your reading chair and hold the boy to him. "What shall we call him?" You whispered half asleep. He groaned at how annoying this situation was even though he smiled at the fact that his son was so relaxed in his arms.

"You can ask Robin as well... babies love skin to skin with Mommy but Daddy too... " you smiled as your infant son snuggled into his father's warmth. Zoro gently telling him all the different sword styles he'd learn and about the swords he'd inherit. "Alexander.... Xander... ", you yawned as you closed your eyes, "It means 'defender of man'.... a true warrior..."

"Alexander? Xander... Roranoa Alexander... alright... And you're main job besides being the greatest swordsman in the world is protecting your mother..." the swordsman quietly whispered thinking you were asleep, seeing your eyes closed, "Your mother is the most precious thing you will have in this world... and it's your job now to help me protect her... and when you find someone like your mother.... you hold onto her tight... just like my Sensei taught me, and you protect her too..."

You gently smiled as you heard your husband settle your son down. You gave a satisfactory moan as he curled into your shared bed and pulled you close. His strong arms around you and his breath coming through his nose at the top of your head. "I love you...."

"Hnnn" he groaned, readjusting you to face him, "I love you too... " He kissed your forehead and then your lips before wrapping you into him. "By the way... six weeks is bullshit..."

You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest. "I have to heal... plus you want me pregnant again so soon?"

"We'll test this one out first but I'm gonna say a hard NO for now..." he sighed.

You kissed his cheek, "Good answer..."

[shadowtriovibes]

Hi! I absolutely love your fics! I have a little request/idea. Sebastian finds out that MC has a little crush on professor sharp and all of a sudden can’t stand his favorite professor. (His small crush on professor garlick is totally different and super justified)

jealousy, you got me somehow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Sebastian finds out about your little crush on a certain Potions master and all of a sudden can’t stand the man. (His small crush on Professor Garlick is, of course totally different and super justified.)

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk. Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side. “You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

Sebastian first finds out about your little preoccupation when he innocently stumbles upon you studying with a group of your fellow Slytherin girls in a quiet corner of the library. Or at least, it was quiet until Nerida Roberts had started to derail your entirely legitimate conversation about the uses of Dittany for an upcoming Potions exam by bringing up Professor Sharp himself.

“He’s just so handsome,” she sighs dreamily. “How am I supposed to focus on what’s going on in my cauldron when he’s standing right across the room looking all brooding and roguish?”

Violet McDowell giggles and adds, “I could listen to him talk all afternoon and I wouldn’t learn a single thing!”

“I suppose that’s why so many seventh-year girls are still taking Potions even if they don’t need it for their N.E.W.T.s,” you murmur.

“Can you blame us?” Violet sighs. “You must admit, he’s quite nice to look at.”

“Of course I think he’s handsome,” you say with a scoff. “Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t see the man.”

As if on cue, Sebastian comes around the corner carrying a large stack of books on defensive magic and spots the three of you huddled around your Potions notes.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says with an easy smile.

Sebastian sets his books on the edge of the table and leans down next to you to steal a chaste kiss while he can. He’s seen relatively little of you this week while you both prepare for exams in classes the other doesn’t have, so not even your late-night study sessions have overlapped.

“Speak of the devil,” Nerida teases.

“Shh!” you whisper. “Enough now.”

“Not keeping secrets from me, are you?” Sebastian asks teasingly as he snags one of the empty seats.

“Of course not,” you demur. “By the way, have you got my Potions notes from last week? I think I mixed them up with yours from Ancient Runes.”

Sebastian chuckles and asks, “Trying to change the subject? I must have walked into something quite scandalous.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Nerida says teasingly. “We were just chatting about Professor Sharp.”

“Oh?” Sebastian asks, surprised. “What’s he done now?”

“Nothing,” Violet McDowell answers. “We were just saying that he’s easily the most handsome professor at Hogwarts.”

“He’s certainly your girlfriend’s favorite,” Nerida says with a smirk.

Sebastian raises a skeptical eyebrow at you, and sure enough, you’re blushing.

“Really?” he drawls. “You have a thing for Sharp?”

“No!” you whine. “I just – I really like Potions class, that’s all.”

“Of course you do,” Violet taunts. “So you can moon over Sharp during his lectures!”

You shoot Violet a threatening look and not-so-gently kick the toe of your boot against her shin underneath the table. She yelps and curses under her breath before indignantly burying her face behind her Potions textbook, and Nerida wisely avoids eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

After a beat, Sebastian clears his throat and says, “Well then, I, er… suppose I’ll leave you girls to it.”

He helps himself to one more kiss goodbye and you can tell by the significant look he gives you before leaving that this is not the last you’ll hear from him about your crush.

Sure enough, a few nights later the two of you manage to claim a loveseat by the fire in your common room where you can curl up against his side and revise your Potions notes one last time before your exam while Sebastian dutifully transcribes runic diagrams onto lengths of parchment.

“Are you feeling prepared for your exam tomorrow?” he asks you casually.

“I think so,” you answer. “It’s not a practical, so I can’t imagine it will be too challenging.”

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk.

Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side.

“You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

“What?” he laughs. “I’m just teasing you, love.”

You narrow your eyes at him skeptically. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Well, it’s just… I don’t really know what you see in him, that’s all,” he murmurs, lazily turning a page in his Ancient Runes textbook.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I just think he’s rather foul,” Sebastian says plainly. “He’s impatient, meticulous, he’s clearly got a dark past and I truly don’t understand why all you girls think he’s obviously the most handsome man at Hogwarts. To me, he’s simply average.”

Merlin’s beard, you think. You knew Sebastian wasn’t a fan of Hogwarts’ Potions master, but you had no idea his dislike ran so deep.

“I think he’s a good professor,” you offer quietly. “He’s always been quite helpful to me, especially when I needed to master healing potions, and he saved my life in the Repository.”

“How generous of him,” Sebastian mumbles.

Angrily, you sit up a little straighter and pluck Sebastian’s quill out of his hand so he’ll look at you.

“And what about you?” you demand indignantly. “While we’re on the subject of good-looking professors, I happen to know that you turn into a stammering, blushing fool whenever Professor Garlick is nearby.”

You know for a fact that Sebastian Sallow is not an idiot, which is why it’s all the more frustrating when he tries to deny something you’ve known about for months.

“I do not!” Sebastian protests. “That’s – that’s ridiculous.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You are not a subtle person, Sebastian, nor are you particularly good at being punctual, yet somehow you’re never late to the greenhouses.”

“W-well, I’m rubbish at Herbology so I like to make sure I won’t miss anything important,” he lies.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be quite so rubbish if you actually listened to the professor instead of staring at her chest for the entire lesson,” you grumble.

Sebastian goes bright red. Clearly, he had no idea you could see him doing that.

“Look,” he whines. “It doesn’t mean anything, I just think she’s nice to look at is all.”

“And I’m not allowed to think Professor Sharp is handsome?” you counter.

“It’s different,” he insists. “You actually like him, it’s not just an attraction.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you hiss.

“It means he’s a powerful wizard, a brilliant duellist and he’s a former Auror for Merlin’s sake,” Sebastian angrily confesses. “I couldn’t possibly measure up to that.”

You feel your heart break a little when you realize what this is truly all about – your love’s relentless insecurities, the same ones he’s battled for many years now.

Softly, you ask Sebastian, “Do you actually feel threatened that I might leave you for a professor? We’re seventeen, Seb.”

“It’s preposterous, I know,” he sighs. “But I just… I feel like I could never compete with him.”

“Sebastian,” you croon as you take your hand in his lap. “I want you to listen to me very clearly, alright?”

You wait patiently for him to meet your gaze before you continue.

“As you said, Professor Sharp is impatient,” you agree. “He’s also meticulous, and maybe he does have some darkness in his past. But you also said that he’s a brilliant duelist and a powerful wizard. Do you know who else has all those traits?”

Sebastian swallows nervously and squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“You do, love,” you say softly. “So perhaps the reason I’m fond of him is that he reminds me of you.”

“I’m not an Auror,” he points out a little sullenly. “And I’ve never saved your life.”

“Not yet you aren’t, but we both know that’s why you’re studying for Ancient Runes so much lately,” you say with a fond smirk. “And since I’ve saved your life plenty of times, I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday.”

Wordlessly, Sebastian tugs you against his chest and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry for being such a prat.”

“Apology accepted,” you whisper into his chest. “And I love you too, you fool.”

He holds you close for a while after that, nose buried in your hair while you listen to his slow, even heartbeat through his uniform shirt. When he finally lets you sit up so that he can kiss you properly – not one of those chaste ones from the library – you find yourself halfway in his lap before you even realize you’ve shifted.

For Merlin’s sake, your notes are in a messy pile on the floor now.

You huff and try to climb off of him to gather them up, but Sebastian coaxes you back to him with a single finger on your chin, his eyes firmly fixed on your lips. By the time he’s kissed your frustration away, you can’t even remember what you were supposed to be studying for.

“We should bicker more often,” Sebastian says with a satisfied grin, his lips slightly swollen.

“On that subject, I was just wondering…” you ask him with a teasing smile. “Is there anything Professor Garlick has that I don’t? Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely not,” he murmurs as he flicks open the top button of your shirt. “Truthfully, you both have two very nice things in common.”

“You’re foul,” you tell him simply.

“I meant that you’re both kind-hearted and beautiful,” he says smoothly.

You’re positive that you know exactly what Sebastian meant and appreciate the compliment nonetheless. In fact, he’s being so sweet that you even let him undo a few more buttons while you can take advantage of your seclusion.

The next day during your Potions exam, while your female classmates are undoubtedly slipping in and out of pleasant daydreams about your alluring professor, all you can think about is Sebastian’s lips on your neck and his hand inside your shirt as he’d whispered all sorts of electrifying promises about what he’ll do to you after you turn in your parchment.

It’s a fierce struggle to focus on Dittany of all things with that in the back of your mind, but Professor Sharp is nevertheless pleased when you end up being the first to submit your completed exam and then promptly excuse yourself from the dungeons.