#he goes through a mental journey realizing this

[vesselmade]

honestly happy pride to them and only them

[funnyexel]

Pervy husband staring at his wife's big chest and her actually noticing his expression~

She got flustered and immediately covered her chest with her arms

a thrill ride of obsession

you felt it. the weird looks. the lingering glances. but you passed them off as prolonged glares. looks of disgust and of realization that he's going to be marrying you in a few short days.

but you read it wrong. so unbelievably wrong.

Secondborn!husband who's becoming sloppy, lazy in his sneaky ways of going through your drawers to steal your intimate clothing. Secondborn!husband that notices how lazy you are getting with covering up your chest, noticing the way you walk around the room with less and less fabric covering your body as time counts down to your wedding.

Secondborn!husband that openly stares at you when he purposely accidentally enters the fitting room, where you were trying on your wedding night attire. Secondborn!husband who is shoved out the female dominated room and mentally stunned by the outfit he got a glimpse of.

Pervert!husband that can’t ignore the way all his blood rushed from his head down to his dick. All his rational thinking getting lost on the journey to his bed chambers. Pervert!husband who whimpers and pleads for you when he rips off his pants and strokes himself to his vision of you. His vision of your curvy body and big tits squished into the bra of the tightly woven bralette.

Pervert!husband who’s knees buckle under him when the image of your faintly flushed cheeks cloud his mind, causing him to slide down the wall of his room, all the while not letting his cock breath from the tight fisting he’s doing. Pervert!husband who wants to cum at the thought of you squeezing your breasts closer together in your sorry attempt to shield yourself from him, your own husband.

Pervert!husband who could care less if someone could hear him on the other side of this door. Pervert!husband who’s mind just goes blank when he fantasizes about you on your knees in front of him, bouncing up and down on your heels as you push your tits against his straining cock. Strangling the muscle in his perverted version of quality time. Feeling the warmth of your tits around him and feeling the kitten licks you would leave on his tip. He can see it all unfold in his mind, the way you would breath so heavily from embarrassment and the excessive movement.

Secondborn!husband who acts like he didn’t have a manic episode of being so horny that he basically couldn’t breath or even think about anything but those gorgeous tits.

a/n: I didn't expect for this to take such a gross turn but hey, hope you like it. p.s. its black history month and time to spam my page as much as I possibly can.

more writing

[usedtobecooler]

it’s simple and it goes like this | steve harrington x reader

a/n: thank you in advance to anybody who reads this little labour of love, i’ve had such a great time writing this one and i’m so proud of the finished outcome. title from i’m in love with you by the 1975. 6.1k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, reader uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, piv sex, oral f receiving, creampie, soft sex, dirty talk. intoxicated characters, admission of feelings, angst and fluff. characters ages are around mid-late twenties.

summary: turning down a ride from your roommate and brotherly figure, eddie munson, in favor of staying behind at a christmas party ends in you finding an unexpected escape in steve harrington. a drive home and copious amounts of flirting later, the night unfolds in passion and letting out unspoken feelings, leaving you to grapple with the consequences of the choices made.

Staying behind at Jon and Nancy’s Christmas party had been a mistake, and only now, inhaling nicotine into your lungs without a clue on how to get back home, did you realize the weight of this mistake and how badly you wished you could rewind to an hour prior when you had a guaranteed ride.

Eddie offered you a ride home when he was heading out, which you declined immediately. His girl, Heather, really wasn’t overly keen on you, and would do anything to make the journey home as painfully awkward as possible.

You and Eddie had lived together for a few years now, the bond between you both knitting together so tightly, transcending more than just shared rent and somebody to talk to at night. He became your confidant, and you his, finding comfort in each other in a way that could only be described as a sibling bond. As much as you loved him, would do anything for him, he wasn’t for you, and you weren’t for him.

Eddie was just trying to look out for you tonight, be protective in that typical brotherly way, and make sure you got home in one piece.

You mentally kick yourself for being a moron and placing your discomfort at sharing a closed space with his girlfriend above your safety.

Standing outside as the rain starts to pelt down and seep into your skin, you’re regretting your decision. Heather was an ass, but dealing with her for a twenty minute car journey would’ve been favorable over standing outside in freezing temperatures, getting soaked to the bone.

You stub out what’s left of your barely lit cigarette, crushing it under the heavy weight of your Docs. You scan the deserted street for any sign of life, only for whatever forces that are in charge to offer you some form of rectitude — Steve Harrington’s car hums in the distance, lights illuminating the otherwise empty road.

The Beemer rolls up, Steve’s arm flexing as he rolls down the window, “Need a ride?”

Steve’s eyes are hazy, a flash of mischief shining in the dark honey hues — he’d spent the majority of the party with Eddie, the pair of them suddenly the best of friends after years of teenage hatred. He’s so high, you can smell it on his expensive jacket. 

Eddie’s disappointed face flashes through your mind, but the heavy material of your own jacket clings to your body, soaked through from the pelting rain. Fuck what Eddie would think, getting in Steve Harrington’s car beats whatever was going on out here.

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumble, a sharp little smile on your face as you round the car, sliding into the passenger seat. The door slams shut and you’re suddenly cocooned in familiar scents of leather and Steve’s cedarwood cologne. It’s painfully comforting.

The engine roars to life once more, and Steve makes off down the street without another thought. You pretend not to notice how his eyes hardly leave your soaked frame as you drive on.

The car purrs as you drive down the quiet streets, the unspoken tension between you both sizzling as Iron Maiden plays softly from the speakers. Eddie really made sure Steve saw all parts of him when they began hanging out, and Steve took to Eddie’s music tastes painfully quickly. 

“What’s the story then, princess?” Steve grins, finally breaking the silence, “Turning down a ride with Eddie for a nicotine break was a little silly. It’s freezing out there, you’d have caught your death if I hadn’t shown up.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you deadpan, sighing quietly and cringing when you catch yourself being a little rude, “sorry, uh. I didn’t wanna be a third wheel, Heather and I, we don’t get along at all.”

Steve chuckles quietly, “She’s a bitch.” 

“She’s such a bitch,” you agree with enthusiasm, finally turning slightly in your seat to face Steve properly, “I dunno what the hell Eddie sees in her.”

“Big boobs,” Steve shrugs, making a face when you hum in disappointment under your breath, “fair point, though. Can’t blame you for wanting to avoid that situation. Still, I can’t believe he left you there like that.”

There’s a beat of silence, your cheeks flushing hot. Was Steve being protective?

“I saw you dodging advances from a certain somebody tonight,” Steve wiggles his brows, cutting the tension quickly, “what’s the deal? He not doing it for you anymore?” 

You groan, rolling your eyes as you slump back into your seat, “I’m not in the mood for Brad’s games, y’know? He’s so hot and cold.” 

“Games, huh?” Steve grins, eyes landing on you for a moment, flirty and devastatingly attractive, “Maybe you’ve just not found somebody yet who plays the right ones.” 

You flush hot, heart practically beating out of your chest, because this is clearly the weed talking. Steve hadn’t flirted with you since that one time in sophomore year, when you’d come back from Summer break and had blossomed enough for the one and only The Hair to find you worthy of his time.

“Smooth, Harrington,” you choke out eventually, spluttering on your own saliva as you struggle to get the words out, “your list of admirers is endless, do you use that line on all the girls?” 

“Well, maybe I’m looking for somebody who can keep up.” Steve passes a lingering glance over your body, only to look away and avert his eyes back to the road before you can say anything further.

Over the years you had known him, you and Steve had shared stolen glances and cryptic smiles. Gravitating towards each other in Eddie’s absence, but never taking that next step. Steve had a list of conquests, and it pained you to admit every last one hurt to watch – somehow it pained you more to admit how pleased you’d become when each of them left just as fast.

You both knew that these were dangerous waters to tread, how protective Eddie could be over you was enough to have Steve keeping you at arms length, his respect for Eddie was too great to push it further. Yet here you were once again, sharing a confined space and feeling an aura of comfortability that couldn’t just be ignored until it went away.

The rest of the journey passes in silence, and all too soon Steve is pulling onto the dirt track towards the trailer you and Eddie share. The place is still in darkness, and you have to suppress an eye roll – Eddie was hardly ever home overnight now, too used to shacking up with Heather in her apartment in town.

Steve cuts the engine, slapping a hand down on his jean clad thigh, “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s creepy as hell out here in the dark.” 

He shudders for emphasis, and before you can protest and tell him you can manage on your own, he’s out of the car and rounding the trunk to open your door for you.

“Thanks, Steve, you really don’t have to.” You insist, stepping out of the car and internally cringing as your boots squelch in the thick mud where the tyres of Eddie’s van typically embed themselves.

“It’s okay, wouldn’t wanna risk something happening to you,” Steve says, a hand coming out to just barely touch the small of your back as you struggle like bambi on ice in the slippery mud, “here just – just take my hand.”

Steve extends his hand out and you take it with a slight hesitation, your need to make it to the front door without being soaked in rain and mud outweighing the heavy feelings sitting in your chest. 

It’s almost frightening how normal it feels, to have your hand clasped with Steve’s as you walk the short path to the trailer. You don’t want to know what that means, but it feels so nice, the way Steve’s large, warm hand encapsulates your own has your head spinning.

You have to, albeit sadly, let go of Steve to fish in your jacket pocket for a front door key. After a fight with the lock, the door swings open, the warm heat so inviting that you basically barge through the doorway, tugging Steve in with you without thinking.

Steve gawps a little, flounders from where he stands as you lean over his large frame to shut the door behind him, toeing off your shoes like you would any other night. When you finally take a moment to realize what you’ve just done, so casually, you’re suddenly aware of the slight crackle of tension, the magnetic pull of your bodies as you shuffle close together.

You guide him further into the house, flicking on a lamp that’s perched on a nearby table, illuminating the room with a soft, warm glow. Losing your jacket and throwing it haphazardly on a random surface. 

Everything seems to narrow with each step, pulling you both as close together as possible with each passing moment. Neither of you pull away, either, walking as tightly together as you can manage in the small space. 

“You want a drink or something?” You ask, trying to keep yourself as nonchalant as possible, schooling your voice as you cast a sidelong glance at him. 

Steve grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes, as he gently declines the offer with a shake of his head, "As tempting as that sounds, princess, I spotted a little note from Eddie saying he'd be back soon. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome and have him play a game of twenty questions.”

Your confused gaze follows his where he nods over your shoulder, and sure enough there’s a scribbled out note on the pin board hung up the wall;

BE BACK SOON SWEETHEART, DONT LOCK ME OUT!! 

You really do roll your eyes this time around, mentally sticking the middle finger up at the fucking note. You walk back and lean on the dining table, crossing your arms over your chest. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice Steve’s gaze never leaving your body, watching your every move as you shuffle around. 

He looks disappointed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. You dare to fix your own stare on him from where you’re perched, can’t ignore how he so naturally hovers towards you despite the rejection. Like he wants to do one thing but is saying another, trying to be the good guy.

Steve was a good guy.

In the closeness, the push and pull between you and Steve becomes devastating. The air is thick with unspoken admissions, and whatever sort of invisible barrier you had between you both begins to fade as you float into each other's space once more. 

With a nod of his head towards the door, Steve finally breaks the silence. "Guess I should get going, huh?" 

The words hang in the air, a question and an invitation, leaving you to decide which it’s going to be. The doorway goes out of focus, blurs as Steve inches closer to you and further from it, the silent tension lingering in the air – an unanswered question.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you respond, "You could stay, you know? We could… hang out." 

You offer with some sort of nonchalance, despite how your heart hammers in your chest, and it hangs with anticipation as you hold his gaze, leaving the choice in the hazy space between lingering and leaving.

Steve sucks in a slow breath, his eyes flickering between yours and the curve of your lips. You shiver visibly, and in that fleeting moment, Steve inches a fraction closer. It's a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes.

Up this close, you could really marvel at just how gorgeous Steve is, his tan skin flecked with beauty marks and moles, dotted like constellations. You wanted to connect them all with your tongue, kiss and bite him until he was branded.

“You want to, right?” You breathe, chest heaving slightly, and you forget all about how damp and uncomfortable your clothes are, how when he picked you up you wanted nothing more than to have a hot shower and go to sleep. Now, you want everything but that. You want to see how far Steve will go, you want to know if he wants you as much as you want him.

“Eddie’ll probably be back any minute,” Steve murmurs, those deep set eyes scanning over your entire face, lingering on your lips, and the tip of his tongue peaks out to swipe along his own bottom one, wetting it, “we… we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t,” you agree eventually, voice breathy and lacking conviction, entire body vibrating, leaning into Steve just as much as he was leaning into you. Your hands grasp for the edge of the table, grounding you when you need it most, anticipation enough to have your heart hammering in your chest.

“Yeah, we… definitely shouldn’t.” Steve mimics, leans in closer, his hot breath fanning your face. He’s beautiful like this, so close that you’re going cock eyed trying to keep your vision of him clear, but his guard was rarely ever let down around you, and you didn’t want to miss a moment. 

His lips brush against yours, a pained, strangled sound coming from the back of his throat, before he’s diving in for that first mind melting kiss. 

Time stops for a moment, this fiery spark igniting between you both as fierce mouths move against one another, painfully desperate like it’s going to be over too soon, like if you stop it’ll never happen again. 

All inhibition is lost, Steve’s fingertips squeezing into the doughy flesh of your waist, somehow pushing you together even tighter, gripping you with a fierceness as your lips move together. Like he’s staking a claim — mine, mine, mine.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entry silently, which you allow him willingly with a high pitched, contented moan. He’s experimental, swiping the tip of his tongue against your own lightly, lapping until he’s pulling these little noises from you, and it has your core aching. 

The light smacking sounds of moistened lips in an otherwise void room is an almost painful reminder that this was real.

Your shaking fingertips move from the table to grip at the front of Steve’s jacket, desperate hands trying to rip at the material, because a simple kiss was never going to be enough. Now that you had him and knew he wanted you back.

“We can’t,” Steve whines, pitiful against your lips as you struggle to stop, chasing his mouth with your own in a feverish passion as he barely tries to pull back from you, “you keep making these noises, m’not gonna be able to stop.” 

You bring your hands up to cup Steve’s jaw on instinct, without even thinking about it, holding him in place so he can’t fight with himself to get away, “Want it, Steve. I want you,” you breathe, sincere and pleading, guiding him back to kiss you again and he melts into you, “wanted it since the first time you stepped foot in here. Wanted you to want me too.”

“Always fuckin’ wanted you,” Steve mumbles, those soft, fucking perfect lips brushing yours as he speaks, so desperate it’s like he can’t bare to move back any further, “you’re so beautiful, shit. Need you, can I have you?”

You nod without hesitation as Steve's hands tighten on your waist, intensifying the urgency between your bodies. The kiss deepens, a mix of desperation and desire, creating a raw, feral, and unmistakably intimate connection.

Steve's lips become a drug, setting off sparks within you, and the forbidden tension hangs heavy in the air. Breaking away, his admission of always wanting you fuels the flames, and his calloused fingertips trace over your flushed skin as he murmurs, "Wanna do that forever," he murmurs, taking a moment to lock eyes with you, before reconnecting your lips once more.

A desperate groan escapes Steve's chest, a tenor of pent-up emotion. His fingers dig into your waist and jaw, revealing the battle within him – wanting you intensely but also grappling with the fear of irreversible damage. 

Your desperation and passion counteracts his conflicted motions, hands tightly clinging to his jacket, expressing the longing and fire coursing through you. 

Steve's plea transforms into a primal growl as he pulls you closer, creating an animalistic admission of want and yearning, leaving not an inch of space between you, pressing you up so tightly against the table that your ass mounts it properly — you willingly spread your legs for him, allowing him entry so that he can slot between your thighs.

Whatever boundaries you were trying to keep are long gone.

“You’re soaking, baby,” Steve notes, the tip of his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, “you need to get out of these clothes.”

“You think you’re so smooth,” you giggle, the delicate sound pitching into a moan when Steve dips down to mouth at your jaw, “think I’m soaked in more ways than one.” 

Steve grunts against your skin, his teeth grazing against the side of your throat. He rocks his hips into your own, and you have to suppress an embarrassing sound when you feel the half hard outline of his cock press against you. 

“You gonna be a gentleman and take me to my room?” You tease, fingers traveling from Steve’s jacket and up into his hair, nails tangling in the tresses and tugging him closer. You relish in how he finally bites down on your skin properly, determined to mark you as his own.

“What if I wanna do it right here, huh?” Steve mutters, kissing over the raised, abused skin on your neck, “You want that, princess? 

You nod, just once, a deep heat pooling in your gut, and that’s enough to have Steve pulling desperately at your dress. Calloused fingertips slide the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, and you help him take you out of the offending material, shimmying until it pools at your feet.

Steve groans, low in the back of his throat as he takes in your body, now barely covered by a skimpy black thong and a lacy bra. You burn hot under his intense gaze, squealing when his large hands snake under the backs of your thighs, kneading the fat between his fingers as he hoists you back onto the table.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” Steve mumbles, massaging your thighs that you willingly spread open for him once again, a silent invitation.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, moaning when he drops to his knees in one fluid motion, wrapping your legs around his shoulders as he goes. 

One thing that is apparent, is Steve’s love of eye contact. Touching you everywhere his body can reach, and it drives you up the damn wall. His eyes are darkened with lust as he trails hot, wet kisses up the insides of your thighs, pushing your legs apart further so he can slot his broad shoulders in the space.

The anticipation bubbles deep in your gut, cunt fluttering as he dips two fingers into the material of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose you to the warm air. You feel him squeeze you tighter, gaze moving to take in the sight of your slick pussy, ready and waiting for him.

“Mmph, she’s so pretty,” Steve moans, leaning forward in an instant to bury his face into the wetness of your cunt, running his nose over the bump of your clit as his tongue snakes out to taste you, lapping messily. 

“Steve!” You gasp his name, fingers immediately finding home in his honey highlighted tresses, sinking in and tugging lightly, pushing him closer to you.

It spurs him on, those fucking hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your inner thighs hard enough to bruise, burying his face into you deeper and grunting like you’re the best thing he ever tasted. He’s messy, lapping up and down the expanse of your core, suckling on your clit with a perfect pressure. 

“Shit, shit,” you’re basically wailing, hips rolling into Steve’s face and he just takes it, lets you guide him with your hands, moving him where you want him to go. 

He never breaks eye contact, watches you with these hazy, pussy drunk eyes as he gives you everything you want and more. Moaning into the heat of your cunt like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

“Keep doing that, m’gonna cum, haa,” you’re babbling, incoherent as your tummy rolls with sheer pleasure, Steve never once letting up on his assault with his tongue.

If anything, your words have him doubling down, pressing in so far you’re not sure he’s even able to breathe. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, violently, has you pulling on Steve’s hair so hard you know his scalp has to be aching, and you finally squeeze your eyes shut tight as you ride it out.

You know you’re gushing for Steve, making a mess of his face with the slickness that spills from your cunt, thighs shaking and locking him in tight in the aftershocks. He doesn’t let up until you’re physically jerking away, fingers running through his hair softly as your hips shudder. 

You’re barely on the same planet, unable to comprehend it when Steve rises from between your legs and kisses you deeply, feeding the taste of yourself to you. You moan, hands coming up to squeeze Steve’s face as you deepen the kiss, swapping spit and rocking against each other. 

It’d be disgusting if it wasn’t so erotic.

“You’re so hot,” Steve moans, pushing into you until the curve of his clothed cock presses tight into the cavern of your soaked cunt, eliciting breathy whines from you both, “need you now, yeah?” 

You nod, and he’s pulling you from the table in an instant.

Clothes scatter along the floor as Steve takes you to the bedroom, practically carrying you like you’re nothing. Neither of you leave an inch of space between each other as you rip his shirt over his head, tugging at the offending leather belt that keeps his jeans in place.

“Off, need them off,” you gasp, finally popping the button and burying your hand into his underwear. Tackiness on your fingertips from where the head of his painfully hard cock has been pressed tightly in the confines of his clothes.

Steve chuckles, pushes his hips into your hand and you finally get to feel him. Hot, hard, heavy in your hand — big enough that your eyes widen, and he’s burying his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment, biting at your shoulder.

“Didn’t get called King Steve for nothing,” he mutters, a red flush on his cheeks that he buries in your skin. 

“The girls weren’t kidding.” you gasp, wrapping your hand around what you can reach and tugging slightly until he’s bucking into your grasp.

You’re pushed through your bedroom door, backs of your knees hitting the end of the bed unexpectedly. You bounce back onto it, pulling Steve with you, a tangle of limbs on an unmade bed that smells vaguely of the vanilla perfume you’d sprayed earlier. 

“Couldn’t let a guy get his pants off first?” Steve grins, pulling back and looking physically wounded as he does it, to shimmy out of the remainder of his clothing.

In the soft lighting, he looks ethereal. The moles and beauty marks are everywhere, branding perfectly tanned skin, a soft tummy that just barely conceals a set of abs. He’s perfect, like a wet dream, and here he is in your room, in your bed, crawling back between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” Steve sighs, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his torso rolling into yours as he steals your breath from your lungs.

It’s everything. The way you move together like you know each other's bodies perfectly, touching each other with a familiarity despite this being the first time.

A hand crawls up your inner thigh, and two deft fingers sink into your cunt, crooking up and finding that spot, running against it until you’re arching under his touch.

Your own hand crawls between your dancing bodies, wrapping properly around the length of Steve’s cock, tugging half heartedly until he’s growling into your mouth, his hips punching forward into your touch.

Time passes like molasses, it could be two minutes or twenty, until you’re both gasping and desperate. Not even kissing anymore, just lightly panting with brushing lips. 

“Want it, want you to fuck me now.” You beg, clenching around Steve’s fingers for emphasis, cunt soaked and fluttering, needing more.

Steve nods, sliding his fingers from inside of you, understanding every word and desperate plea. He clasps your hand in his own, bringing them up to rest beside your head in the nest of pillows, “You ready, baby? I’ll take it slow, know I’m a stretch.” 

You nod, any witty remark dying in the back of your throat. The want and hunger for Steve overrides any other feeling, your brain fogged with nothing but him and his body tight against yours.

Steve grasps hold of his cock by the base, head bowing so he can watch as he presses the head snug against your cunt. 

You both inhale a shuddery breath at the same time, and suddenly he’s pushing in — inch by inch filling you out. You whimper, fingers digging into Steve’s, a mewl escaping you as you push up into his torso. 

Steve looks up at you, sincere and checking in, “You okay?” 

“Keep going,” you gasp, hips swiveling.

Steve’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan, watches as his cock slides into your wet pussy like it was made to be there, taking every last inch of him until he’s nestled up against you.

You jolt when the thick thatch of hair nestled at his pubic bone catches on your swollen, throbbing clit. A breathy, panting whine clawing up from your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, princess. Not gonna last long,” Steve admits pulling out a few inches only to slide right back in, making home, “god, like you were made to take me.” 

You flush at Steve’s words, “You can– you can move properly. Fuck me like you want.” 

“Don’t say that, princess.” Steve whines, fingers gripping your hips, “You let me have what I want and I’ll never let you leave.” 

Your heart beats faster, harder, whole body alight with all these different feelings, tugging at every part of you. 

Full on Steve’s cock and holding his fucking hand. It’s heavenly.

Steve pulls out properly this time, pushing back in and creating a punishing rhythm that has you mewling and spewing out these horribly loud moans and cries for him. The head of his cock nudges at your spot dead-on with each thrust, has you over-stimulated ridiculously fast, it teeters on the right side of painful.

Your fingers dig into Steve’s skin, other hand wrapping around his bicep. A moan escaping you as he dips down to kiss and nibble at your neck, “You’re so big, holy shit. Feels so good, so good.”

“Yeah?” Steve grins at you, cocky and sure of himself and you almost catch a glimpse of the old Steve in it, which somehow makes the entire thing even sexier. One thing Steve Harrington was so sure he was good at was fucking, and you feed into his ego with the way your body reacts to him. 

Sweaty skin slapping against skin, the creaking of your bed frame under the vigorous movements. The pants and cries that flow from your mouth with every hard thrust, the grunts that rattle from deep in Steve’s chest. It’s pure filth, everything you wanted and needed.

“Y-yeah, I— I—” You stutter as your orgasm crescendos, legs wrapping tightly around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the small of his back. Nails breaking skin on Steve’s arm as you shake and shudder through it, body practically vibrating with the sheer force of it. 

“You needed that huh, princess? Needed me to pull that from you?” Steve whispers, a moan leaving him as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own orgasm, “Fuckin’ gripping me, holy fuck.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, unable to stop how your cunt flutters sporadically for him, taking everything he gives you and then some.

“Holy shit, baby,” Steve breathes, fucked out and chest heaving, “m’gonna cum, gonna cum in your perfect little pussy.” 

“Please,” you beg, back arching and somehow pushing Steve in even deeper, eliciting matching moans of pleasure from you both, “please, please.”

“Shit – fuckin’ begging me to cum in you, you’re so perfect, shit.” He grunts, hips slamming into you as he nears the end, thrusts becoming short and snappy, rhythm faltering.

Your nails dig into Steve’s bicep, pushing your nose against his softly, ghosting a kiss over his lips, “Wanna feel you spilling in me, please? Mark me, I’m yours.” 

He moans loudly at your words, the noise so beautiful it’s like music in your ears. You’d almost be smug about being the person to pull it from him, if it weren’t for how fucked out he’d left you.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his face into your neck as his body wracks with his orgasm. He grunts into your damp skin, cock pulsing rhythmically inside the fluttering walls of your pussy.

You can feel it so fucking strongly it’s almost hard to breathe.

It’s sticky and messy as Steve untangles his sweaty limbs from your own, landing a gentle kiss on your nose. You flush hot, burning up at how ridiculously domesticated the simple motion is.

He pulls out sloppily, flopping down next to you on the bed and hauling you into his warm embrace. It’s — it’s unexpected, so soft and sweet that you tense for a second only to loosen up and settle your head on his chest.

The air is heavy and warm in the afterglow. Steve's gaze lingers on yours, a moment shared in silence, acknowledging your mutual feelings without a single word. 

You’re leaning up to kiss him again, unable to contain it, when suddenly the bubble is shattered, the bedroom door swinging open abruptly. 

Eddie stands in the doorway, his features screwed up with a mixture of shock and anger.

"Steve, what the hell?" Eddie's scratchy voice cuts through the stillness, his eyes narrowing as they dart between you and Steve. Steve bolts upright, panicked and caught off guard, shifting uncomfortably under Eddie's intense gaze.

"Eddie, I can explain," you begin, panic rising in your chest as you sit up and pull the sheets closer around you. The atmosphere suddenly becomes charged with tension, and Eddie's expression tightens further.

"Explain? Explain what, exactly?! That my best friend is in bed with my-my – dammit dude, she’s like a sister to me! What the hell?!" Eddie's tone is sharp, a mix of disbelief and fury. Steve runs a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly searching for words that could help calm the escalating situation.

"Eddie, it just happened. We didn't plan—" Steve starts, but Eddie interrupts with a held up ringed hand.

Neither of you push it any further, words dying in both of your throats at such a simple movement. You’re so far apart by now that Steve is basically hanging off the edge of the bed, and you can’t help the way your heart feels fucking heavy with it.

"I don't care. This is not okay. I told you not to touch her, Steve. She’s not a girl to play with." Eddie's disappointment is palpable, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

The room is filled with a devastating silence, broken only by echoes of Eddie's anger and the heavy weight of his boots shuffling along the hard floor as he walks away. The trailer door slams shut so hard that the entire shell ricochets with the force. 

It all becomes so painful once Steve hauls himself off of the bed, frantically throwing on every strewn article of clothing that he’d shed just hours earlier, his head bowed like he can’t even bear to look at you. Like he’s scared and doesn’t want to face up to everything that happened.

You can’t even blame him. 

“Steve, wait,” you start, vision blurring at the edges as panic starts to set in, grappling to come to terms with the fact this was all going to be over, “don’t listen to him. He’s wrong, I know you – you don’t. You don’t do that anymore, you wouldn’t do that to me.”

“No he – he’s right,” Steve’s eyes reflect with sadness, the weight of his words lying deep in the pit of your stomach, “I have a reputation. We all know that. He’s trying to protect you, his heart is in the right place.” 

“But Steve-” 

“Eddie’s right, princess. There’s something there, I know it. But,” Steve sighs, shaking his head, “if this doesn’t work out I lose you and him. I can’t risk not having you both.” 

“Steve, will you listen to me, please?” You plead, clambering in a moment of panic to get off of the bed, sheet still wrapped firmly around your naked frame. You shuffle over ungracefully, until you’re standing toe to toe with him, “I like you. You felt it like I felt it. I– I want this.” 

You can almost see Steve’s internal struggle, the way his face crumples once he catches your teary eyes with his own devastated hues. His hands itch at his sides, and then suddenly those strong arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into his orbit and lifting you onto your tiptoes.

You wrap your arms around his middle, fingers grasping at the stretched material of his shirt, clinging on for dear life, "Steve, I really fucking like you, and I can't stand by and watch you walk away from this because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.” 

Steve’s chin rests atop your head, and you feel every bit of the deep sigh he lets out, “You trust me too much, like you know I’m not going to fuck up. I wish I could trust myself even half as much.”

Your reaction is immediate, frustration bubbling up inside of you as you listen to Steve talk down on himself, “You’ll never hurt me. You’re not some ticking time bomb just waiting to ruin everything. Allow yourself the courtesy of taking what you want and letting yourself fuck up. I’m strong enough to handle it.”

“I’ve messed up so many times in the past that I’m scared I’ll hurt you without meaning to,” Steve winces, clinging to you even tighter, cocooning you in his embrace, “I couldn’t live with myself if I did that shit.” 

You pull away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw, forcing him to face you and really soak in every word you say, “You’re fucking human, Steve. I’m not asking you to be perfect.”

Steve’s face etches with vulnerability, those damned eyes filled with hurt, but his body relaxes slightly, acknowledging what you’re trying to say, “You’re perfect.” 

Your stomach lurches, heart hammering where it sits beneath your ribcage, this pathetic grin taking over, “I promise you, I’m not. Wait until you realize just how many flaws I have — like being so terrible at cooking that I burn toast.”

Steve lets out a snort, eyes crinkling in the corners, fondness washing over him, “I’ll teach you,” he mumbles, leaning in a little, “if you’ll teach me something in return.” 

“Anything.” You breathe, pushing up to bridge the gap. Your noses brush, Steve’s hands gripping onto the soft flesh of your waist a little firmer.

Steve grins, mischievous, “Teach me how to have patience. I’ve been told it’s a virtue I’m seriously lacking, Dustin rags on me all the time about it.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating in an instant, "Patience it is, though I’m not sure how much of it I even have. And you better be ready for some burnt toast along the way."

Steve chuckles, a low, melodic sound that sends shivers down your spine, "I think I can handle that."

He bridges the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours and sealing the agreement.

[honeytonedhottie]

what i learned during my reflection period⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧖🏽‍♀️🎀

as you may or may not have noticed, i've been hiatus for most of the month now. and i disappeared because of personal reasons, and one of those reasons being that i felt i needed to reflect. here are some things that i've learned and realized during my reflection time.

this is quite personal to me, but i wanted to kind of have a heart to heart with you guys and im sure that someone is probably struggling with what i mention in this post so i hope this is comforting...💬🎀

WHY I FELT STUCK IN MY LOA JOURNEY ;

i was literally doing the most and it felt like such a chore at the time. i would force myself to affirm in ways that felt unnatural, i was letting myself get bullied by the 3D, even though i KNOW i dont have to do a thing. i was putting way too much effort in the wrong way.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i took a step back and RELAXED. i did what felt natural again and enjoyed manifesting again and because of that i've had success story after success story...💬🎀

DOING A SELF AUDIT ;

i wanted to take a second and expose toxic behaviors and patterns that i noticed i exhibit and that have started to affect not only my physical but my mental in a very very negative way.

i'd been struggling with regulating my emotions and managing them so i was a walking ball of stress 💀. a beautiful ball of stress but stress nonetheless. i just felt so stuck.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went through the motions and after having a total meltdown and doing a bit of journalling i released everything, giving myself a completely clean slate once more.

i did a bit of a refresh and did miscellaneous things to make myself feel like im starting again. things like self concept work, changing the theme of my phone, taking an everything shower + bubble bath, having a pinterest makeover and getting a trim on my hair.

i forced myself to drink more water, and go for long walks not only to get some sunlight but to get my heart pumping and push myself out of the depressive rot that i had been in for months internally, but had pushed itself out as soon as summer started.

THE DEATH OF A SITUATIONSHIP ;

i got really attached to this boy 😭 but he was such a piece of work. like he did that hot and cold shit, but i rly rly liked him so i ignored the obvious red flags. but i got to a point where i just felt used and embarrassed. upon further reflection i think i didn't wanna let him go because he was so fine 💀, like 6'5 muscular kind of fine.

no matter how handsome a guy is if he has an ugly personality or if he just treats u badly then hes not fine at all...💬🎀

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went no contact. thats like the easiest way to get over someone i think lol. i went no contact and i just manifested better things for myself. like being asked out by a bunch of guys and wingstop to comfort myself 🧋

also i focused on what i got out of the whole thing. i got the redirection that i wanted, PLUS i was filled with inspiration for my song writing.

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS ;

i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) - kali uchis

eternal sunshine - jhene aiko

let you go - clara la san

needy - ariana grande

AT THE END OF THE DAY ;

i wanted to include this section as a reminder that everyone goes through shit. things happen. its okay to be affected by it and its okay to be sad. the most important thing is to not dwell on it too long. remember that you are not a victim and remember how amazing you are BECAUSE YOU ARE. you are amazing and no matter what happens, regardless of anything your gonna be okay and your gonna be in a much better place, it starts with putting one foot in front of the other...💬🎀 (love honey)

[spacebarbarianweird]

Widower Astarion Headcanons

Ok, we wanted pain - I bring you pain. @astarionsbeloved @wickedwitchofthewilds @sleepykitty21 @starlight-ipomoea

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion isn't an idiot; he knows you are mortal, a topic you've discussed before.

Jokingly, he suggested you find a vampire lord, but even if one were found, Astarion would never allow you to turn into a vampire.

"It hurts, it's painful. The existence of a vampire is miserable. I will never do this to you."

The price of mortality is death.

You made him promise not to step into the sunlight and to keep living, carrying memories of you into the future.

You die as you always wanted: in a glorious battle, or safe and comfy in your bed, or brought home by Astarion to a place you grew up in.

You die with no regrets, sorrows, or complaints.

Astarion is numb; all the feelings he learned how to express are gone with your last breath.

He dissociates; it's not him, not now, not real—he is somewhere else.

He hides in the shadows, safe in the darkness and lonely.

Unfortunately, Astarion has never learned how to be alone; you never left him on his own for a long time.

He realizes he can't meditate; there is a mental block preventing him from doing so in your absence.

It's even worse since he can't give himself a break.

Eventually, some friends of yours give him a Potion of Angelic Slumber. He sleeps for a few days in a row, without dreams and nightmares.

When he wakes up, the first thing he does is look for you, and then he realizes you're gone.

In this moment, Astarion breaks down, crying and cursing in Elven and Common.

His back hurts as if there are flesh wounds; the cold grip of darkness holds his undead heart. The tears burn the crimson eyes.

He mourns, grieves, wishes to be dead, but the given promise and the innate desire to survive prevent him from going into the sun.

For the first few years, he lives as a hermit in your shared house, starving himself by not hunting and spending months on your side of the bed without moving at all.

It's not life; it's an existence, miserable and hopeless when he imagines you alive.

A wake-up call is sudden but almost divine.

Deep in his thoughts, he finds himself in his own grave in Baldur's Gate, seeing you six feet above him as young as you were back during the tadpole adventure.

"I didn't get you out of this grave to let you bury yourself. Come on, you promised to me to live! Then, live! This is my last gift."

He wakes up, starving and cold, goes up and leaves for hunting. He hunts for a few days, satiating himself with animal and sentient beings' blood.

As his mind returns to him, Astarion washes and repairs his clothes, brushes his hair, makes himself look decent.

He ravages through your things, collecting them carefully in one place. You wouldn't want a shrine, so he sells the things he won't be able to use anymore.

He puts on your wedding ring (now he has two identical rings) and also a necklace you always liked.

He re-sews one of your gowns into a shirt; now, it feels like you are still with him.

Astarion leaves his first forever home and starts his own journey, taking the role of a sole adventurer - a monster hunter, a protector of the weak. He has always had this heroic side in him, just never admitted.

The most difficult thing is to stay alone; people praise him for saving someone from a monster, but they fear mingling with a vampire.

Sometimes, Astarion cries in his tent, cursing the evil gods for taking the only good thing he ever had.

He constantly talks to himself, imagining you standing beside him.

He actually enjoys these one-sided monologues because he can pretend you are still here.

Years pass, memories of the happy life fade. Astarion joins groups of adventurers here and there but always feels off.

Eventually, he finds the strength to live up to his promise, to enjoy what he has.

He explores places he has never been to, does things he has never done, and hears stories he has never heard.

He makes friends, mostly among long-living creatures. "Oh, my young vampire friend! It's been a while!" A wizard elf greets him with open arms. "I am 400 years older than you, idiot," Astarion chuckles and returns a hug.

Most importantly, he preserves the memory about you, paying bards and storytellers, talking about you at campfires, and putting you as an example of kindness and bravery.

Once, Astarion hears a song, "The One Who Saved Baldur's Gate." The motive and words are nice, but the more he listens to it, the more in shock he is.

This song known to every decent bard in Swords Coast is about you, a distant memory, a long-forgotten story.

He has fulfilled your promise, made sure you live in people's hearts. This day is bittersweet; he cries his eyes out, listening to that song over and over again.

But he feels happy, the first time in years.

With decades to pass, Astarion creates the Blood Guild - a union of vampires and dhampirs who prefer to hunt monsters rather than be ones. They also keep an eye on other vampires who are a danger to mortals, especially those who make spawns and thralls out of innocent victims.

Having immortal undead friends feels nice; having friends who understand his issues, too.

He finds himself in the position of a mentor; vampires come to him for advice and emotional support.

Then he meets a person, a runaway spawn, angry with what happened to them, determined to do whatever it takes to break their chains. Astarion agrees to help; they constantly bicker about every single thing—views on life, personal experiences, shared interests.

This new person is annoying, obnoxious, brave, and lovable. Suddenly Astarion realizes he doesn't want to stay in his tent alone; he doesn't want to speak to himself anymore.

The long-forgotten feeling of loving someone aches in his undead heart, but now it's not his turn to confess.

"You know, I've been manipulating you into helping me. I am sorry. if you want, I will go away."

"You are a good person, Astarion. No one is like you. But you deserve honesty and something real."

Astarion smiles back and hugs this person.

This relationship is different; the runaway spawn is nothing like you, different in every way possible—personality, appearance, behavior, views on life, everything.

At first, there is profound guilt, as if he betrays your memory by having another romantic relationship.

They talk, sharing the darkest and saddest parts of their immortal lives—crimes they had to commit, lives they lost.

Eventually, Astarion tells them about you—how wonderful you were, how kind, how brave, how much you meant to him. His new love smiles and takes away a strand curl from his face.

"So, this is the person I must thank for you?".

He helps his new love to break the chains by killing the vampire lord.

Returning back, Astarion starts talking about the future.

Adventures? Of course! His partner is also a spawn, they need healing and freedom the same way he needed many years ago.

And then - who knows? Life is full of cruel wonders. Especially, for immortals.

--

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy

[jakesangel]

jake finding you crying - requested

it's usually at night, day finally over, that we can all finally settle down, n realize that we aren't that okay. and the same goes to you. life is though : too much drama in your school/work place, to much work to do, problèmes in your family and/ or your friends. things are too munch to bear and the only thing steady left in your life, your most needed person at the moment, your lovely jake. so you call him, not knowing what to do but you know his presence will soothe you down. that call would wake him up, him being an early bird, and would be a bit confused as to why you suddenly call him but hearing your sobs would wake him up right away. what's wrong, angel ? did something happened ?, he'd voice to you w nothing but worries. as you ask him to come over, he would already be getting ready, leaving the dorm in roar.

as he arrived, he would knock lots showing the panic filling his body, and as you open the door, he will immediately engulf you in his arms. my baby, i'm all here now, he would murmur, one hand softly stroking your hair, shhh, it's okay baby it's okay, he would add if you start to sob in his embrace. he wouldn't stop hugging you until you're the one leaving his embrace, even if you guys are in the hallway. do you wanna talk about it, angel or do you want comfort tonight ? he would ask you, taking your face in his hands, his eyes reading yours trying to convey you support and steadiness's in your shaky breath. as yous amswers, jake would kiss your forehead and/or your lips, okay whatever you want baby. i'm staying tonight yeah ?

if you want to talk about it, he would make you sit on your nearest surface, it could be the sofa or the bed or even the kitchen counter, and would then make you talk. he'd face you, eyes on your teary face, holding your hand, a small display of the immense support he has for you. just breath my angel, or you're safe here, are words spelled from him as you struggle to let your words out. and the second he sees your eyes waters, words too hard for your own mental health, he would drop your hand immediately to take you in his arms again,baby if it's too munch, you don't have to tell me right now, he'd shush you as his hand would smooth your back, you can cry all you want in my arms, i'll be here for you all night long. as you guys stay close to each other, he would keep comforting you, i know things can be too much right now baby, but everything will work out at the end i promise you. ill be here with you through out this journey as close or as far as you want me to be. but i want you to know, that no matter what you will not lose me. i'll forever be here for you, my y/n, he would say as he put your hair back in place, eyes searching for yours. remember that i love you my angel and that you are okay. keep thinking about those two fact, especially when you feel like it's too munch, okay baby ? he'd finally finish his face now right in front of yours, kissing your lips.

if you don't feel like talking, everything being too munch for your, he would hold you, your legs around his waist, walking the both of you to your bedroom. he would then place you on top of him, under the covers, your face prettily crying in the crock of your neck. he'd have one arm around your waist the other in your hair. from time to time he will, wipe your tears away, or kiss your hand on his chest. he would stay awake until you fall asleep of exhaustion. he wouldn't stop his shh during the whole cuddle session and would even hum or sing you a song. when he sees you asleep, he will then place you on the bed, so that the both of you have a more comfortable position to fall asleep to, him spooning you. good night my angel, he would say sadly before going himself to the arms of morpheus, kissing the top of your head.

notes : hai anon, here's your request >< tell me what you think in the inbox <3

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey

[milestonekestrel]

STILL WAKES THE DEEPERS COME GET YOUR DINNER!!!

[BODY HORROR AND FLASHING WARNING]

Thoughts under the cut (it gets lengthy)!

So.. we´re finally here huh? Took me a little over a week, but its done at last!

I´ll be honest, the idea first came to me when I listened to the song. I was brainrotting so bad on Still Wakes the Deep, I think I could´ve twisted anything into being about it haha. But this song actually fits it super well. ¨You lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane.¨ fits especially well with Caz, as everything that sort of grounds him on the rig during the shape infestation, the things that make him feel sane (mostly his friends) are all things he loses. In many cases, right in front of him. He also loses his family, as he realizes hes never going to get back to them, and, at the end, he loses himself too.

I tried to draw Caz´s hair progressively worse as his mental and physical state do. At his very best, particularly in the flashbacks at the end, his hair is shaped very specifically. But the more he goes through, the worse it gets, until at the very end where its just a tangled mess. Also his emotions, obviously towards the end he is still super emotional and stuff but I had hoped to sort of make it more...subdued? Maybe that´s not the right word, but he´s been through so much that his reactions aren´t as big to things, he doesn´t quite have the enough energy. He still Goes Through It with Finlay, but after that he´s giving you a constant 5000 yard stare. The, ¨I just watched every single one of my closest friends die in front of me¨ look.¨

Even when he gets to the derrick, he can only stare at the shape abyss.

He´s also in terrible physical condition and I tried to illustrate that with the scene of him standing up after Finlay dies. He is literally on his last legs, he is so, so tired.

also!! three flashy sequences in very quick succession at the end! do you know why? because Caz starts to See. The first, after Brodie dies, is a bunch of unique images about Caz. The people, things, and parts of himself that he is losing or has lost. Accompanied by other things, parts of himself, his life, etc.

There´s also these two images of Muir and Innes that I love very much.

The second one happens as he holds the lighter above the oil abyss! This ones just people he lost. And the third is everything that happened in the pmv flashing before his eyes. Because it is Quite a journey he has been on.

But you know why these flash? because Caz realizes that every step he is taking is one step closer to his death. Because he realizes that he is never going to get off the rig. because he realizes that he is going to die here. So hes thinking about Everything. His life, his family, friends, the horrors he went through, the things he lost and the things he will never, ever get back.

He also hallucinates Suze a lot in the pmv, but unlike in the game its not flashback sequences and she is not normal Suze. Until the end, when he´s reflecting on his life, its Suze With Tendrils!! Shape infected wife!!

and then at the end, she becomes more normal. Because he is flashing through the events of his life. also because he misses her, but he knows that by doing what he is doing, Shape Suze will never, ever exist. She will be safe.

I had a fun time drawing all the scenes in the pmv, but a select few are my favorite.

For example: The Beira D Bookends!

At the beginning and the end of the pmv, you get a full shot of the Beira D!

I like these scenes because I love having secret things like this. The bookends,,, ough do u guys get it they´re bookends... The Beira D is where it all takes place, in the game, and in the pmv. It is the first and last thing you see as Caz, and the first and last thing he sees in the 24 hours this takes place in. It is a very significant location, which is why it bookends the pmv.

Addair and Caz at the Stack:

Getting to animate this whole sequence was a blast. It´s my absolute favorite part of the game! Followed closely by the ending, but still my most favorite. I just think its a really cool part of the game, and it plays a lot into my Addair headcanons so!!! pretty sick!!

Caz´s Memories:

After he drops the lighter, Caz and his family are shown again. You can see him and Suze reconnecting (as well as the fact that I yoinked @inky-ash´s headcanon about them meeting up after he got punched in the face). He also plays with a young Cait. and drawing the hug between them just about made my eyes misty, because he really loves his family,,,, auuuughh,,,

also. the wedding photo.

I didnt really try with their outfits honestly, but I still really love how this came out. the wedding photo means so much to me...

The Lighter:

a little extra bit about the lighter. I drew when it was handed to Finlay, and when she handed it back to Caz. There´s no real scene parellells between these scenes, but I do really love them, and the whole fact that the Lighter was originally given to Finlay before she gave it back to Caz.

The Scene That Is Most Definitely Not A Reference:

Just kidding. it is.

The pose and composition is indeed a self-indulgent reference to the first artwork I made of Still Wakes The Deep!

Sinking:

The first time you see Caz in the pmv? He´s unconscious in the ocean, and sinking.

and the last time you see him? Unconcious, in an ocean, and sinking.

boy I sure do love parallels and things.

The Helmet:

at the very end, his helmet appears in the waves, before sinking below the surface. This is another self-indulgent little detail that serves as a nod to my headcanon!

I also just generally enjoyed drawing Caz and his facial expressions. That man means so much to me, so it was awesome to draw him so much!

also, I think its funny you can tell exactly when I figured out what the Cadal logo looks like, or that there even was a logo on the uniforms.

If you watched the pmv, or read this far, thank you so much!! This game means so much to me, and I´m so glad I could make this pmv. I love all the support this fandom has given me so far, so thank you! Thank you so much! Couldn´t have done this without such an awesome fandom <333

[epickiya722]

Rereading these three posts of mine...

Sukuna's Backstory

A Journey

A Conversation

I had a collective thought about them and...

What if not only what happens next is Yuji and Sukuna boarding a train (in Yuji's Domain) and sitting down and having a conversation (like maybe even a verbal fight on morals and their opposing beliefs), but also Yuji somehow has this train ride where they go through Sukuna's memories?

Like, this is when we get his backstory (Sukuna's) or at least some of it that is necessary for him to remember and realize that he, too, is human?

I'm sitting here and recalling how with Choso and Todo, they had those fake memories involving Yuji.

Todo pretty much had a human connection with Yuji and Choso later chose to live as a human for Yuji.

They conjured up fake backstories that made them feel human because of Yuji.

Sukuna is someone who looks down on humanity, he rejects being a human. In one of my posts, I mention how when he does bring up his past (which isn't often) he seems almost slightly dismissive. It's like he doesn't care to reminisce on the time he reigned as the strongest. But what if it's the memories before he doesn't want to remember? The time he was at his more human state?

I'm imagining that Yuji gets Sukuna on a train makes him him remember how he felt to be human, might even conjure up fake memories as his critical attacks on Sukuna.

Force him to break down as Sukuna did him before. Get Sukuna to feel vulnerable just by using his words.

Instead of using malevolent means like Sukuna, someone who enjoys a fight, Yuji goes about a benevolent route by not physically fighting. But mentally and spiritually with words.

[mysticbewitched]

Realizations: Consciousness & Awareness 

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

I’m going to try to make this post short and sweet.

Despite hearing these terms constantly being used interchangeably in the spiritual community, I have finally realized that consciousness and awareness are not the same at all.

I used to think they were the same and I blindly went along with everyone online who kept telling me they were when I first discovered nonduality.

After doing some deep reflection of my views, I found myself questioning the type of information that I’m constantly taking in from various sources.

As a member of a community dedicated to manifestation and spiritual awakening, I often found myself questioning if these two terms were actually the same. I had the same question playing in my mind repeatedly throughout the earlier stages of my spiritual journey. It just kept coming to me: 

“Is there a difference between consciousness and awareness? Am I consuming the right information from the nondualism community?”

It would not let up. I kept receiving the same guidance over and over from my inner Godself for me to: “question what you are told.” 

I stumbled deeper upon the teachings of a wise and knowledgable spiritual guru who taught the nature of nonduality. He perfectly explained the distinct difference between consciousness and awareness.

I want to share this important information with you because I want everyone to understand the fundamentals behind nonduality and manifestation.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

▪︎ What is the difference between consciousness and awareness?

Consciousness is an awake state of mind attached to your subjective sense of identification as an individual in the human experience, meanwhile awareness is the the pure, unconditioned nature of your true divine self as God.

Let me explain this further:

Consciousness is a changeful and partial attribute; a mind state of duality for subjective experiences due to your personal sense of self as an individual.

Your state of mind operates on a subjective perception with your identification as "an individual" attached to it. This identification stems from your own personal sense of self. This is your self-concept, who you view yourself to be.

For example, think: insecure victimhood mentality vs. the confident God state of mind which are two conpletely different states of consciousness.

One state of mind represents suffering, misery, self-doubt, and being a victim to "the circumstances of life", while the other represents a confident, blissful, spiritually awakened perception of one's divine power to create reality.

As you can see from my example: states of consciousness are able to change and adopt new identifications as you change your perception of yourself and your understanding of reality.

Consciousness is subjective and has an individual's sense of identification attached.

Your perception of yourself and who you believe yourself to be shapes your experiences in your world. It is entirely subjective.

This goes all the way back to the teaching of consciousness being the one and only reality.

Now: what is the one thing that remains the same as it operates through different and changing states of consciousness?: awareness.

No matter what state of consciousness you are operating and experiencing your world from, you are simply always aware throughout your experiences.

You are always aware of yourself and your experiences in this life. There is no other way around it. You can't ever escape from awareness.

Awareness remains regardless of your personal sense of perception/identity.

Awareness itself never changes: it is calm, silent, and remains the true divine nature of God itself.

Awareness is simply being aware and it is a purely objective experience of observing. Awareness is purely awareness. Being aware.

Awareness is what you truly are as the infinite, divine source of all creation. Awareness is the true self as God. Manifestation comes from your inner Godself as total, absolute awareness.

Awareness is the limitless creative source of power manifesting and shaping your entire reality through your dominant states of consciousness. 

Awareness completely transcends beyond all states of consciousness and it simply remains the same: absolute, pure, unconditioned awareness.

No matter what, awareness always remains the same. Silent, unconditioned, and changeless. 

Awareness is total, objective awareness.

Pure, unconditioned, silent awareness is the infinite and divine source of all creation.

Awareness just is. Awareness is awareness.

There can be no states of consciousness without the awareness of God seeing through the eyes of the observer, but there can be pure, total awareness without consciousness. 

This absolute awareness is famously known as "the void." This is the home of your true self.

Awareness is the divine creator of all.

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Now that we have cleared up the bullshit, I will end this post with some insightful quotes by Nisargadatta Maharaj.

"Consciousness is an attribute while awareness is not; one can be aware of being conscious, but not conscious of awareness. God is the totality of consciousness, but awareness is beyond all-being as well as not-being.” - Nisargadatta Maharaj

"Awareness is primordial; it is the original state. Beginning-less, endless, uncaused, unsupported, without parts, Without change. Consciousness is on contact, a reflection against a surface, a state of duality. There can be no consciousness without awareness, but there can be awareness without consciousness, as in deep sleep. Awareness is absolute, consciousness is relative to its content; consciousness is always of something..." - Nisargadatta Maharaj

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[ourflagmeansgayrights]

ok so like objectively yes ed did things wrong but not only do i personally feel no negative emotions about any of that, i swear it would make more sense tonally with the rest of the show to NOT make a huge chunk of s2 be about ed facing the consequences for and redeeming himself from the marooning/pushing lucius overboard/izzy toe thing. like if im wrong i’m wrong and it’s whatever but i really really think the focus will be more on ed’s internal emotional state and how his choices were informed by trauma and how he’s going to learn to heal more than it’s gonna be like, Ed Learns It’s Wrong To Maroon People And Force Feed People Their Own Toes. like if anything i think it’ll be Ed Learns That He Deserves To Be Happy And He Also Realizes That Marooning People And Force Feeding People Their Own Toes Is An Unhealthy Coping Skill That Negatively Affects His Mental Health And He Learns New, Healthier Coping Strategies. like i think the focus of coming out of the kraken era is going to be almost entirely on ed’s feelings, and any mention of how his actions harmed the rest of the cast will be brief and/or it’ll primarily be played for comedy

which yes irl this would kinda suck to have some guy respond to getting his heart broken (and other stuff) by killing and maiming people and then have his whole journey of self-discovery be solely abt him and not any of the people he’s hurt. HOWEVER a biiiiiig part of the humor of the show is that the characters are experiencing some very real and very relatable self-esteem issues and insecurities and vulnerabilities, and all of that is placed on a backdrop of comedically gratuitous pirate violence. like this is a romcom and ed is basically going through the classic emotional beats of the romcom heroine getting her heart broken and eating a whole tub of ice cream and crying in her room for days before becoming cold and distant and “love is dead” edgy, only the joke is that bc he’s a pirate his “love is dead” romcom era includes some people actually literally dying. izzy and the crew all just happen to be in the blast radius for this joke, and while we as fans might love and care abt those characters too, the plain fact is that ed and stede are the main characters and the other characters’s feelings or storylines or internal motivations simply do not matter nearly as much to the show as theirs (with the exception of maybe jim, and also maybe olu depending on how s2 goes). and that’s literally just how romcoms work. this sort of “protagonist bias” is like, a core part of this kind of story.

and there’s nothing wrong with not vibing with the story because of that. if season two comes and goes and you aren’t happy with how the show handled the consequences of ed’s actions in e10 that’s fine, nobody has to feel any specific way about this show. but if i’m right and this is how s2 plays out and some of y’all don’t like this, the problem is not that ofmd is bad. the problem is just that this is not the story you wanted or expected to be told.

i DO think, tho, that there’s something very powerful abt a character like this being a queer indigenous man. he’s a gay romcom protagonist and narratively speaking his feelings trump all. this is a queer romcom that uses gratuitous slapstick violence as a punchline and where the queer main characters are allowed to get violent and unhinged about their feelings, and at the end of the day they ultimately get a pass bc it’s a gay romcom and the show is about them. like literally that description itself is more than i could’ve ever dreamed of from any tv show ever, and THEN you’re telling me that one of the main characters is indigenous???? it’s been a year and a half and s2 is right around the corner and i swear to god i still can’t believe this show actually exists. we don’t GET shows like this, we don’t GET characters like this. ed teach is such a fucking blessing of a character and i love him with all my heart.

[fatfuckingcatstuff]

Babe.

Babe i need platonic reader with the mercs

Them reacting/helping reader get out of sh (Ignor if it makes you uncomfortable)

I just need some motivation to stop burning myself

Pick you fav mercs and maybe gn reader so more folks can enjoy

Luv your work btw <3

Of course you can! And I hope your recovery journey goes well! Sorry it this isn't exactly what you had hoped for but either way I hope you enjoy it.

Medic

- Medic is proud of you for seeking help. He noticed the bandages and, with genuine concern, asked if you wanted to talk. He knows how important it is to have someone listen.

- In his office, he listens without judgment as you open up about your struggles. Medic then suggests regular check-ins, encouraging you to reach out whenever you feel overwhelmed. "You are stronger than you realize, mein freund . There are other ways to cope like harming someone else other than yourself! Remember, my door is always open."

"Oh okay wow thanks medic."

"no worries mein freund :)"

- He offers resources like books on mental health and teaches you stress relief techniques. Medic even shares some basic medical knowledge, so you can better understand your body and how to care for it. He’s always there for you, providing unwavering support.

"Would you like me to help remove those thoughts of yours?"

"you are not going anywhere near my brain."

Spy

- Spy, ever observant, sees the subtle signs of your struggle. He'd brush it off aside during the day but find himself wanting a chat with you alone.

- He'd take you to his smoking room using this private moment to discuss serious matters. "Tell me ma fleur. What's on your mind?"

As you pour your heart out of your struggles and how you've been slowly trying to heal he listens with intent.

"Mon ami, we all have our demons. What matters is how we face them. You have the strength to overcome this, and I will be here to help you every step of the way."

- Spy keeps a watchful eye on you from a distance, ensuring you’re never alone in your vulnerable moments. He wants you to know you can always rely on him for support. Hell he'd start getting noticeably closer to you.

Demoman

- Demoman is proud of you for opening up. He brings it up casually, noticing your reluctance to show your arms. With genuine concern, he gently prods and listens.

"Aye I hear ye lassie/laddie"

- He shares his own struggles, making you feel less isolated and more understood. I feel as though he would occasionally offer a bottle or 2 of scrumpy to *help* in which you would always refuse but thank him.

- He regularly checks in on you, using humor and camaraderie to lighten your mood and make sure you’re doing alright.

"Ye know, we all got our battles. But ye don't have to fight 'em alone. Anytime ye feel down, just come find me. We'll have a laugh, aye?"

Pyro

They notice your distress through your body language and offer comfort without words. Pyro sits beside you, offering his toys and gadgets to play around with to distract your mind from the simple idea of harming yourself.

"Mmphhshs mpyymph mpthhh mthjs mppjdhh"

"Thank you pyro"

- They introduce you to creative activities like painting or building crafts, helping you channel your emotions into art. Pyro’s presence becomes a comforting constant.

- Pyro ensures you always have a safe space to retreat to, filled with comforting and familiar items to help ground you during tough times.

Sniper

- Sniper would be a little taken aback I feel. Sure he had noticed your change in behavior but he wasn't really expecting it.

- He invites you to his perch, sharing the tranquility of the outdoors. Sniper opens up about his own ways of dealing with isolation and stress, teaching you about the calming effects of nature. "It's alright, mate. Sometimes, getting out here and away from it all helps clear the mind. Whenever you need to talk or just want some company, you know where to find me."

- He takes you on walks, introducing you to nature therapy. Mundy would provide steady, reliable support, always there for late-night talks and his presence if you ever need him. He wants you to know you have someone who cares.

[luimagines]

I HAVE AN UNFINISHED STORY THING THAT I WANT TO SHARE!!!!!!!

(I haven’t worked out all the details yet so I’m just gonna give you the gist of it.)

The Chain are settled for the evening and hear screams in the forest and go investigate… there they find a pregnant reader (at least 6 months) about to be attacked by the shadow and its monsters. The Chain defeat the monsters and the shadow retreats. They patch up reader and try to ask questions as to why she was attacked. They don’t get much out of her, all reader can really say is-

“None of the townsfolk like me, but I don’t think anyone would want me dead.”

The Chain is wary of the situation but promise to protect reader for the night and escort her back home in the morning. Eventually during a very tasty dinner, the baby kicks and reader goes-

“You like it too, Link?”

While gazing lovingly at her belly and rubbing the spot where the baby kicked. The entire Chain immediately freeze. Time and Wars eventually snap out of the shock and start to ask questions.

“Your baby’s name is Link?”

“Yes.”

“Is he named after the father?”

Reader scoffs. “No. I don’t wish my child to have anything in common with that bastard.”

“What made you want to name him Link?”

“It came to me in a dream.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

Reader gets a bit sheepish. “Well… I don’t. But in my dreams I always see a boy. However, I do have a name in case he turns out to be a she. Lana. Pretty, right?”

(Cue Wars getting PTSD flashbacks. MOVING ON!!!)

Similar questions continue until reader gets fed up and is like-

“Ok, what’s going on? Why are you all so interested in me and my child?”

The Chain just looks among each other as they’re unsure of what to tell reader as they’ve just met and she’s already been attacked tonight so her mental state probably isn’t the best. Legend just goes-

“Are you positive you’ve never seen the shadow or anything like it before?”

Reader hesitates for a moment before answering. The Chain notices and pushes her on it. They eventually convince her to tell them.

“Well… not all the dreams I have about my child are good. Actually, most of them are terrible nightmares.”

“Can you tell us what happens in these nightmares?”

Reader sighs. “Truthfully, it’s just one repeating nightmare. I wake up in what appears to be a castle or something similar and I’m covered in blood. I hear a baby crying and I rush to the sound as fast as I can, I end up in a circular room and on the other side of it… there’s a black figure with red eyes holding my sleeping baby and grinning at me. Before I can get close to my baby, a horrible stabbing pain rips through my chest… and then I wake up.”

So yeah, the Chain realize that reader is carrying this era’s hero of courage. They decide to take reader with them to keep her and the baby safe from the shadow. It’s a big adjustment for everyone involved… The Chain have to learn how to continue their adventure with a pregnant lady they have to care for while reader has to learn how to maneuver life traveling with all these men on a dangerous journey.

Probable questions with answers.

Q. Why don’t the townsfolk like reader?

A. Because she got pregnant with the Mayor’s son’s child… out of wedlock.

Q. Why did they ask if the baby was named after the father?

A. They were hoping that the hero of that era was already an adult and had finished his adventure so the baby was in no danger of carrying the fate attached to their shared name.

Q. Why does reader hate the father?

A. Because they got trapped in a huge snowstorm together and had no choice but to use “survival 101” to survive… He pressured her into doing the dirty. When she told him she was with child, he wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. He told everyone she was a harlot and had practically forced herself on him to save his reputation. Since he was the mayor’s son and well liked while she was just a simple huntress who kept to herself… everyone believed him.

Q. Why does reader have these dreams?

A. They’re warnings. Something or someone is trying to tell her of the dangerous future that lays before her.

Q. Is this a platonic story or a romantic one?

A. Um… I actually don’t know. The story has shifted between the two a few times since its creation. Romance is a bit weird in this context as reader is the mother of this era’s hero but there is absolutely no blood relation to any of the other heroes (bombastic side eye to Time and Twilight.) so it is still possible. However, the romance route the story takes is mostly with Warriors whenever it does shift that way. I’m not sure why, but that’s just how it flows.

That’s it! At least for now. Any thoughts or comments? Anything you’d like to add? Any ideas you’d like to share?I really adore your writing so anything you have to say would be greatly welcomed!!! Any and all feedback is appreciated. 😊

OOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!!

CONSIDER ME HYPED!!!

I feel like I should have a lot to say but there's so much potential that I'm sure what's the direction you want to take it.

I know that it's not necessarily said in the Zelda universe, but what if Reader was a descendant of Sky and related to the "royal family". Not the mayor's family. Reader can easily be from a kingdom outside of Hyrule. But like a long lost cousin twice removed or something to the Queen of Hyrule. That way the dreams would be less like warning and more on the prophetic dream thing.

Whether Sky delves into this, of it becomes tied into Reader's relationship with the official royal family of Family can be talked about later.

I also wanted to say that romance isn't inherently a bad thing to add. If it's leaning towards Warrior whenever it comes into the mix, then I say lean into it. Granted, I'm a sucker for romance and I know it's not needed for a good story. But if the dynamic between the character lends itself naturally to it, then let the characters lead. :)

I would give more notes but I would need to know more with where you're going with it. (Thank you for the Q and A at the end. I loved it. It helped a lot. XD)

[rufflekerfuffle]

Open to read my misfits and magic takes

I cannot believe K killed Evan but also I can cause they go too far trying to “fix” him constantly without really seeing how that might affect him.

Like Evan’s gotta feel a little weird about how concerned Sam is for him and how Jammer has been so so gentle with him and then K attempting to fix him since they met up at the islands.

It just feels like they care so much and want him to be better in a way they can help. Which is sweet and what you do when the people you love are hurt - but Evan knows he is the odd one out again. The one that people have to be concerned about, the one that needs extra attention. Sometimes I feel like you need that when you’ve been hurt and gone through awful things but other times you just want to be treated normal.

I feel like maybe Jammer is the only one who does that for Evan but Jammer’s the one who took the biggest step away from magic and therefore Evan. So he never really had a place or felt like he could be anywhere without troubles arising, and the group of friends that did help him left. The guy he could be a normal guy around went back to America. K doesn’t seem to really talk to him at all since they stopped dating. And Sam is very concerned for him every time he talks about his life. Seems like when I try to talk about experiences I had growing up and everyone stops and goes “are you okay?! That is not normal!” Which I can tell you it doesn’t feel good to have that happen every time you talk about yourself!

I’m relating Evan a little too hard to my own abuse survivor/mental health journey probably lol but he’s a fictional character so I think I’m allowed to do that.

Lou and Danelle are awesome actors I was crying when they were realizing Evan died and doing anything to get him back. Also Erika played shocked really well. Thanks to Brennan and Aabria for making this character and putting him in situations. I love dimension 20 and misfits and magic.

[boilbluedenim]

Over the liminal mindscape

I love and hate how this show's ending is completely left up to interpretation, mainly because of Wirt and Greg's potential deaths and how that makes me feel about the show as a whole. It attaches a sort of bittersweet feeling to it which I'm not too sure about. more on that soon though.

Anyway, when paying even just an inkling of attention to this show, you can almost immediately connect the dots and come to the conclusion that none of the adventures (for the most part) actually happened. This conclusion is heavily drawn from the frames we see at the very beginning, of Wirt, Greg, and Jason Funderburker (the frog) drowning. (ep 1)

and from the frames where Wirt wakes up in the water after having said goodbye to Beatrice, saving his brother and the frog by carrying them both out of the water. (ep 10)

Taking into account that Wirt, Greg, and Funderburker all fell into the water moments before almost getting hit by a train, which we discover in episode 9; Into The Unknown, I think it's pretty safe to assume that this is, in fact, the case and that OTGW takes place in either a mental space or a physical limbo, occurring while they are all in the process of drowning.

Another thing I'd like to mention is that OTGW is heavily based off of Dante's Inferno, which, in the simplest of summaries, is a poem about a journey that begins in a forest, leads through hell, and eventually into heaven, hence the theorized death I mentioned earlier. It's actually pretty easy to spot where these references and homages lie, for example, the formula of the story is somewhat similar, and the characters take on similar roles. (for example, Virgil: Beatrice/Woodsman(?)or even Greg in some cases, Beatrice: Sara, Dante: Wirt.) (please read Inferno or a summary of it to fully understand this if you haven't already because it's actually really interesting).

Rewatching OTGW with this in mind led me to realize a lot of things that I originally passed off as unique writing choices with no actual meaning behind them. Then again that could be the case but what's the fun in assuming that?

Upon entering the unknown, we're launched into a universe with a seemingly ever-changing time period. Characters talk funny and fancy, dress and act as if they're from the 1600s-1700s, and none of our protagonists seem particularly fazed by this (except for Beatrice, occasionally) with Greg using a phrase such as "brother o'mine" and Wirt's dramatic poetic rambles. Everything feels very inspired while also being all over the place, almost as if it's been composed from memories, lying in the pits of somebody's mind...

Wirt is a Huge Nerd.

If I am to believe that this show takes place in one of our protagonists' minds, which I do in fact believe, then I would say that that protagonist has to be Wirt. Wirt has a tendency to go on poetic spiels, even dropping two of them in the very first episode. Accompanied by his teenage boy dread (being a nerd at 14 is tough) and his overextending knowledge about curious things, which he showcases in his exclaim at Beatrice's ability to talk and his comment about one of the rooms in Endicott's mansion (below), It becomes a glaring possibility that OTGW is primarily from Wirt's point of view, with the Unknown existing solely in his head.

I've actually seen this point argued before, with some people mentioning the black turtles on the poster in Wirt's room or just his entire room in general. However, if true, that doesn't really answer the question of whether the unknown exists as a physical space or a mental one, having no supernatural effects on the real world.

2. The Implications of the Bell

Okay, so, listen.

I hate to be the kind of person who goes "Well it's probably just a fun and silly bit that doesn't actually mean anything." but I'm gonna be that person anyway, or at least I'm not going to assume character death because I don't want to and free will is a thing blablablabla. I will however be serious for a second and try to provide a tangible reason for why I think this scene doesn't have any real-world implications.

For one, this scene immediately jumpcuts to a voiceover, followed by scenes that serve as conclusions for the stories of the characters we've met along the way, all of them being positive. I think this serves the purpose of letting us know the story did in fact have a good ending, with Wirt learning how to treat his brother with respect. I also think that ties into the theory above.

Not only does the unknown serve as a mental limbo but it also serves as a lesson for Wirt in particular. This journey is riddled with self-critique, characterized as Beatrice, all the while Wirt is drowning and realizing he's not only failed himself but his brother as well.

3. The Beast

Surprisingly I haven't mentioned the beast yet even though he's very important to the story. The beast represents a couple of things, one being death and two being the overarching, real-world problem. Those may sound like the same thing, and honestly, they are depending on what you think the problem is. To me, it's Wirt's relationship with, and treatment of Greg in the real world that bleeds into the universe of the unknown.

The exchange that Wirt has with the beast at the end of episode 10 fully encapsulates his character growth. The characters his mind has created have actually taught him something, that being; wallowing in sorrow and accepting your fate is just going to lead you further down this winding path, or in this case, to the bottom of this lake. You will never get home.

Unlike I've seen others suggest, this is not a story of a boy failing and dying while so wrapped up in his own fantasy, eventually residing in a false heaven. Instead, everything is put back where it needs to be.

From the forest, through the unknown, and finally, back home.

[bbobpul]

solemn ceremony — yjh

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x reader SUMMARY. y/n, who was in a six-year relationship with jeonghan, has been attending so many weddings of her friends because they are already at that age to settle down. she starts to feel the pressure because in those six years, not once did jeonghan ever hint about wanting to settle down with her. GENRE. angst W/C. 1.8k NOTE. i miss you jeonghan (⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠→ my other works

'it's okay to outgrow those who don't know how to love you,' says bianca sparacino, and this has been the driving concept of every aspect of my existence. it's what i've committed to all my life. i've navigated this world using the catching and releasing mentality. i've felt the pain of losing friends, the missed opportunities, and the irreversible loss of precious time. yet, in all my years, i could never bear the notion of losing you.

i know deep inside me that it wasn’t easy.. but i did it. i outgrew you.

five years ago…

so, there i was, amidst the whirlwind of vows and joyful dances, attending my fourth wedding of the year. you know how it goes—happy times, smiling faces, and love all around. but within that sea of celebration, there was always this lingering question, like a bittersweet voice tugging at my heartstrings: "when will it be your turn?" or "has jeonghan popped the question yet?" those inquiries had a way of leaving me lost in a haze of uncertainty, carrying the weight of unfulfilled desires.

jeonghan and i, we've been on this rollercoaster of love for six whole years. it all started when fate brought us together on a construction project. can you believe it? both of us are architects, drawn to each other by our shared passion. it was during that time, though, that i was going through something tough—a deep loss that weighed heavily on my soul.

in those moments of solitude, i longed for someone to share my victories, to lighten the load of my accomplishments. it's like i was missing a missing piece in the puzzle of life, you know? but then, like a beam of light piercing through the darkness, jeonghan came into my life.

at first, i thought he'd be like the others—a temporary presence who'd leave once the project was done, fading into the background like a distant memory. but boy, was i wrong. he stayed. he became that person i could share my successes with, the one i'd call up at the end of a tiring day, just to share a moment. can you imagine? someone who truly understood and embraced all that i was.

yet, amidst the laughter we shared and the whispered secrets we kept, there's this lingering realization that the world out there doesn't quite get it. people with their curious glances and probing questions, they can't fully grasp the depth of our connection. behind closed doors, doubts flicker like fragile candle flames, casting shadows on the very foundation of our love. the big question looms over us: will jeonghan be the one to take that leap, to bind our hearts in matrimony, or will our love forever remain a fleeting masterpiece, admired but never truly possessed?

as i witness another union of souls, this subtle sadness washes over me, like a gust of wind blowing through abandoned corridors. i try to find solace in the fact that even without the grand ceremony and vows, jeonghan has become an integral part of my journey—a rock of strength amidst all the uncertainties. but deep down, i can't help but wonder if our love story will forever be suspended in the realm of what-ifs, an unfinished symphony waiting for its final crescendo.

the first crack on the glass

“your mom kept asking me earlier..” i started

jeonghan turned his gaze away from me, his eyes devoid of curiosity. “about what?” he asked, his voice void of any tenderness.

“about us, and marriage.”

his lack of interest cut through me like a knife, piercing my heart with its cold indifference. “hmm, and what did you say?” he inquired, still refusing to meet my gaze.

“i couldn’t say anything, and then she just laughed it off.”

“why?” he asked, still not looking at me.

silence hung heavily between us, suffocating the room with its weight. i mustered a faint smile, desperately trying to find the right words to bridge the growing chasm. slowly, i reached out for his hand—the hand that had held mine during moments of overwhelming loneliness, the hand that had offered solace in the face of my turbulent emotions. at the same time, i tried to lock eyes with him, to seek solace in the same loving gaze that had always made me feel seen and cherished. but tonight, those hands slipped away as he abruptly stood up and made his way to the kitchen. and those eyes, the ones that once held so much love and adoration for me, now seemed to avoid my searching gaze.

a sharp pang pierced my chest, a bittersweet ache that defied reason. i knew deep down that my feelings were irrational, almost childlike, but the weight of our six years together suddenly flooded my senses. memories, both joyful and painful, surged through my mind, each one carrying a sting of sorrow. six years of shared dreams, laughter, and companionship now felt like distant echoes, fading into a sea of uncertainty.

in that moment, the realization washed over me like a crashing wave—i could no longer deny the unsettling truth that we were no longer on the same page. our paths, once so beautifully intertwined, now seemed to diverge, leaving me adrift in a sea of questions and unspoken longing.

but i still tried to speak.

"why?" i confronted him, the raw anguish in my voice unable to be contained any longer. "you know damn well why. we've spent six long years together, and not once have you hinted at wanting to marry me. two years ago, when you said you weren't ready, i respected your decision. but now, we're in our thirties, for god's sake! everyone around us is settling down, starting families, and here we are, stuck in this limbo. what's the problem now? is it because of your job? jeonghan, we work in the same place, we have the same damn schedule. so tell me, what the hell is the matter?"

an uncomfortable stillness settled upon them as the weight of my words hung heavy in the air, smothering the room and freezing our souls. the unspoken truth, full of uncertainty and unfulfilled expectations, left a wide hole between us, a canyon filled with shattered dreams and unspoken wants. we stood in that deafening silence, two souls entwined yet miles away, our hearts throbbing with the unspoken knowledge that perhaps our paths had diverged, and the future we had once imagined together now stood on the verge of irreparable split.

for the first time that night, jeonghan's gaze shifted towards me. his eyes, once filled with warmth and affection, now carried a haunting emptiness, devoid of any flicker of emotion. a feeble smile graced his lips, but it held an underlying sadness that tugged at my heartstrings. with each step he took, drawing nearer to me, i could sense the hesitance etching its way across his face.

"we will get there soon, i promise," he whispered, his voice laden with a profound melancholy. his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken uncertainties. and then, with a trembling confession, he continued, "i... i love you, jo"

the weight of those three words engulfed the room, casting a shadow upon our fragile connection. it was as if the admission carried a burden, a burden that threatened to drown us in a sea of unanswered questions. in that fragile moment, it became painfully clear that our love, once vibrant and resolute, now teetered on the precipice of uncertainty. how could you claim to love someone if you couldn't even see the pain they felt, their subtle unraveling? my face was pale, but you refused to recognise the sickness that had engulfed both of us. the pain was intense, like an open wound, but you chose to ignore our mutual agony.

"you don't love me, han. you just want me here because i'm the only constant in your life besides your job. if you truly loved me, you would understand me as deeply as i understand you after these six long years. with you, jeonghan, my future remains uncertain. i yearn for stability, for the comfort of settling down. i won't compel you to embark on this journey with me, but remember, you cannot coerce me into staying either."

"i love you but you're losing me, han."

present time

thus, it was at that moment that i brought our six-year bond to an end, unveiling the cruel essence of existence—where we are destined to entangle ourselves only to untangle, time and again. i ended it way before the glass broke. we stumble upon unforeseen souls in this voyage, while losing the one we had envisioned eternally. however, let us not believe that life ceases to exist in those instances. it is, in fact, perfectly acceptable to outgrow those who are unaware of the art of loving you, even though, in this instance, he did love me. alas, his love fell short, incapable of constructing an everlasting sanctuary for me.

once again, i find myself standing at the threshold of yet another solemn ceremony—a retaking of vows by someone who holds a special place in my heart. for the past five years, i had forsaken numerous significant milestones in my own life, choosing instead to embark on a journey to greece, consumed by the demands of my career. yet, in this very moment, the individual who extended this invitation holds immeasurable value, surpassing any sentimental card that would reach their hands a mere week after the celebration.

as the minutes crawled by, we remained suspended in anticipation, longing for the commencement of the main event. in that restless moment, a familiar aura engulfed me as someone settled into the vacant seat beside me. to my amazement, it was the very person who had discovered me in the depths of my wanderings, the one who never coerced me out of my secluded refuge. instead, they held a torch aloft, fearlessly delving into the abyss to find me. it was the person with whom i had once woven dreams of everlasting togetherness. it was none other than yoon jeonghan.

"hey," he greeted me with a smile, "how are you?"

"good, life has been treating me very well these past few weeks, you?"

"yeah, you know, nothing has changed. my life is still all about work," he attempted to laugh, although the palpable tension lingered between us. everyone present at the event appeared preoccupied with their own affairs, yet i couldn't help but sense that many were well acquainted with our shared history. thankfully, they seemed content to focus on their own matters, respecting the boundaries of our past.

i observed how his gaze subtly gravitated towards my hand, resting on the table, particularly fixating on my ring finger.

"married?" he asked

"oh, no, no." i shook my head, "not yet."

[lordystrange]

So let me get this straight (pun intended)

In season 1 Mike meets El in the woods. We’ve been shown other people mistaking her as a boy first, but there’s no way Mike did that. He took her home because it was love at first sight, not because he’s a caring human being and she was alone in the dark woods wearing nothing but a t-shirt in the rain.

Then he makes a plan to get his mother to deal with this in the morning. To send her back to the Pennhurst (which we now know to be a mental hospital), because it was love at first sight?

But then when he finds out she has these cool powers, he realizes she could help finding Will and he decides to keep her. Because it was love at first sight?

Then they have a few moments of understanding and a few moments of lying and fighting and it affects everyone in the party and Lucas makes the marriage comment and then the comment about Mike only liking El because she isn’t repulsed by him like most girls are. But only the marriage comment counts because it was love at first sight?

And then a few days after meeting her, right after discussing how Nancy could be El’s new sister and El asking if Mike would like her brother, Mike decides that’s the right moment to kiss her. Because it was love at first sight? And then she disappears.

Then in season 2 we see El calling for Mike in the UD. A situation parallelled to other ships like Jancy and Lumax and Byler, but unlike with those ships, the other one is not there for her. El finds her own way out with no Mike around. Because it was love at first sight?

And we saw in s1 how Mike only heard someone breathing through the radio, and even though he just saw Will’s dead body, he believed it was him and kept looking for him. But in s2 we see how Mike actually briefly sees El for a couple times and he tells Will about it, but he still doesn’t go looking for her. Even though we see him holding on to hope that she’s alive, calling for her on the radio, he doesn’t go looking for her. Because it was love at first sight?

And they are separated for almost entire season and they finally meet, Mike spends like two seconds with her and then starts raging at Hopper. Because this was not about him feeling guilty about El’s self sacrifice but instead about him being in love with her. Because it was love at first sight?

And then in season 3 they have suddenly been together like 6 months. And we didn’t get to see their journey because why would we wanna see the main couple’s first moments in a serious romantic relationship. Because it was love at first sight?

And they have been written to be this annoying couple who only make out and ignore their friends all the time. And they they have stupid, comedic fights and a break-up. And we’ve told how in these situations the boy soon comes crawling back begging for forgiveness and we do see that happening but not to El. And we also see how El doesn’t know what she likes and how Max teaches her that there’s more to life than stupid boys. Why? Because it was love at first sight?

And then shit goes down and then we have a 3 months long time skip and then suddenly El says ily to Mike and kisses him and he doesn’t kiss back but now they are back together. With no build-up to it. Because it was love at first sight?

And in season 4 we learn that Mike hasn’t been able to even write ily back to El. We learn that El wants to pretend like she’s popular to Mike because she’s insicure, and Mike tries to pretend like he’s not a nerd to El because he’s insicure. And there are fights between Mike and El because of Mike and El’s relationship AND between Mike and Will because of Mike and El’s relationship. And we keep seeing scenes with this love triangle and Mike and El’s relationship not working because they don’t understand each other. Because it was love at first sight?

And they get separated again but instead of showing us them doing some growing together or at least towards one another, we see El growing independent and Mike growing apart. Until they meet again with no kiss and clearly still not on the same page. And soon shit goes down again and we need Mike to say ily to El because that’s the only way this girl could have strength to save her bestie. Because it was love at first sight?

And then we see the monologue that’s disappointingly vague and the ilys aren’t working and Mike is pushed to do it by Will and he uses same words as Will and Eddie and he tells her it was love at first sight and we are supposed to believe him. And it doesn’t save the world, not even Max, but we are still supposed to believe him. Why?

Is this really supposed to be the main ship? The groundbreaking love story? Something unique and never-been-done-before? (Can’t argue with that tho…)

I don’t understand why people love them. Why do people love them?

Mileven shippers often say that Byler shippers only ship Byler because it’s a gay ship…

I wonder where that argument comes from. Is it possibly rooted in them only shipping Mileven because it is a straight ship?