#he’s like 500 srsly

[wormees]

that one really popular art (idk if its ai or not) of Rhys makes him look like he owns an iPhone pro in the color black. why does every fanart give these characters iphone face.

[butteronabun]

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN Diluc would let you download games on his phone to save space on yours. He would also let you borrow his formal shirts if you ever need one for any occasion.

"If you two are close," my friend once speculated, "he'd most likely lean towards you when sitting next to you. Like so. Chin in his palm, elbow on the armrest of the chair and slightly leaning to your side." And she continued on another day, "He would absentmindedly play with your hand if you were rambling to him about something. Probably the structure of your nails, if you had any veins or freckles, what your palms look like, if you have any scars." And he probably has a natural scent. Probably something woody or earthy, but it can also be linked to wine. I COULD GO ON AND ON ABOUT HCS WITH THIS MAN >:(

AGAJDHKSJSKDHJD GOING INSANE AS I TYPE THIS AAAAKJDKSKS

bestie. where have you been all my life. i am devouring every hc you’ve just sent me because GOSHHHH !!! WHO ARE YOU ?!? PLS GO ON AND ON AND ON

“Diluc would let you download games on his phone to save space on yours” FIRST AND FOREMOST THIS SRSLY HIT ME LIKE A COMET ??? this line made me keel over because as someone who’s very conscious abt my phone’s storage ( i take so many pictures LMFAO and it’s so frustrating to delete some stuff just for more room )

and don’t get me even started with diluc’s phone agdjhdksjkdj i hc that he always has the latest iPhone, and it’s also the most expensive one?? the one with 500+ gb?? my gods ofc he’ll let you download games on his phone. he doesn’t really mind it! more excuses to see you, then, if you need his phone so much. all he needs is to see your face whenever you smile or gush over the games you’re playing !! ( and i doubt he uses it often anyway, minus the fact that it’s a device that allows him to get closer to you !! because he enjoys your messages and phone calls with him c: )

“He would also let you borrow his formal shirts if you ever need one for any occasion” HOW KIND OF HIM AAAAAAAA !!!!! ?? it’s already a given that this man surely has a huge built-in closet since he’s rich as hell - and to have the privilege to wear some of his, for example, zegna suits??

it’s so big on you it makes you blush. because hello??? this is diluc’s clothing. diluc’s clothing!!! imagine if this also ensued while pining.

the flustered reader burying their face on diluc’s shirt.jpg

( “This probably costs more than my life,” You tell him, a bit shy at the suit he handed you. “I’m so sorry if I’ll somehow get this dirty throughout the night. I’ll try to be careful!”

“No need to fret over trivial matters,” Diluc reassures you with a soft smile. “Feel free to mess it up however you like. I don’t really mind.”

You tease him, “Because you have other suits?”

He shakes his head. “No.” He adjusts your collar. He doesn’t say anything after that. )

you’re not so slick mr ragnvindr just admit you like seeing the reader wearing your clothing

AND oh my god….diluc being so close… him giving your full attention…….. while you talk …. and then absentmindedly playing with your hand… what if he was massaging it… rubbing his thumbs all over just to soothe you as you vent to him your troubles 😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭UUUUE😭🥺💧🥺😭 ue 💧ee😭🥺💧ue 🥺e e e😭. e 💧🥺😭Uueuuue. 💧 😭🥺ee e🥺🥺😭eUEE 💧

feel free to send more …. this temporarily rid of my troubles in life 🛐🛐🛐 you & your friend are absolute angels who saved me / lh

[jcbbby]

Oh no, it's 25th already! I'm gonna jump into the last wagon of this party, because you are this good a writer (srsly) and you bring me a lot of joy, and because I am absolutely fucking shameless. (Also I've never congatulated you on the milestone, so here's congratulations! <3)

The third prompt: 🍎 Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

omg stop, you're too sweet!!! thank you so much, I'll CRY :') anyway, for this very last follower party prompt, there is no plot here. literally none. we jump right into it, it's just straight filth. it's short, but we're ending the 500 follower party with a bang (get it? hehe...) - "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS TURN AROUND, gender neutral!reader, blow job, mutual masturbation. note: sorry for any mistakes, or if this just straight up sucks. my husband kept trying to talk to me as I was writing this and it was very distracting lol. -

Jace pulled you flush against him, lips pressing into yours forcefully; possessively. So many feelings of lust and desire finally coming to the surface. After weeks of lingering glances, just barely touching thighs or hands, and a handful of late night thoughts that made your head spin, you were finally alone with Jace in his room, with his hands all over you.

You pulled away, stroking his cheek as you looked to him with hooded eyes. "Did you say if I wanted you to take your clothes off, I should have just asked? Well, I'm not asking...I'm begging." You whispered the last words of your sentence.

He let out a gruff chuckle, taking a couple steps backward as he began undoing his belt. You followed, dropping to your knees in front of him, awaiting eagerly. He smirked as he slid his jeans down, the bulge just under the thin fabric of his tight boxers. You reached up, tugging at the waistband, sliding them down slowly. His harden length sprung out to attention over the band as you marveled.

"Like what you see?" He smirked, looking down at you.

You nodded. "I do...I..." You delivered a few kitten licks to his tip. "Really, really do..."

You licked a stripe on the underside of his cock, drawing a deep sigh from him. As you licked a second time, when you reached the tip again, you took all of him in your mouth. His hands immediately found their way through your hair, his head rolling backward.

"Shit, baby...yeah, that's it...like that..." He said through heavy breath.

He looked down at you, as your mouth slid back and forth around him. His hands gripped the back of your head, as he rocked his hips forward. You gagged around him slightly, but kept on working. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the two of you. He smirked, watching himself fuck your mouth.

"Hey, hey, stand up." He growled.

You pulled away, looking up at him in confusion. He placed a finger under your chin, bringing you up to his face. Using the same finger, he directed your head towards the mirror, smirking wickedly at you in the reflection. You grinned back at him as he started undoing the button on your jeans, sliding them down your thighs along with your underwear in one pull. He took his own cock in his hand, pumping himself.

"Touch yourself...I want to watch you play with yourself." He whispered in your ear.

You smirked while you watched his face, fixated just under your hips, as you slowly brought your hand down to your heat. You palmed yourself a few times before getting to work on yourself. He hummed in your ear as you touched yourself. Your eyes bounced from your own hand, to his, then up to his face. He let out a moan, dipping his head down into the crook of your neck, suckling and nibbling into you.

"Oh, fuck...Jace..." You started moving faster on yourself.

"Mmm...Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He reached his free hand around, resting it on yours as you pleasured yourself. "I think it's you."

You leaned back into his chest, rolling your head onto his shoulder, feeling the pressure build in your stomach. You both echoed each other's moans, writhing together as you worked yourselves to your releases against one another.

"Baby, fuck...I'm getting close...god, you're so sexy..." Jace grunted.

"Me too...shit..." You panted. "Keep going...cum watching me cum...fuck!"

Your legs started to buckle as you felt the wave crash over you. Your release coating your hand as you kept it moving, shouting obscenities and Jace's name. Within seconds, you watched as Jace's face contorted, his head coming to rest against yours as you felt his body shake, his warm, sticky seed hitting your leg.

You breathed against each other as you both came down, with Jace planting delicate kisses to your collar bone. You smiled lightly as he pressed his lips to your flesh. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at you in the reflection.

"Well...I think we're read for the bed now, don't you?" He winked.

You smirked back at him, whipping around to meet him face to face as you started pushing him backwards to the bed.

[isychiaa]

i know that people joke a lot about reading comprehension being low in the modern day, but srsly THERE IS A LARGE CHUNK OF PEOPLE THAT HAVE UNDERDEVELOPED CRITICAL READING SKILLS AND THAT'S REALLY CONCERNING!!!!!!!!!!

"oh that character is morally bad because they did something Wrong one time/a bunch of times, they are a Bad Person and there is no point in interrogating their fictional actions within the setting of this peice of media"

"oh i'm going to hyperfixate on a single statement made by this user without considering the context in which that statement was framed"

"oh i disagree with this person based on the first sentence of their post, i'm not going to spend the time reading the rest of their post to understand exactly what it is i disagree with, i'm just going to send a death threat"

I am very concerned about the ramifications of this lack of critical reading skills. Not only because it causes needless internet slap fights, but because it has real world impact: there is an atmosphere on the internet currently in which you CANNOT have a nuanced opinion. You either wholeheartedly agree with the surface message of a piece of media, or you disagree entirely. If there is a book about a serial killer and you like the manner in which the author presents the serial killer as a protagonist because it provides an insight into the perspective of someone who otherwise would not be afforded any consideration or empathy, you are a Bad Bad Person because you are endorsing the murders of all victims across the world.

Which is demonstrably untrue.

This lack of reading comprehension and contextual understanding means that large swathes of literature are labelled as "problematic" and immediately discarded. Now clearly there is a variety of literature that does not align with modern values, but without evaluating that work critically, how can you understand your own views?

Let's look at a very mild example: Emma by Jane Austen. This book features an age-gap relationship between the titular character and Mr Knightly, in which Emma is 21 years old and Mr Knightley, 37 years old. I'm sure many people nowadays would be suspicious of this kind of age gap and rightly so, as it doesn't align with a western cultural understanding of what a healthy, equal relationship appears as. But to turn your nose up at this fact in a vacuum does a great disservice to the context of the work. Emma at 21 is not considering young, and Mr Knightley says himself that he fears his age is a barrier to their relationship. To collapse a 500 page novel into a few lines of analysis, the historical context of the work matters, as does Austen's authorial perspective. I would argue that Emma is proto-feminist; many people may disagree. But critical discourse about this relationship is much more productive than simply labelling Emma as a Bad Problematic Book.

In the current age of the internet, people want to be fed information and move on, but this learned informational helplessness is so destructive. There are clear root causes of this: the post-truth era, charismatic politics, defunding of the arts and humanities in schools, covid causing educational delays. It just really worries me that people cannot truly read anymore, and what that means for social interactions when we are increasingly spending our time online.

Let me be crystal clear: I do not believe that this is a case of people online bringing intentional bad faith reactions to media and social interaction. Maybe like 5% of the time people are looking for a fight, but mostly I believe that it is because these people have been failed by their environments. Although we can't singlehandedly fix the education and political systems across every single country on earth, we can engage with people in a good faith way. Yes, it takes work, and no, you do not have to do anything. I completely understand if you don't want to engage in these kinds of discussions, especially if you're providing an uninvited contribution.

If the opportunity arises, I find bringing a good faith response to a reductive take on media, and continuing to engage that person in a way which explicitly attempts to understand their perspective yields positive results. And you can always walk away.

Shock upon shock, I have even been able to have a good faith discussion in a Tiktok comments section, so there is hope.

TL;DR - poor reading comprehension = needless moralising, but if you just chat to people it's really not that bad.

[dungeonbf]

LMAOOO i can picture him laid out on the bed role playing his ww2 rp and someone comes in and he tosses everything under the bed and is like “what do you want 😡”. also ur so right with the lps.. im going to add that to my selfship Pinterest board under his section ty!!

an acc just tries to get him to be more normal pilled.. they r the ideologies off brand version of SpongeBob and squidward I fear.. /hj but srsly an acc sees chris lib and turns to auth right with a shit eating grin like “i know what you are 🏳️‍🌈”. an acc doesn’t even have to say anything and auth right just goes “shut up shut the fuck up” and chris lib is like “?” <\3 but I think chris lib wld wave at an acc regardless ^_^ they r buddies..

PFFTTTYHABBAHA HIM AND HIS VINTAGE NIGHTY WIGHTIES he is not real I can’t even. he comes in dressed for bed and Chris lib is like “what is that. you look like a damsel in distress.” and he’s like “IT’S TRUE VINTAGE. FROM AN ERA WHERE THINGS WERE RIGHT!” and chris lib is like “ok princess ok damn. calm down.”

lmaooo ur right tho.. auth right takes chris lib out to this fancy place and he’s like working every move he knows (which is mostly just staring. and like. putting his hand on hers but mostly staring and smiling). It is soooo awkward for the waiter I feel so bad for whoever serves them. auth right is sweating bullets and Chris lib looks so unimpressed (but he’s happy on the inside he just forgets to express sometimes. he’s me so he forgets to express every now and then) and at the end of the date auth right takes him home and chris lib is like “that was nice. i’d like to go out again with you :)” and gives him a kiss on the cheek before heading inside. and auth right is stunned. oh god *head in hands* they r in love

I’VE WATCHED SOME OF THE OFFICE AND THAT IS THE FUNNIEST THING HELP. chris lib: why are you so smiley? an acc: anti centrism gave me his jacket because it was cold. an acc: this is the best day of my life. chris lib: lmao ok

if chris lib ever went “anti centrism is just ok” an acc wld go “TO YOU. HE IS JUST OKAY TO YOU. HE IS EVERYTHING.” ITS LIKE THOSE COPYPASTAS WAIT LMAO

who is anticentrism? to the blind, he is the light to the starving, he is bread to the sick, he is the cure to the lonely, he is a companion to the sad, he is joy to the prisoner, he is freedom to the poor, he is treasure for me, he is EVERYTHING. I LOVE anti centrism

— @boykujou

@boykujou wait wait you know the homophobic dog… that’s me with auth right, that’s our entire dynamic i hate this guy.

this is how he makes me feel.

also i saw this and it reminds me of authright so here u go

(you’re the one texting “stop”) ALSO THIS IS MAKING ME GIGGLE IRL… i will be your guys’ waiter… i will refill your drinks and blatantly nudge authright with my elbow and wink and be the annoying wingman i was meant to be!!!! genuinely love your dynamic with him, it’s so cute. are you guys the type to debate about politics? especially since your views are so different? i’m curious :3

also, i think authright is a gift giver. nothing too extravagant but after the third date or something, he gives chrislib a pretty necklace to show his appreciation — and, i think if you pet his hair he would spontaneously combust into flames. give him affection, he needs it.

also i hope you know i read the copypasta and started laughing in real life, that is SO funny and it’s so real. like that copypasta where it’s like

if anti-centrism has 5000 fans i’m one of them

if anti-centrism has 500 fans i’m one of them

if anti-centrism has 50 fans i’m one of them

if anti-centrism have 5 fans best believe i’m one of them

if he has 1 fan then I AM that fan

and if he has 0 fans then i must be dead.

diehard anti-centrism fan til i DIE. i think their dynamic is very interesting because an-acc is such a fan, qui thinks anti-centrism is sooo cool and i feel like qui tries so hard to impress anti-centrism, ‘cause an-acc’s a wacky ideology and therefore kinda looked down upon by the other extremists, so qui has to try extra hard to get approval, yk?? i feel like an-acc’s a little bit off the rails, honestly, and starts leaving love notes at anti-centrism’s door a week into knowing jrem. (also sidenote, i know anti-centrism’s actual name as a character is “jreg”, i think i’m gonna use it very sparingly though cuz i wanna keep a good distinction between the character and creator — i’ll use it as more of a nickname, rather than his actual name)

i think anti-centrism appreciates the love notes, though, he walks with a bit more pep in his step after reading them :3

[etrefin]

1. No one in the Gwynriel side thinks Gwyn and Azriel are already living a romance, the offpage "build up" and plot is not something we are the ones wishing for. We were not in Azriel pov and every character in Acotar has trouble reading Az so saying he didn't care is a stretch since his shadows reacted when Cassian mentioned all the three girls.

Other than that, having Azriel react like Cassian who is already in love with Nesta and knows she is his mate would make things too obvious. The mate bond is still treated as a surprise element in SJM books even though that's all she writes about. Why and how would Azriel react like Cassian in the current story?

2. I really don't know why you guys cling to this "sencond choice" thing to badly, it's just so bad that we would need to call almost all SJM endgame couples the second, third or fourth choices, that's not how she actually builds romance.

Why would YOU want E/ain to end up with someone who gave that ~oh so special~ gift to another woman so damn easily after a few smiles and a nice chat? Right after saying to her face that "it was a mistake". Btw by your own logic she would be the "second choice" to Mor, who he have been in love for 500 years.

3. Ah yes, the classic lightsinger theory, can't wait for boss Gwyn to make the most powerful characters in ACOTAR look like the biggest clowns ever after she managed to live under the high lord roof for two years, be friends with Nesta, train with the NC general and the NC >>>>spymaster<<<<<, get closer to all of them and no one noticed she is a powerful creature who is rare enough for people to think they can't leave the Bog. Imagine doing that when the IC got someone who has the Truth power and also got a spymaster who is a shadowsinger. It's fr going to be funny af, I'll not be able to take anyone there srsly after this.

It's #antigwynriel btw

Can gwynriel people explain to me why Az didn’t care in the slightest about gwyn being taken for the blood rite??? You know that it takes place AFTER their apparent solstice “moment” right?? You know, where hes supposed to have started having these feelings for her…. He seems rather uninterested to me….

Also why do people want gwyn to be a second choice anyways? if Az had his choice he’d have been cuddling in bed with Elain whether you like it or not. I mean hes a little caught up in his feelings for elain atm don’t think he looking for another female immediately after…if he was that would drop my opinion of him to the damn bottom of the list right next to tamlin 😂 😬

Right now i am loving the lightsinger gwyn theory. Nesta and az seemed to be affected by something in relation to her. Interested in where her story goes but i feel like we won’t see that for another book or 2 potentially. Maybe the novella?

Man I haven’t posted here in a while but this really irritates me LOL

[madebycoffee]

I got to Senbamachi a bit early, the light festival as it turns out... Happens when it gets darker. Who woulda thought it... But! No matter- I spent the time fishing at my favorite little spot. Think I'm getting wayyyy better at it too. I'm managing to make some actual real simoleons from this! NICE!

[tumblunni]

First chapter of almost every shonen manga ever

Some incredibly ordinary guy: I am menaced by generic villain!

Generic villain: haw haw haw! I am probably black, arabic, ambiguously queer or some other minority but i'm definately fat!

Mysterious the protagonist: I appear!

Everyone ever: gosh he is so cool and great

Protagonist: watch how i defy social norms (with regards to politeness and not with regards to the stereotype the villain represents)

Ordinary dude: I am frustrated by your irreverent behaviour and somehow meant to seem unreasonable for this!

Protagonist: i will probably waste all your money on food, embarass you at your workplace, and if you are a woman possibly grope you on the way out!

Everyone else: wow he is So Cool

Ordinary dude: time to exposit my Sad Backstory

Protagonist: even though you have been working to fight this guy for possibly 15 years and i have no personal interest in your plight and quite possibly went "eww so boring i sleep", i am somehow the only person truly qualified to resolve your backstory

The narrative: possibly has a note about how he is So Super Perfect because he Just Helps People Even If He Doesnt Have A Reason, even though he just ignored the reason and acted like a rude asshole for 28 pages

Protagonist: I was empathetic all along! And somehow more than people who actually act like it!

Stereotype man: haw haw haw i sure do like menacing people for literally no reason and probably i'm also in a gang!

Predictable moment: he kills his own men to prove how evil he is

Alternatively: look i have captured Ordinary Dude and proved how wrong they were for thinking they could resolve their own backstory ok now i put a gun to their head and its supposed to prove how you are indeed not an ass despite acting like an ass cos you...dont want to let a guy die i guess??

Possible addendum: haw haw do some sort of degrading non badass thing because i am blackmailing u with kill the damsel

Everyone: oh gasp this is so terrible and worse than actual murder because how dare he make badass man not be badass!!

Protagonist: ha i was actually never in any danger of losing and now i reveal my Big Power

Big power: *instantly kills [secondary midboss of main villain] with no effort*

Protagonist: please ignore how this means i could have solved the problem 18 hours ago and the author only dragged it out for a chance to show off

Some guy in the crowd: gasp he's really [INSERT COOL NICKNAME] and is famous in [ALL PLACE] for [THING]

Some other guy: he has a bounty of [NUMBER]!

A third: Somehow we never noticed this wanted poster we all seem to own until it was thematically important!

The first guy: let me exposit his entire backstory in five seconds!

The backstory: my female figure or dad figure died and i am searching for the legendary thingus and/or To Prove I Am More Cool And Perfect Than Everyone Else

Meanwhile: dramatic shot of Ordinary Dude (probably still under Stereotype's foot) staring deeply at Protagonist with Emotion I Guess

Crowd: wow we should have realized he was cool and perfect!

Ordinary dude: i was foolish to doubt he was cool and perfect!

Stereotype villain: i also instantly believe this and am reduced to a blubbering mess!

Ordinary dude: truly his suffering is worse than everyone else! Ignoring the fact that im living the same backstory literally now! Boy it sure is conveinient that it made him step up and become amazing so he can resolve my plot without me getting the same thing!

Protagonist: *chops off bad guy's head in some cool two page spread*

Protagonist: its great how this is more climactic than the person actually affected by the thing getting any resolution

Overhead shot: we are later now i suppose!

Crowd: we sure are far away from the camera! It is vaguely implied we are thanking you!

Protagonist: Now Is The Time I Must Go For No Reason

Ordinary dude: *runs out like theyre trying to stop a wedding*

The same panel every time: wide shot of them panting out of breath

Dramatic zoom in on face yelling: STOP I HAVE PREDICTABLE PLOT INFORMATION TO TELL YOU

Ordinary dude: wow u like saved my life and such and i appreciate u stealing my entire story and proving i only existed as a vessel to prove you were kinda neat

Ordinary dude: btw i was completely wrong and shameful for thinking you were not the second coming of actual anime christ

Protagonist: hmm yes i agree but like in a non egotistical way somehow

Ordinary dude: IF IM A GIRL I HAVE A LOVE CONFESSION

Protagonist: why are you yelling

Ordinary dude: BECAUSE YOURE WALKING AWAY

Protagonist: WHY DOES NOBODY AKNOWLEDGE HOW MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE I AM

The writer: dude's gotta have Every Woman love him but be all Cool And Detatched, yknow?

Literally everyone: we do not know. No human acts like this.

Ordinary dude: if i am a young male i probably go with him as a sidekick and continue to fail constantly at ever being tough and be rescued for many issues into the future!

Some sort of relative of his: *drops dead now to justify a continuing motivation*

Protagonist: why not just have me not erase his first motivation with my bigass sword?

Ordinary dude: hey at least its better than when im a girl and you just say no to taking me with you for no remotely explained reason

Ordinary dude girl version: AND THEN I STAYED HERE FOREVER PINING FOR HIM AND HIS NAME WENT DOWN IN HISTORY AS THE [completer of previously established plot thread]

Protagonist: [catch phrase]

[ker0senebunny]

meet me behind the mall✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

steve harrington x fem!reader

part ii — 9/25/22

summary: steve was never yours to lose. you went in knowing that, but god, you'd give anything to go back to that summer. a tale of childhood enemies, kisses in cars, and the best summer of your life. inspired by my favorite track from folklore. enemies to almost lovers. focuses primarily on seasons 2, 3, and 4. (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), dom!steve strikes again except he's a lil meaner, sub!reader, drinking/use of alcohol, but no use of sir or daddy etc, praise + degredation combo yktv, oral (m!recieving, mentions of f!receiving), mentions of penetration (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), mentions of fingering, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, kinda asshole!steve but pt ii is gonna be more soft s3 steve. promise. all characters are 18+, beta'd (freakin finally) by @flwersgarden, @royalmaybank, @appocalipse, and @kissmxcheek

word count: 9,596 (jeez. now u all see why it took so long)

notes: first of all: thank you to my absolutely lovely proofreaders/editers/besties. you all are always kind, always encouraging, always loving. you motivate me on my most unmotivated days. i admire you all so much as writers and as wonderful people. with that being said, it's been a while, hasn't it! so sorry for the delay. college is very overwhelming! anyways, as you see above, the sequel will (hopefully) be out in two weeks. this is part i of iii so strap in everybody. enjoy! xox olive

p.s. 500 followers wtf??? thankyou im gonna stinkin cry. and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated. thank u for the lurv (srsly)

when steve harrington loves someone, he makes it known. which perfectly explains why he didn’t want to make you known.

you wanted him to be the boy who walked you up your driveway, moths fluttering against the porch light overhead. you wanted him to take your chin between his fingers and tilt your lips toward his. you wanted to taste the watermelon lip balm he’d borrowed from you. you wanted him to wait until you unlocked the door, almost slipping inside, before turning around to feel the plush of his lips against yours just once more.

and you foolishly believed that he could be that boy.

instead, you got rushed calls asking you to meet him behind the mall in his BMW and a stupid nickname.

steve was probably your greatest enemy (no, you’re not exaggerating. a years-long feud has earned him that title). but it was fine. after all, you had your best friend robin. the two of you were planning on moving to california after high school, dreaming of a shabby apartment with peeling paint that you’d cover up with photos of friends and posters. maybe you’d coparent a cat. you didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life, yet. you just couldn’t handle hawkins anymore. it was a drab little town, rusted and decaying. not quite past its prime — there wasn’t really ever a prime. you just wanted more.

steve was your next door neighbor. to say things had been rocky between the two of you would be an understatement. your parents were on good terms, and you and steve used to be sort-of-maybe-kind-of friends.

it all started when an ice cream truck pulled onto your ritzy street. you ran out of your house at full force: nine years old, with one tooth missing in the front. you had begged your mom for her spare change right before you sprinted out the door. you just had to get the last cherry ice pop. but someone was there before you; you watched as the truck driver placed a red “x” over your precious ice pop flavor. you were dejected, preparing to go back inside when you caught a glimpse of a striped shirt out of the corner of your eye. it was steve harrington, your older next door neighbor who lived just over the fence to the right of you. you threw a determined look in the direction of the brown-haired boy before marching up to him. you tapped him on the shoulder and he looked at you, confusedly. you held out your little palm, coins clinking and set in the center.

“i’ll pay you extra for that ice pop,” you said, your mouth set into a serious line. steve seemed interested, quirking his brows up, hazel eyes shimmering in the indiana humidity. “how much do you have?” he asked, nodding at your hand. you counted the coins in your hand. “i have one dollar. and i know you paid fifteen cents for that ice pop. i’ll give you the whole dollar for it.” he pondered your deal for a couple of seconds before saying, “nah, i’m good!” and walking around you, back toward his house. you turned around to chase him as as he walked toward his house. “please, steve! cherry is my favorite,” you begged, putting on your best pitiful face that always worked on your parents and stopping right in front of him. you watched as his face changed, and you thought you’d won. “oh cherry’s your favorite?” he asked. you nodded so vigorously that your summer dress waved in the muggy air. “tough luck,” he said before unwrapping the ice pop and taking a big bite in front of you. you stood there, mouth agape as he exaggeratedly enjoyed what should’ve been your ice pop, right in front of you no less! he licked his crimson-dyed mouth as he threw the barren popsicle stick into the garbage can in his driveway. “see you around, cherry,” he said as he walked up to his porch and slammed the door to his house.

that’s how you became cherry to steve and steve only. he annoyed you every day of your life with that stupid fucking nickname.

on your first day of freshman year, you popped into the entrance of hawkins high with robin, your best friend since middle school. steve saw you, whistled, and yelled down the hall, causing everyone to stare at you: “hey, sweet cherry! look at you, all grown up.” your excited face morphed into a fiery glare as you angrily walked past him, skirt swishing. his goons howled and cackled as you seethed, robin turning around to flip them off.

it wasn’t like the two of you fought every time you were around one another. okay, it totally was. but it was because he was such an insufferable dickhead and you were definitely not going to take his bullshit lying down.

he started dating nancy during your sophomore year, something you learned as you walked to his car in the morning, opening the door to the passenger side before his hand shot out to stop you. you rolled your eyebrows. “steve, i have a big history test today and i’m not in the mood for whatever the fuck you’re doing.” he rolled his eyes back at you. “we’re picking up my girlfriend,” he said, kicking at the loose gravel in his driveway. your eyebrows flew to the top of your forehead. “girlfriend?” your voice rising so high in pitch that it came out as a squeak. “and you haven’t managed to be an utter douche yet?” he rolled his eyes so hard you were afraid they'd get stuck there. “just get in the backseat, cherry,” he said as he slid into the car.

you looked at the smooth leather incredulously as steve adjusted his rearview mirror. you gingerly pushed your bag into the car, making sure your body touched the seat as little as possible. “i don’t even want to know what’s happened back here,” you said as you shuddered. steve caught your gaze in the mirror, a piece of gum popped in his mouth. “y’know, cherry, you’ve had many chances to find that out for yourself,” he said with a teasing lilt to his lips. you scrunched your nose in disgust and made a retching noise. “i’d rather drink a t-shirt through a straw,” you said in a huff. to your surprise, he actually laughed.

you hadn’t been paying attention, choosing to review your history notes one more time and so you didn’t realize you pulled up to the wheeler house. now, you were extra intrigued. steve honked twice and rolled down the window as nancy wheeler approached, giving her a kiss at which you gagged. he glared at you through the rearview mirror.

“nancy, you know cherry. my enemy,” he said as he pulled out of her driveway, a hand on the back of the passenger seat. you saw the veins and tendons in his arm flex under suntanned skin from a summer of lake days and pineapple sunscreen. nancy gave you a shy smile, which you returned. you also told her your real name and explained to her that for some reason, her dipshit boyfriend couldn’t let go of something that happened when you were kids. she laughed prettily at your words and a weird feeling settled on your chest, an unwelcome and quite frankly, bothersome weight. she returned to a gooey conversation with steve, letting you simmer uncomfortably in the backseat.

you blocked out their lovey-dovey-whatever-the-fuck with your flash cards.

you hated yourself for it, but when steve and nancy started falling apart, you were kind of glad. you’d actually gotten pretty close to nancy because of all the carpooling, often seeking one another out during your classes to giggle about something one of the basketball jocks said. so you hated yourself for your glee at seeing them leave separately at a halloween party. you didn’t even really understand why it felt like that intrusive weight had been lifted from your chest. you convinced yourself that you were just relieved that youur dear friend dumped that idiot.

at the moment, you were dressed up in your sluttiest costume, batting away gross high school boys who tried to woo you. you were dressed as a pixie: a form fitting, dark green dress, so short that the distressed skirt barely brushed the top of your thighs. you finished off your look with a cute pair of wings. you were just trying to enjoy the night with robin; the two of you made it a habit to people-watch at these things. well, because drunk people were funny and easy to make fun of. it’s not mean, it’s just the truth.

you saw steve walk in and immediately nudged robin to snort at his stupid risky business costume, but then he took his sunglasses off. and he saw you. and he looked you up and down over the edge of those stupid sunglasses. and he ran his stupid tongue over his stupid pretty mouth. and maybe it was the vodka running through you (cherry flavored of course), but god, in that moment, you just wanted him.

you shook yourself from your lustful stare and broke eye contact with him. he slipped his glasses back on and followed a very distressed looking nancy deeper into the party. again, probably the cherry vodka, but you didn’t seem to notice her coming your way. she called your name to get your attention and an easy smile made its way onto your face. “nance!” you giggled as you moved to squeeze her. she laughed at your tipsy self and made sure that you were okay before giving steve an unsure look and getting herself a drink. you were left with steve as he took off his sunglasses again, just to look you in the eye. you looked to your left, but robin was nowhere to be seen.

“you look good, cherry,” he said lowly, taking you in once again.

your breathing was a little uneven. “tha-thank you,” you said, looking at your green fingernails against the red of the solo cup in your suddenly clammy hands. he leaned one arm against the wall behind you, blocking your view of the kitchen.

“really good,” he said at a volume only you could hear. you shuddered as you felt blood rush to the surface of your cheeks, warming them to the touch. it was definitely the alcohol in your body because here you were, getting horny over steve fucking harrington. a) your enemy and b) the boyfriend of one of your friends. thank god said friend returned that instant, pulling steve away to dance, seemingly refreshed by a shot of tequila. you gave nancy's hand a squeeze before she left, mouthing the words “call me later” at her. you thought that something was off with her. obviously, she was still grieving barb’s death - something that she confided in you. but you had a feeling that there was more there.

sometimes, it’s scary how on the nose you are with things.

at least an hour ago, robin told you that she was going to walk home with vickie, a girl who was in marching band with her. you were a comfortable amount of tipsy: the kind of drunk where every blink feels like a new, warmly-tinted world. but not so drunk that you’d make catastrophic decisions.

you didn’t need alcohol to do that.

you decided that it was time to leave. you’d finally gotten bored of watching all the people you knew make a fool of themselves. you walked outside, past cups littered on the lawn and through the october chill, to see steve sitting in his car - alone. you furrowed your brow before crossing your arms to create a little warmth and walking over. you gently knocked on the driver’s side window, startling the boy. he had a vacant look in his red-rimmed eyes. steve rolled down the window before sighing out, “cherry, i’m really not in the mood to fight right now.”

now you had to know what happened.

“i’m not here to fight with you,” you said as you leaned in closer, “i saw you when i came out and just wanted to check in.” you said it so plainly, like it was an obvious truth and not a huge contradiction to the entirety of your relationship. steve felt like his lungs had started again. he rolled up the window before pushing open the passenger seat door. you’d just barely settled into the seat and closed the door before he said, “nance told me she doesn’t love me.” you turned to face him. “steve, she was super drunk-“ he looked at you with more raw emotion than you’d ever seen from him. “cherry.” he stopped you in the middle of your sentence. “i know that she meant it.” you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know how to handle comforting the one person you’d hated for what felt like a lifetime.

you turned your whole body to face him before stretching across the console to give him an awkward hug. he went stiff in your grasp as you looped your arms around his shoulders. “what the hell are you-“ “shut up, dipshit,” you said, “i’m giving you a goddamn hug. just accept it. you can win her back, y’know? you can be sort of sweet, sometimes.” he actually relaxed at your words and pushed his cheek into the space between your collarbone and your neck. you felt him inhale against your skin and your flesh pebbled. he slowly wrapped his arms around you too, pulling you into him. you squeaked in surprise and he chuckled, the warmth and the vibrations of his low voice extended through your entire being. “thank you, cherry. needed this.” you hummed. “of course, steve. i don’t actually hate you, did you not know that?” you felt him shrug. “honestly? i couldn’t tell.” you threw your head back and laughed, the sound taking up the small amount of space in his car. as you stopped laughing, you noticed that you were almost on his lap, your hands moving to rest against his broad chest. his pretty pink pout inched closer toward yours. there was a fraction of an inch between the two of you. “steve,” you said softly into the air between you two, “we can’t. there’s still nance to think about. you haven’t actually broken up yet.” he shook his head, a hand coming to rest on your hip. you could feel the warmth of his hand through your flimsy skirt. “there’s no nance. there’s only you right now, cherry.”

when steve harrington kisses someone, he wants them to feel it. and he wants them to feel it everywhere.

you definitely did.

he pushed his silken lips to join yours, sending you into a spiral, body thrumming with feverish passion. his kiss was needy, as if you were a replacement for someone else but he just needed someone. but you didn’t care. because that wasn’t the craziest thing about this…entire experience. your arms had wound themselves around his neck, his arms around your waist, tugging you across the console.

of course, you tasted like cherries. steve groaned as he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, silently asking you to open your mouth for him. your little gasp allowed him to slip is tongue into your mouth; his big hands tugging you even more into his lap. he kissed you like it would be the last thing he ever did on this godforsaken earth. you clumsily crawled to his seat, planting yourself in his lap. you both laughed into the kiss, before melding your lips together once again. he kissed you breathless, watching as your lips shone with a mixture of his and your spit. he pulled you toward him to plant another passionate kiss on your mouth, before making his way down your neck. steve sucked little bruises into the column of your throat and savored the taste of your sweet soap. he left a vine of dark, blooming spots as you writhed and shivered on top of him. you pitched your hips over his, causing your clothed core to run over the ridge of his growing bulge. he kissed all the way down to your chest, running his hands up and down your sides, causing you to shiver. he bit down gently on the swell of your left breast, gently sliding his hand under the delicate strap of your dress, pulling down on the elastic to reveal your entire breast. you pushed your chest forward and he grunted out a laugh as he wrapped his pink pout around your stiffened, pert nub. you were throwing your head back to give him more access to your tits, lost in the pleasure, when suddenly his horn beeped — startling you both. you looked at him with your matching kiss-stung lips, your eyes wide. he was still breathing heavily.

you looked at the dark sparkle of steve’s eyes and the flush to the tips of his ears. you smiled down and leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head. you stopped abruptly, smoothing down his collar in a calming motion. “is everything okay?” you asked delicately. even though your bodies were pressed together, you and steve couldn't have been further from one another. he ran a hand over his face and sighed. “i can’t do this cherry.” you gave him a small smile of pained understanding and slid off of his lap.

he put the car into drive.

the ride toward both of your houses was silent, save for the wind rushing past the window you opened. you’d needed to cool off after what had just occurred; you may have betrayed one of your friends by furiously making out with her boyfriend (who she thinks you hate) and you kissed steve harrington. the boy who gave you the dumbest nickname he could think of so he could use you as personal entertainment.

because that’s what he does. he uses people.

steve pulled up to your house, and as you moved to open your door, he gently took your wrist in his hold. you halted your movements, turning your head to look at him. “i just want you to know that this didn’t mean anything, cherry. it can't.” you felt as if your brain had plummeted to your feet. you blinked in shock. “what do you mean?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you, brows high. “that. in my car. it didn’t mean anything to me.” you were stunned. he kissed you first, and when you reciprocated, he reciprocated with even more fervor. you scoffed before exiting his car. “you’re never going to find ‘the one’ if you keep treating girls like shit, steve.” you slammed his car door, causing him to jump a little at the force. you trudged up the stairs to your porch as shameful tears burned at your waterline.

you heard the quiet rumble of his car as he waited for you to safely enter your home. your fingers trembled in the crisp fall air as you slipped through your door. he simply turned to go to his house. you could see the marks your teeth had left, lavender and garnet winding their way around his neck.

(and then he had the audacity to ignore you for almost an entire week.)

your parents were asleep as you padded up the carpeted stairs. you quietly shut the door to your room, running your hands over your face. there was a post it left atop the phone on your nightstand — a note from your mother. it said that you had a call from nancy and to make sure that you called her back. your still shaking hands picked up the phone, dialing the wheeler family’s number. your slightly drunken brain was all muddled, from both the alcohol and the memory of steve’s plush kisses seared into your skin. so muddled, in fact, that you’d barely remembered that it was past midnight. thankfully, it seemed that nancy was awaiting your call, picking up after only a few rings. you waited for her to say something, calling out her name gently to get her attention, closing your eyes as sobriety started to make your head ache.

”steve and i broke up.”

your eyes popped open in surprise. “what? why?” you spluttered, unsure how to support her. she seemed subtly different — distanced, even. “i don’t think i ever loved him,” she said. she sounded exhausted. “i’m so sorry nance,” you said, heart making a dull, incessant thudding in your ribcage. sure, on a technicality he’d been single, but now he was your friend’s ex. she sighed into the phone. you could picture her curling and uncurling the thick, coiled wire as she talked to you. “eh, it was for the better. he just used me to prove that he could get me, y’know? i don’t think he actually wanted me.” you didn’t say anything. of course you knew better. of course you knew that he did, in fact, actually love her. “what an asshole!” you said indignantly, “give me the word nance and i’ll climb into his room from mine and rock his shit.” her laugh trickled out of the tiny speaker, crackled but joyous. “you always make me feel better,” she said to you in earnest, “thank you. you’re just one of those people who would never hurt me. i’ll call you tomorrow.” your pulse seemed to fall out of your body. but you didn’t tell her that; she needed the you she knew, not the you who almost fucked her ex two seconds after they broke up. “of course, nance. i love you.” that’s what you settled on. you both bid one another good night and hung up the phone. you grabbed your stuffed teddy and curled around it, falling just on the line between consciousness and sleep.

you had a reputation of being a good babysitter so when claudia henderson calls, you pick up. dustin was one of your favorite kids in hawkins, constantly making you laugh with his quips and contagious smile. on that particular fall weekend morning (claudia had a wedding to go to), dustin was determined to see steve. he kept dragging out your name, pestering you with a whiny tone of voice. “please!” he said as you spread mustard on his sandwich at the kitchen counter. “absolutely not!” you sang, keeping up with your rhythmic smearing. dustin groaned and put his head on the counter like a toddler. he said something, but it was muffled by the granite surface. “come again?” you said with a small smile on your face at his antics. dustin raised his head, blowing curls away as they blocked his vision. “he’s just helping me look for dar— i mean, for mews. please?” you sighed at his pleas. you couldn’t deny that your heart clenched at the thought of the innocent boy and his missing cat. “fine,” you said, rinsing off the knife you’d been using and giving dustin his lunch. “but i’m not letting you out of my sight. i’m in charge. capiche?” he nodded and thanked you through his chewing, oblivious to the storm rampaging through your mind at the thought of seeing steve.

you’d been trudging through dry leaves for what felt like hours, but was probably more like 20 minutes. when you’d arrived at this shady meeting spot with dustin, steve spat out your name. you winced internally at the omission of the nickname you claimed to hate. “what’s she doing here, henderson?” he asked, with venom lacing his voice. as if you were the one to initiate a kiss, tell him that it meant nothing, and ignore you for no reason. he was giving dustin quite a look, one you took to mean that he didn’t want you there because of the kiss. what you didn’t know was that steve wanted you as far away as possible from the dangers of the upside down. but of course, you had no idea that steve and dustin had been through literal hell together. “i’m in charge of dustin for today, so i’m staying,” you said, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows in a challenge. “stubborn as always, cherry,” he said into the empty forest, not even bothering to look at you.

so, you spat back, “fuck you, harrington.”

“almost did, baby,” he said over his shoulder.

your mouth was agape. your vision turned white hot with rage at his immaturity. so you did what any rational person would do.

a crack rang out and spread throughout the wood. steve held his cheek where an imprint of your delicate hand was beginning to redden. your own hand stung from the force with which you slapped him, a tingle spreading through your palm. dustin looked on with shock in his big brown eyes. steve just turned toward the abandoned railroad track and began walking, rubbing his jaw.

the two of them were spreading meat all over the forest floor, and when you’d asked, dustin had given you some half-baked excuse. you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it, but you were so stressed out that you let it slide. you walked with your arms crossed to keep out the autumn bluster that permeated your cream-colored sweater. the red ribbon in your hair blew gently in the breeze, and steve thought about his hands embedded in your hair, his mouth on yours, you, in his car. in his bed, waking up to your face. he returned to the present when he heard you ask dustin about if he was sure "mews" was in this “creepy forest.”

you were looking at steve, too. he looked a little too good in his jeans and gray members only jacket. his hair was coiffed over as per usual, but you kept thinking about how you’d mussed it beyond repair the last time you saw him. you felt embarrassment and a little excitement rush to your cheeks as you tried to look anywhere but at him and his stupid, perfect face. and he had a bat with nails in it. why he took it with him to look for a cat, you didn’t know. but it was kind of hot.

he’s a dick, you quickly chastised yourself.

“dude, that’s not how you impress a girl,” you heard steve say. you were intrigued. you knew that dustin probably also told steve about his crush on max, and steve being just so good with girls was about to give him some advice.

“i don’t know. you’re trying way too hard,” steve continued.

dustin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “well, not everyone can have your perfect hair. alright?” he retorted.

steve rolled his eyes right back. “it’s not about the hair, man. the key with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

you snorted at that, causing both of them to turn to look at you. steve narrowed his eyes as you challenged his words. “got something to add, cherry?” he said with that tone of voice that made you want to tackle him. a small smile made its way to your pretty lips. the same lips that steve couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about. “that’s not how you show a girl that you like her.” dustin was suddenly enraptured by your perspective. “what do i have to do? tell me!” the boy begged you. you laughed at his urgency. “show her that you do care. communicate with her. be clear about what you want with her,” you said with certainty, before continuing, “be kind to her. do something for her that you know she’ll like.” steve was silent. you thought he was upset by you stealing his thunder, but really, he was deep in thought. why was he thinking about you? why was he thinking about how he kept your favorite watermelon lip balm in his car (just in case you needed some. he definitely didn’t use it to see what you’d taste like)? why was he thinking of sneaking through your window to kiss you silly and wake up with his face in your neck, your hands on his back? why was he thinking of you, his cherry, instead of nancy? he blinked to clear his mind of thoughts of you, before grumbling something about the light disappearing.

on that day, you were supposed to be watching dustin. except for the fact that the child you were supposed to keep safe, was very much indeed, missing. you’d called him down for dinner over 15 minutes ago. he told you that he was going to do some homework after your excursion with steve. when no response came from his room, you’d searched the entire henderson household, frantically moving shower curtains and drapery aside. you almost gave up when you saw that the laundry room window was open, and you knew that your favorite little shit had gotten out. you went out into the living room to center yourself as you felt panic sink in. a loud crackle brought you out of your deep breathing. it was one of dustin’s extra walkie talkies on the coffee table. you grabbed it and fiddled with the dial until you heard small voices calling dustin’s name. “dustin! where are you? we’re almost at the junkyard.” a beep, another crackle. “almost there! it was tough to get out, guys. give me a break.” it was dustin. your mind went into protective mode as you shoved your feet into your converse and grabbed the walkie talkie. you rushed outside and took one of the spare bikes in the hendersons' garage before booking it to the old junkyard, the light sinking beneath the horizon and dusting the world around you in night.

when you arrived, you saw dustin and lucas (whom you knew), along with a redheaded girl and wait— steve? “dustin!” you yelled, worry evident in your voice. everyone’s heads whipped toward you, all four sets of eyes equally as wide. you marched toward the group, wading through the darkness and the heavy fog, fully prepared to drag dustin home. “cherry, you can’t be here,” steve said, taking a step toward you. “don’t tell me what to do, harrington. i mean nothing to you, remember?” steve didn’t know how to respond. his mouth moved as he reached for some way to tell you, no, cherry, honey. i can’t let you see this.

“i’m staying,” you said with finality. steve moved to protest again, but you both jumped at a rattling nearby. something growled and steve raised his bat. “cherry, take the kids and get in the bus,” he said, eyes flitting around — alert. “eat shit harring-” “cherry,” he said. he said that stupid nickname like he’d never said it before, urgently, tenderly, begging. you nodded breathing out a little “okay” as you herded the children toward the rusty vehicle. you all peered out as steve called to the creature, taunting it. lucas was looking through his binoculars when he gasped. “steve,” he screamed. “watch out!” steve kept his eyes trained on the monstrosity emerging from the fog. “a little busy here,” he said, licking his lips in anticipation of a fight. “three o’clock!” lucas yelled again. before you knew it, dustin was running toward the bus door, throwing it open, and calling steve’s name, and yelling “abort! abort!” you pulled dustin back in, hands trembling as you saw one of the creatures lunge at steve. he dodged successfully, rolling over the hood of a desolate car. another one launched itself at him and your heart seized in fear. luckily, he was fast enough to swing his bat at it; it landed with a half-whimper, half-growl. you realized that you were screaming now too.

“steve! hurry!” you cried, desperation tearing through in your voice. he was running now, running harder than ever now that he’d heard your sobs for him. he jumped in at the last second, just as you threw your arms out and shut the door. the creature’s body landed with a sickening thud against the door. more creatures gathered with the original, scratching at the door and shaking the bus. you scrambled to get the kids behind you as steve fortified the door. one broke through the door; everyone was yelling but you pushed the kids to the back of the bus as steve beat the monster with his bat. you joined him at the front, taking a nearby metal rod to help, knocking the beast to the ground, where it heaved weakly. one of its brethren saw your attack and charged at you. steve reacted in a heartbeat. he was on the monster in an instant, viciously hitting it with his bat. after a few more seconds, the creature made a shuddering move before laying still. the one previously attacking steve seemed to orient itself. it snarled, all dripping teeth and ragged growls, and threw itself at steve. he was unsuccessful, and to your horror, was about to go for steve’s throat. your name was caught on his tongue as he looked to you for comfort, for anything. and he saw it in your eyes. he saw everything you were afraid to tell him. but then, the monsters seemed to be enchanted by something, something you couldn’t perceive. they suddenly leaped out and off of the bus. relief flowed through your veins as you realized everyone was in tact. steve was in tact. you noticed that the two of you were smushed together as the kids regrouped next to you. you both pretended not to notice that steve’s arm was encircling your waist, rubbing at the sliver of skin that your top revealed.

“what the fuck was that steve?” you breathed out. you felt his chest rise beneath your back. “a demodog.” “a what?” he sucked in a breath, tensing underneath you, before launching into an explanation about all things upside down. at the end of his rant, you were quiet. “that’s why i didn’t want you here,” he said as if he weren’t sure you’d be listening. but you were; he held your attention fully. “i didn’t want you to have to see this.” you turned to face him, interlocking your fingers. “well, i’m sure as hell not leaving you now, harrington.” “as if you could ever stay away from me, cherry baby.”

oh, how right he was.

since steve had revealed the upside down to you, the two of you had been through a lot. more than the average enemies would go through together. he’d been beaten up by billy hargrove (someone you never particularly liked), and you’d sobbed over his bruised face, blood crusting in the little fissures left by billy’s knuckles. he’d woken up, dizzy and in pain to feel the wetness of your tears on his face. “i’m okay, cherry. look at me, hey? i’m fine,” he said, reaching up to put his palm on your cheek. he kept a secure hold on you as you traversed the complex tunnels, crushing you into his chest when he thought you two were about to die in a herd of inter-dimensional monsters. you’d both pulled away quickly, cheeks warm and clearing your throats nervously. surely enemies do that, right?

so now, steve was only more of a pain in your ass. especially since he made your heart flutter, since he made you perk up at just one whiff of rosemary and laundry detergent.

when starcourt mall opened up over the summer, robin got a summer job. the hendersons didn’t really need you as much this summer, and you already had a pretty good babysitting gig going with the waldens who lived on the other side of you. so in your spare time, you’d go visit your best friend.

the only issue was that steve pain-in-your-ass harrington worked with her.

sure, the free ice cream may be worth it, but was it really worth it to see him? especially after that halloween night. at the end of the day, you loved robin more and could shove the stinging thrill of seeing steve to the bottom of your stomach.

the only issue was that he looked too damn good in his dumb fucking sailor uniform. and you kept thinking about kissing him again.

both robin and steve were working today; you were perched behind the counter on a stool that robin had designated for you. though you’d tried to forget about "it" and him, you just couldn’t. yeah, you asked him to forget, but it seemed like he remembered it just as vividly as you did. the two of you tried to stay on opposite sides of the store, which was difficult considering that it was extremely small. and the area behind the counter just had to be narrow. he’d brush by your legs, causing your spine to stiffen and a sharp inhale to make its way down to your lungs. he’d grace you with a faint, “sorry, cherry.” you’d tuck your legs in closer to your seat. you wouldn’t — and couldn’t — look each other in the eye. robin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, chattering away to you both. you’d noticed that the two of them were getting closer. you weren’t the type of person to tell your friends who they could and couldn’t be friends with, but robin knew that steve used to be your enemy. not used to be, you reminded yourself, he is my enemy.

it was one of the slower days that june — the morning of what would inevitably become the friday rush. the store was quiet, save for the hum of the freezer. you were enjoying your sample of cherry-almond swirl as robin checked the freezer one last time. “shit,” she muttered, sliding one of the frosted doors open. you cocked your head at her, spoon still in your mouth. robin turned to steve. “i have to go refill the cookies and cream. we accidentally put two chocolate chips in. be right back!” she was out the door before either you or steve could offer your help in the larger freezer in the back (aka avoid one another). the hum of the fluorescent lights was louder, grainier, invading your headspace. the edges of the plastic spoon now stung the sides of your mouth and the almond flavor left a bitterness on your tongue. you took the spoon out and chucked it into the “used spoons” cup, all the way from your little stool. “nice shot,” steve said, causing you to whip your head around to look at him, surprise sparking in your eyes at the sound of his voice. “thanks,” you said dryly. it was quiet for a beat before you took the initiative to speak again. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you, but i’m sorry about you and nance,” you said. he gave you a tight smile. “right,” he said, “you two are close.” you mirrored his smile. “yeah. i know you tried your best,” you said awkwardly. “thanks. i just don’t know if i’m meant to have her,” he said with melancholy weaving through his words. steve looked like he wanted to say something else. just as he opened his mouth, you both turned toward the door as you heard robin mumbling about how heavy the ice cream was. steve quickly turned toward you, “meet me behind the mall. after my shift. please?” you nodded slightly, suspicion clouding your eyes. he reached out to squeeze your hand, moving toward the register and giving the standard scoops ahoy greeting as the afternoon rush began.

steve had left scoops maybe fifteen minutes ago. you nibbled at your lip, another spoonful of cherry-almond swirl left a sweetness on your tongue. the coldness sitting in your mouth faded away as you checked the clock again. robin looked at you as you raised your eyes toward the clock again.

“go.”

“what?” you said, only half paying attention, lost in your thoughts about a certain boy’s freckles.

robin dragged out your name with a playful impatience.

“go.” you furrowed your brow as she plunged the scoops ahoy’s grey shag of a mop into soapy water. “dude, it’s okay. i’m getting a ride from my mom. i don’t know who this is about, but if you look at the clock one more time i’ll never give you my blessing to be with them,” she said as she slapped the mop on the tiled floor.

you looked at robin, still chewing your lip, plastic spoon in hand. “you sure, robbie?” she flashed you a toothy smile. “promise, cherry,” she said with a wink. “don’t you dare call me that, buckley,” you said as you tossed your spoon and pulled on your cardigan. she cackled as you swung open the door, turning left toward the parking lot. you made a sharp right through the food court to get to the back of the mall. through the smudgy, glassy exterior, you could see steve’s face illuminated by the lights in his BMW. you took a calming, deep breath as you pushed through the doors. steve’s windows were open; you could hear music coming out (you could swear that it was the talking heads). you smiled unconsciously at his choice. maybe somewhere along the line, in between dusty, rotting alternate dimensions and “placid” morning car rides, he’d listened when you blabbered on about your favorite band.

he heard you approaching and suddenly straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “hey, cherry,” he said breathily. “hi,” you said plainly, still suspicious about this whole meetup. “i just want to say that i’m sorry,” he said. you looked at him unimpressed; after all, he did have quite a few things to apologize for.

“for that night, at the halloween party.” you caught his eyes when your head snapped to your left, a wide, pained look mirrored in your own irises. your silence scared him — he’d expected more yelling. he deserved it. he huffed out a tiny sigh, before speaking again: “i missed you. i missed having you around because cherry, i don’t hate you. i really don’t. our little arguments or whatever? those were the best part of my day. and then they stopped because i fucked up.”

you smiled at that, and he mirrored it: the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. he laughed a little, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you and how i missed the smell of your cinnamon gum in my car.” your eyes were softer now, glistening with something between a kind forgiveness and an inkling of playfulness. “and then we got thrown into the upside down and didn’t really get to talk about it since, y’know, we could’ve died at any moment? and then i found myself still missing you, because all that wildness wasn’t enough.”

you let the sentence hang in the air before telling him, “i missed you too, harrington.”

you’d barely noticed that you and steve were drifting closer and closer together. you felt little puffs from his plump lips brush over your own pout. “cherry-” he started. “steve,” you pleaded, hands spreading across his chest. he pulled back a little, grabbing your hand gently when he saw hurt flash over your features. “i just want you to know that i’m not looking for anything serious.”

oh. of course.

he sucked in a breath through his teeth as your face hardened into steely ire. “i really loved nancy. i can’t get over her that quickly.” you pulled your hand from his. “but cherry, i can’t stop thinking about you. and that night, god. i just keep thinking about what i would’ve done to you if we hadn’t stopped.”

something heavy settled in the pit of your stomach, the feeling making its way into your core.

“show me,” you said.

he smiled that harrington smile before slotting his lips against yours again — deeper, frenzied, hungry, like he wanted to pull the taste of cherry-almond swirl from your mouth.

(“show me,” you had said. what you really meant was, “i’ll take any part of you that i can get.”)

you felt him harden in his jeans, his cock pressing up against the rigid seams. he hissed as you trailed your hand down his chest, toward his bulge. you looked up at him, eyes glittering and so sinfully innocent. you pressed a kiss over where his arousal was evident and his eyes rolled back in his head. “cherry, baby, honey. i could cum in my pants if you touch me like that one more time.” you smiled at that, delicate hands palming him gently, kissing his neck a pretty sea of pinks and reds, and reaching toward his zipper. “jesus, fuck. cherry,” he rasped as he pulled your head off of him by the back of your pretty locks. your neck was craned back as you looked into his dark hazel eyes. “are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked with a taunting lilt to his throaty voice. you nodded. he smirked. “words, cherry.” “yes, i’ll be your good girl, steve,” you said, hands already wandering, mouth watering at the thought of his scent, his cock, anything — all over you. he tutted at your ministrations, pulling you off of him once again. “good girls listen to directions,” he said, lips twitching into a smirk.

“bad girls don’t get to cum.”

his hand that was holding your head had changed position, reaching to grasp your chin between his fingers, squishing your cheeks a little.

“do you think you’ve been a good girl, cherry?”

you mumbled out a soft “no” around the restriction of his fingers.

he kissed you after you answered, a soft, plush press of his lips against yours. you tilted your head forward to get more from his mouth, more from him. but he pulled away and you whined. “you’ve been bad, cherry. so now i’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth,” he growled as your thighs clenched. it didn’t go unnoticed, and steve was not-so-secretly proud of himself that he got you flustered. “and if you touch yourself, you will be punished. got it?” he said, cementing his rules in you. at the talk of punishment, steve sobered up for a second.

“what’s our safeword gonna be, princess?”

“starcourt?” you suggested. he smiled.

“perfect. now, if you let me fuck your mouth and use you as my little cocksleeve, maybe you can cum,” he said so sweetly, as if he needed to wrap you around his finger more. you suckled at his neck as you unzipped his jeans, tugging impatiently to get them off. your mouth watered at the thought of his cock; it was probably pretty and red and leaking — all for you. his boxers were next. his cock sprang out of the confines of his boxers, slapping the leaking tip onto his stomach. he exhaled as the cooler air of the car hit his shaft. he held out his palm to you as you admired his length. “spit,” he commanded. you tucked your hair behind your ears and did as he instructed. he took his hand and used your spit to slick up his member. you only just realized just how big it was, biting your lip nervously. he noticed, of course. “what’s wrong, angel?” he said, reaching toward you to rub your lower back gently. “is it gonna fit in my mouth?” you pouted. you wanted it to. like, really wanted it to. he glowed at your innocent question. “it will eventually, baby. maybe not today, but someday soon.” his words seemed to comfort you and you happily took over stroking his shaft with your spit. he threw his head back against the headrest. “fuck, cherry. s’much better than i imagined. so much better.” now it was your turn to glow, thinking about steve fucking his fist in the shower, in his bed, to the thought of you, his childhood enemy. your body felt warm all over and so you took a leap, sponging an experimental peck onto his reddened tip. his hips jolted forward at your touch, causing your eyes to widen and you to pull back. “shit. sorry, honey. just can’t get enough of you,” he said with a gentle stroke to your head. “s’okay, stevie,” you replied sweetly, “wanna make you feel good.” you then bravely dove forward and slotted your mouth over his cock, swirling your tongue around the head and gagging as you took as much of him as you could. his eyes rolled back into his head and he threaded his fingers through your hair. “holy shit, cherry,” he said, “so good. so wet, so warm f’me.” once you figured out how to breathe through your nose, you slowly started bobbing your head up and down. you hollowed out your cheeks, stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth (yet). on one of your little moves, your teeth grazed the underside of his cock, where a vein bulged. he hissed and you felt more precum spurt from his tip. you ran your tongue over it to soothe the sting your teeth left, worried that you’d made a mistake. but the unmistakable “fuck, just like that, cherry” from above you was enough to reassure you.

you pulled off for a breather, pressing wet, sloppy kisses up and down his length as you recovered. he was just about to ask if you were okay before you took initiative again, taking him further down your throat this time. he gasped and moaned and whimpered and you were in heaven. you were surrounded by him: his musk, his heavy balls gently held in your hands, the hard muscle of his thick, hairy thighs trapping your head. “can i hold your head, angel?” he asked you, ever so gently. you nodded while keeping yourself latched onto his cock, the heavy weight on your tongue oddly comforting. he gently grasped the back of your hair in one hand before thrusting his hips into your mouth, feeding his cock into your warm, wanton mouth. you gagged a little in surprise, but steve held your hair tighter and told you to just relax your throat. at his words, you did (well, you tried with a little whine), and he slipped in further. the spit that had gathered at the corners of your lips started to spill over as you attempted to take him all the way. you hadn’t expected yourself to be getting this wet over him getting off, but here you were, making a mess of your cotton panties as you sputtered choked, eyes glossy from tears. your throbbing pussy was visible through the sheerness of the fabric that your wetness had left. you pressed your thighs together to garner some relief for your poor pulsating cunt, but you remembered that if you were good, you’d get to cum too.

steve was thrusting into your mouth now, enraptured by the warmth of your wet tongue and swollen lips — the same mouth that he dreamed about kissing almost every night. he moaned above you at the sight of your spit-slicked lips, how your eyes were wide and dumb as he fucked your throat. "holy shit, cherry. my perfect little slut, such a good little whore f'me," he panted. you locked eyes with steve as his dick rapidly plunged in and out of your tight throat and at your heated gaze, he was cumming. hot, salty ropes hit the back of your throat. you made a little noise of satisfaction, humming around his shaft as your mouth filled with his seed. steve shot one last load into your mouth, groaning out your name — your real name — and collapsing, almost boneless in his seat. you pulled your mouth off of him, swallowing his load and giving the still-flushed head a soft kiss. he tasted salty and woody. you felt syrupy slick rush out of your fluttering hole at the taste left on your tongue. he ran a hand through his hair, cheeks red, still breathing heavily. “open your mouth,” he said, looking at you and tapping your cheek lightly. you did as he asked and stuck out your tongue for good measure. he gave a pleased hum when he saw your tongue dart out to lick a little bit of his seed that was left on the corner of your mouth. “good girl. you swallowed,” he said. you burned at his praise. "thank you, stevie," you said shyly. he bent down to sprinkle kisses across your face.

your cheeks glowed with arousal as his hand gently gripped the back of your neck, casually keeping you in the palm of his hand. he slanted his mouth over yours, swiping his tongue over your own and hummed when he tasted a remnant of himself in your waiting mouth. you smiled into the kiss, the vibrations tickling your pretty pout. he pulled back, his eyes and lips shining. suddenly he was pushing a hand through his hair and checking himself out in his rearview mirror. you looked at him, mouth pursed in confusion and discomfort at the pressure between your legs. “steve,” you whined. “what’s up, cherry baby?” he said as he gently buckled you in. “don’t i get to cum? i was so good,” you begged, grabbing his bicep between his smaller palms. the polyester of his scoops uniform shifted under your pawing hands as he extended his arm behind your headrest, tendons flexing as he reversed out of the parking lot.

“you were a good girl, but only after you had my cock in your mouth.”

so that was it? he wasn’t going to get you to your release? your mouth fell agape and you detached yourself from the boy, sliding back in your seat and watching hawkins speed by.

suddenly, you were pulling up to your house. your parents had left the foyer light on, keeping the entryway to your house bathed in its soft brilliance. it felt like déjà vu; you, flustered and exiting steve’s car after he’s been an asshole to you — yet again.

you resolved to never see him again as you cursed yourself for thinking he’d changed. but this time, he gently tugged you to him, saying your name quietly, and lifting your chin up to tilt your precious face toward his. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, one that filled the small space of his car with your deep inhale. you decided that this was your favorite kiss with him that you’d ever had. you looked at him with little hearts in your eyes as he smoothed your wildly messy hair back. he smiled at you, gently purring “don’t you dare touch yourself tonight.” you opened your mouth defiantly at his orders. he shushed you with a quick kiss to the corner of your lips that left you wanting more. “i’ll know if you do,” he said with a wink.

and you knew that you’d definitely be seeing him again.

you did cum that next day. three times to be exact; once on his fingers, once in his mouth, and once on his cock. he’d looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, asking you if he'd made it up to you. you nodded blearily, desperate to get his tongue on your hot core once again.

but whatever summer love, saying “us” moments you had, had very quickly become much deeper. you knew you were in deep shit when you realized you two were playing house after a sleepover at steve’s. you’d walked downstairs to see him swaying gently, nursing a cup of coffee in his boxers. you were wearing one of his old basketball t-shirts: sun-faded and soft and steve. he gave you a lazy smile as he dropped a kiss on your mouth, tasting of the vanilla creamer he swore he kept around “just for you, cherry. that shit’s disgusting.” you wrapped your arms around him; he sighed against your mouth as your fingertips began to rub his lower back with such care, such sweetness. “morning, stevie,” you said through a delicate yawn. ““mm mornin’ cherry,” he said, dipping down to leave a smattering of kisses across your neck and clavicle as you held each other in the sun-soaked kitchen. you silently wished to yourself that the two of you would stay like this, preserved in a memory forever. that you wouldn’t have to return to the world where you “hated” each other. that you could live together in a house of your own, with your own rich coffee scent filling the ground floor, without the upside down. your eyes snapped open at your wandering thoughts. no, you told yourself, it's steve. of course he ate you out on the kitchen floor before bending you over the counter. and of course, in the afterglow as you laid atop the cool tile, you just had to realize that you loved steve harrington.

“always so good f’me,” he rumbled, tracing his blunt nails on your back, raising goosebumps on his path. you looked into his cinnamon eyes, absorbing the ring of mossy green around his irises.

“anything for you, stevie,” you cooed, putting a veil of satin over your voice to mask the churning of your emotions.

“careful, cherry. i might start thinking that you’ve got a crush on me.”

oh, he had no idea.

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[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

feyre is adult and mature enough to manage her emotions, she not a child, she is perfectly able to stand-up and put her foot down. and she has - on multiple occasions retorted and fought back against her sisters - to consistently pretend feyre is a child who needs rhys to cosign and stand body-guard when feyre is perfectly able to do it herself says so much abt those 'stans' than they are willing to admit.

that part right there. print it, frame it, put it on a wall.

and a point about the intervention, i think sjm forgot that she’s only been fae for 2 years, and living in velaris for 1 year and a half (i think). feyre doesn’t know the social norms of prythian or velaris. she judges what is socially unacceptable based on what rhys deems is socially unacceptable. it’s why she rationalizes condemning nesta for spending 500 gold coins like it would send her husband into bankruptcy. her telling nesta that her behavior was embarrassing them isn’t solely because feyre genuinely believed that, it was rhys who found it embarrassing (nesta was not under his control) and feyre has to learn societal norms from him because he’s the older one, and act accordingly. it’s not even the fact that nesta spent money, it where and what she spent it on. nesta bought alcohol, so do the ic. but she does it in places they decide undignified for somebody associated with them:

“You know Elain wouldn’t feel comfortable in a place like this.” She arched a well-groomed brow. “A place like this? What sort of place is that?” Indeed, some people were turning our way. High Lady—I was High Lady. Insulting this place and the people in it wouldn’t win me any supporters.”

acofas, ch. 13

feyre has to take cues from them, from rhys because she’s practically an infant by fae standards. like srsly, she’s closer in age (and always will be) to her child than she is to her husband and so-called ‘friends’

You’re right, Feyre stans are rarely just Feyre stans.

hi anon!

yep! this was specifically solidified for me after silver flames came out. feyre stans have been conditioned to always validate rhysand's intention over feyre's opinion. again - feyre has established that she:

(1) does not want rhysand to speak about her sisters in a disrespectful manner. feyre validates rhysand emotions about her sisters - meaning she isn't saying (and im not saying) that rhysand doesn't have a right to feel a certain way about her sisters. but that rhysand's feelings should not manifest in jabs and disrespectful words:

“Rhys said smoothly, “I’m not entirely sure Velaris is prepared for Nesta Archeron.” “My sister’s not some feral animal,” I snapped. Rhys recoiled a bit, the others suddenly finding the carpet, the divan, the books incredibly fascinating. “I didn’t mean that.”

feyre to rhysand.

“So she keeps saying, over and over,” Amren grumbled. I shot her a glare. “Careful.”

feyre to amren.

that's a boundary being set - clear as day. feyre does not approve or condone outright disrespect of her sisters. this has nothing to do with how we believe xyz or what rhys has a right to do, but what feyre has established as a no go.

(2) that she does not feel comfortable with rhysand being overly protective, to the point he withholds information, is overly violent, or conflicts with her wants:

“It’s hard to shut down my instincts.” Instincts. Just like … like someone else had instincts to protect, to hide me away. “Then you should have prepared yourself better,” I snapped. “You seemed to be going along just fine with it, until Keir said—”

rhys to feyre; feyre to rhys (acomaf)

(3)feyre doesn't care about instincts (as is an excuse used in sf), here she is telling rhys straight up that he needs to prepare himself better. bc she DOES NOT feel comfortable with the way rhys expressed his frustration. and again feyre is sympathetic to his reasonings, but she does not believe his intentions (in this case) justify the way he chooses to go about these things.

“I craned my neck to look up at him. “Never lie to me again. Not about that.”

feyre to rhys (acowar)

(4) again - feyre establishing a boundary. never lie to her about anything, especially important things.

feyre (and also fucking amren) also establishes that she doesn't believe that keeping her sisters couped up in the house of wind to be productive or helpful:

“If you want to start convincing your sisters, get them out of the House. Being cooped up never helped anyone.”

amren to feyre (acowar)

and nesta has established to rhys that she wants no interest in cassian:

“Nesta had made it clear enough she had no interest in Cassian—not even in being in the same room as him. I knew why. I’d seen it happen, had felt that way plenty.”

rhysand to az (acofas)

feyre also establishes - to rhys - that her she knows her sisters don't do well with public humiliation, and making a scene:

“ “I shouldn’t have asked her in public. I made a mistake.” and “I loosed a long sigh. “I should have considered that telling strangers what happened to her in Hybern might … might not be something she was comfortable with. My sister has been a private person her entire life, even amongst us.”

feyre to rhys (acowar).

im saying allll of this to say that in sf - rhysand literally takes all of these boundaries and shits on them. even his creation of the intervention conflicits against what feyre establishes: (1) her sister is a private person, and will not respond well to public humilation (2) nesta wants nothing to do with cassian (3) her sisters are not healty being in the house of wind and (4) feyre wants to be looped in and considered every step of the way. even the act of creating an intervention that goes so instinctively against feyre's wishes is an act of deep disrespect. that feyre stans can see these moments and still justify them bc their hatred for nesta and obsession w/ rhys trumps their 'love' for feyre. its a conditional like. here feyre is the victim and instead of writing metas and ff about feyre being done dirty by rhysand - they flock to justify rhysand's point to the point where they're willing to ignore feyre's opinions. its not abt how much we like / dislike the sisters. but how rhys's behavior conflicts against feyre's wants and boundaries. its about how those feyre stans would rather validate rhys then stand by feyre's emotions. to imply that rhysand's actions were appropriate means u place his actions above feyre.

feyre is adult and mature enough to manage her emotions, she not a child, she is perfectly able to stand-up and put her foot down. and she has - on multiple occasions retorted and fought back against her sisters - to consistently pretend feyre is a child who needs rhys to cosign and stand body-guard when feyre is perfectly able to do it herself says so much abt those 'stans' than they are willing to admit.

like feyre was able to face down tamlin - her abuser - all by her damn self. she's not some child who needs people to consistently defend her by undermining her opinions. if she wanted rhys to be an asshole to nesta - we would have saw that. instead we got this:

“That’s enough,” Feyre snapped at Rhys. “I told you to keep out of it.” He dragged his star-flecked eyes to his mate, and it was all Nesta could do to keep from collapsing onto the couch as her knees gave out at last. Feyre angled her head, nostrils flaring, and said to Rhysand, “You can either leave, or you can stay and keep your mouth shut.”

we got feyre telling rhys and amren that she did not want them to behave that way. and even after that. both rhys and amren continue ignoring feyre's requests. feyre is not respected - these are not the actions of people who respect her as an equal. she's a child to them , and they believe they know better.

idk - if i were a feyre stan- yall would never have shut me up if my fav was treated like a doormat and sidelined. i would have been writing scathing metas on rhys and the ic. - i wouldve been explaining exactly why rhys withholding information was wrong - not just vaguely saying he was wrong and then justifying why he did it. i would have been an amren hater #1 for how she continually undermined feyre. idk...yall are not real feyre shooters. like damn your fav is catching strays by the author and the readers and you're only focused on how nesta factors into that equation?? like youve got bigger problems to worry abt here. feyre has been continually and consistently phased out of her own story by the author and that don't bother yall? hmm couldnt be me tho.

[obscureblorbos]

König NSFW Headcanons

This imagine was brought to you by: All of you sick freaks who REALLY liked an idea that should've stayed in my head. Love y'all <3

Contents: 18+, third person, gender neutral insert, primal play, knife play, size kink, D/s (on both sides)

A/N: srsly though holy shit i wasn't expecting so many people to like my post. like,, 500 NOTES?? that's the most i've ever gotten on any of my blogs. i swear y'all encourage me to write the most deprived things on this site

As I've said in my previous post, whether he Doms or subs depends on who wins. This can range from a typical struggle for dominance, to going out into the woods for a "hunt". The chase during the latter is the most fun part. Just the thought of it leaves him anxious to find his prey. No matter his role, though, he's jittery from start to finish

Often uses names like "hase" and "maus" during these activities

König roughhouses quite a bit in these scenes. As much as he likes subbing/bottoming, he does not intend on making it easy for his partner to achieve that part of him. Neither person is leaving the scene without at least 3 bite marks and a couple nicks.

Likes to cut off his prey's clothing and use it as makeshift restraints

He can sometimes get too excited and carried away, which is why he makes sure they both remember the safeword beforehand

For sure has a size kink. The man's almost 7 ft tall, so he towers over everyone. He loves how easily he can overpower his S/O with this stature alone. His fingers can reach places they probably couldn't, and he can switch positions however he likes — use them however he likes. The momentary fear that he might actually break them makes him shudder with taboo excitement. Don't even get me started on watching them struggle to take his length-

That being said, it gets him so riled up when his smaller partner can pin him down and take what they want from him. Straddle his torso and point a knife at him, and soon enough his gnashing and growling will fade into pathetic whimpering. At some point he learns to just give in and be their victim

Overall, there's something about the mutual "You're alive because I allow it" dynamic that really sparks a flame in him

König is the type to poke and prod at his partner when he's in a certain (bratty) mood. Like he'll genuinely piss them off sometimes, and when they finally tell him to shut up, he uses his large frame to corner them

"And what happens if I don't?"

Also really enjoys praise. Being called a "good boy" makes shivers run up his spine. Internally, he wants to drop to his knees and do whatever his S/O desires at the mere slip of those magic words, but usually decides not to in favor of playing hard-to-get

Curses in German in the heat of the moment

A mean top. He likes to tease and demean his S/O, and makes them earn everything he does to them. He gets off on his sub begging for his touch — telling him how much they need him

I say he likes to tease, but that's only half true. König enjoys the tension that comes from saying and doing certain things, and playfully getting himself in trouble. However, he does not have enough patience for orgasm denial or edging. He can only tolerate one instance before ramming into his partner, regardless of what role he was meant to be in

Words of affirmation are essential during aftercare — giving and receiving. He needs reassurance that his partner doesn't mean all the nasty things they've said and done — that there was no real hatred behind that. He's often on edge when it comes to being vulnerable at any capacity, so praise gives him some momentary peace of mind. He extends the same treatment to his partner, since his type of play as a Dom isn't far off from what he does in battle

[winking]

i’m fantasizing abt getting the iphone x 🤤🤤

[justsomeboredgirl]

one piece 1041

disclaimer : im sharing this for fun and not to ruin anyone’s day with spoilers also one piece belong to odacchi

SPOILERS!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

the cover tho HAHAHAHAHA!! you go girl! i love that pudding is representing us and punch sanji’s assholes brother

WE DIDN;T LEARN ANYTHING ABOUT ZUNESHA???? ODA??? HELLO???? “oden tore out the most crucial pages” HELLO???????? I THOUGHT WE’RE GETTING SOME BACKSTORY HERE

“what made oden and roger laughed at the final island” THAT’S WHAT WE WANNA KNOW TOO DAMMIT!!!! WE’VE BEEN HANGIN FOR LIKE 500+ CHAPTERS ODA PLEASE

OROCHI’S GOING DOWN MUAHAHAHHAHA GO HIYORI!! srsly, in your fuckin face orochi! komurasaki is oden’s daughter MUAHAHA

FUCKIN IZOU GOD I LOVE HIM

5 elders ordered cp0 to eliminate strawhats luffy, and considering the chapter with im-sama, what if it was a direct order from im-sama????? what if im-sama decided to erase another history, and this time it’s luffy?? im so scared holy shit

cp0 being scared shitless to interfere a battle between kaido and luffy hahahahha

FRANKY CAUGHT ZORO EVERYOEN!! HE’S GONNA LIVE OR THERE WILL BE ACTUAL RIOT 

“the name’s linlin, im the woman who will rule these seas” big mom is so bold, i like it

weeping drunk kaido lmao

FINALLY LUFFY’S GOING TO BEAT KAIDO GUYS

“your dreams made the people of this country starve!!!” LUFFY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SOBS

the best part is : THERE WILL BE NO BREAK NEXT WEEK

conclusion:

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

SIKES! PART 2!! the dr will be here until the heat death of the universe babes. trekkie plans postponed indefinitely.

gallifrey vibes

water is life…

her name is.... brindle slkdfjdlkjfldkjflksdjfdskfjd COMBO BREAKER

so much death that literally memory is dying. oof. the Social Commentary of that

(bet the man was the master)

a city that began with a b… ???barcelona??

diamonds! bingo check!

a SPOON. cry. this is so doctor who. 12/7 approved.

"and i forgot" oof. "from child to mother" oof

universal broadcast moment!!! check!!!

MEL CUDDLING WITH THE QUESTION MARK SWEATER . i CRY

"cultural appropriation" sdlkjfs well at least we're aware of it

ruby like pls doktah im so tired of watching the fucking pyramids of mars.again. dont u have anything else. dont u have some eccleston in there.

(maybe the rogue's ship is a memory ship as wlel?) bc of all the random props)

"best time of my life" t.t

sutekh driven crazy bc she doesnt know the secrets. relatable.

"you are absolutely human" mmmmmm

("it's keeping us alive bc it wants to know the awnsers" the meta of "the gods are the writers torturing the humans" intesifies")

oh noooooooooooooooo not melanieee

JACK!!!!!!!! SDLKJFDSLK OHH THE DOCTOR CANT LOOK AT THE FORBIDDEN LOST EPISODE

IM SCREAMING IM SO INTO THIS

compulsory dna testing for the whole population sdkljfsdk that sounds… worse than nukes ngl??????

"love a whistle" eyebrow raise

omg all the tardis keyssss

"but guess who invented the security" hehe. mel's smile at that-

"sutekh's servants could be anywhere" badum psss

(i think 15 knows?)

tliteral tv remote moment again……………….

"i loved you mel" "what good did love do, doctor? when did it eve help?

mel is playing him. she has to be. pulling a 4th doctor.

damn look at that bling. fashionable dog

mom???????? YESss- oH NEVERMIND

dslkfjsdlkfjsdfsdf

a-ha! i knew he knew!

haha. get great big fuckoff laser'd. bitch.

FIFTEENTH'S THEME YEES

(oh everything working out but there's still 20+ minutes. one fear)

sdlfkjsdlkfjdsfsdf get yanked bitch

(and this is what rtd wanted donna and fourteen to go through in the title sequence???? slkfjdklf)

DEATH + DEATH = LIFE. YEAH WHY NOT THIS MAY AS WELL HAPPEN

double negatives save the day. reverse the polatiy of the death flow.

GENERAL IS ALIVE YESSSS

carlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! cherry!!! mrs flood you can go on to be creepy yesssss

kate holding hands w/ ibrahim? oh? sdlkfjsd rip ibrahim x general guy otp???

why am i crying about brindle's mom wtf . T.T

in fighting mosnters we mus tbe careful not to become monsters,,,

"i am the one that brings death" oof. metal.

still 14 minutes left mmm

kate wtf. stop hiring everyone u see wtf lkdsjsdfkjlfd

YOUR GRAN WAS TELLING ME OFF FOR NOT DUSTING

"you brought her home" TOT

IT'S HER IT'S KRISTEN TYLER FROM THE CHIPS STORE

she's a nurse"!!!

"she was important because we think she was important" bro im weeping wtf. wtf

rtd u did it again u bastard

i cry t.t

um ok but there's still 10 minutes left….

hahaha. dont touch the baby rooose realness

ohhh 15 like "im pointless now" moment????

500 HUNDRED PHOTOS

ruby dressed as david bowie omg

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa T.T

"of course you will" next season babe!!

bitch he didnt say. HE DIDNT SYA IT BACK. WHERES THE FUCKING THERAPY NOW FSDJFSD

iris? iris??? IRIS??? IRIS??????????? MRS WILDTHYME??????

"doctor who will return" bitcH WHEN

CONCLUSIONS!!

bro idek i cried so much. im distraught. NO MORE NEW ODCCY WHO UNTIL... DECEMBER (???). HOW WILL I LIVE. anyway. 1 take between my tears: this is always the most athesit way u can do "gods are real" storytelling and i love that about russel's style srsly. really need to watch the second coming sdlkfj but from what i've heard it is literally this. and also in torchwood and nuwho obvs. we made the gods, not the opposite. our lives are important bc we make them so, not for any instrinsinc thing. and also connects to ~storytelling theming bc we are all stories in the ~~end. but if we're lucky ppl will still think of us and keep us alive. bc "memory is a time machine"..... anyway. cool ep. back to crying.

empire of death thoughts+reactions part 1

previously onnnn (super short sdlkfj)

HOP ON, COWBOY

sdlkjs morris a literal 13 year old having guns on his lil' scooter thing.is UNIT ok.

omg even the vlinx TOT

the birds will sings again!!!!!!

dust of death mmm delicious alliteration

"im sorry there's nothing we can do. we're dead" vibes

loving this action sequence ngl

WATCHA TALKING ABOUT

maybe is not [insert character]. maybe mrs flood is just an old lady who is Like This.

"my true name" "ur true maker" whats her true maker if not RTD!!! / clowning

"we've got worse problems" that's gonna come back to bite him skdfljdskl

does anyone remember the clara / 1 paintdoktahwho comic "dont take that one. take the tv"

thats what im thinking ot

(askdjlad UGH my iplayer stopped so i refreshed and while skipping to the place i think i spoiled my self for susan ?? TOT sutpid internet stupid preview skipping thumbnail function grrrr) im not a tardis smasher in general but the memory tardis….. would. maybe

"remember it harder" i would be a useless companion here tbh. memory of a goldfish.i would doom the earth.

IT'S A TV SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT'S TELLING THE STORY OF YOUR LIFE

I MADE A JIGSAW OF YOUR HISTORY SDKLFJSLKJF

AAAAAGHHH

sdflkdfj sutekh spining in the vortex. 2 cute

the temple……….. tardis as the thing in the hill meta INTENSIFIES

"so many secrest" um TIMELESS CHILD FUGITIVE MEMORIES FOBWATCH????

oh ok i jut got spoiled for the clip OF susan sdlkfjdskl FALSE ALARM FOLKS

"never yours again, never"

my angels of death………………..

"i find that good" i feel they did this same exact phrasing once for a "death is beautiful" monster like this but i cant remember which story?

also, flux? flux anyone? 13 vs entropy itself?

"i am an extinction event" OOF

(oh this clicks on why the doctor clings sm to living / immortality despite how much it hurts)

memory is a time machine TOT idk but that Hits Harder

"sutes" dlkjfslfk cute

"and doesnt it feel good?" holy shit

yayy mel's not dead yet

MEL GRABBING SIX'S COAT IM FINEIM FINE IM FINE

(idk why but that's what's made me cry slkfjsd)

"ruby roo" sdkljsfd

lasdkj if a regular tardis is 6 people driven then a memory tardis is probably meant to be piloted by every single doctor and companion ever

"meleanie b" TOT (doctor trait unlocked: when 15 is stressed he intensifies on the cutsey nicknames)

CHEKOV'S INGELLITEN GLOVE !!!!! damn i thought for a second about putting that on my bingo card but didnt skldfj

i like that the subtext of "when disaster comes, he's there" / "the tardis is an ommen of death" & "he has one constant companion… death" isn't literally being stated as being "sutekh did it lol" lol cause that would feel a lil cheap. i think instead rtd took a smarter choices of keeping that subtext, but keeping it that stricly speaking what sutekh did was just putting the susan copies everywhere.

73 yards……………

omg wait so in a memory tardis u can remmeber anything to existence………….. what if heiimagines susan at the end

(MOLECULAR BOND ROGUE CALL BACK?)

73 yards…………. HOW DO U KNOW THAT. I JUST DO. SHE'S JUST GOOD AT CONVERTING UNITS DAMN. LET RUBY BE GOOD AT UNIT CONVERSIONS DOCTOR.

ohh wait so this connects perception filters and 73 yards. put on a pin on that (and presumably……. taking down the perception filter is what happened re: ruby? that's why people ran away? people saw beyond her perception filter to the elderitch abomination bellow?)

"you've landed on earth a 100th times" is probably a huuude understimation lol

"she was reborn stronger each time. this monumental figure" dr. who as a cultural institution meta

shots outside the tardis my beloved

1999….. the movie... 2005 …. obvious. 1066 was the fire of london right? with 5?

this is rlly working for me ngl. dr who is all about death meta but it's literal but it's not

and a lso the whole. when u are a time traveler everyone is already dead. we must be like ghosts to u . etc etc

telos… THE OOD SPHERE noooo

mel being like "well…. at least 1% of the universe is fine. that's all right then" .

this |5 "it's all my fault" beat feels a lil' weird until u remember [all the traumas] / flux trauma and then it's like yeah i getchu doc i too take everything bad that happens as proof that it is my fault even tho, factually, it makes no sense as a reaction. trauma/depression girlies united.

THE SUN IS DEAD. rip 42's sun.

omg thank u sutekh for finally fixing that over-blue colorization in the unit set. not all heroes wear capes tbh.

aaaand the end.

fade to black.

doctor who is done! we can all go home and become trekkies everybody. congrats!

[drwcn]

follow up to [post] exploring the crack au if lwj was a girl 

〒▽〒 ps im not trying to erase canon lwj representation, not at all, wangxian is mm in all my other fics, this is just stupid fun

in a ceteris paribus situation aka all other things staying equal: 

1) Lan Wangji 100% still has a resting bitch face, which probably would get her a couple of “Lan-er-guniang 美若天仙 (beautiful as an immortal/goddess) but would benefit from smiling more” comments but nobody is that desperate to die yet so, she’s spared. But damn... imagine the sheer number of thirsty boys who’d try to secure a marriage with LWJ. None of them is good enough for Wangji as far as Lan Xichen is concerned. Okay - maybe in Lan Xichen’s opinion, Nie Mingjue is good enough, but he couldn’t be less interested. I see her as I see Huaisang, Xichen please. 

2) Everything interaction between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in Wei Wuxian’s first life is now 500% more scandalous. 

Exhibit A) Their first meeting at the gates; Jiang Cheng immediately felt his spidey senses tingling.  —“You’d sooner have immortals flying out of your ass than get with someone like her. The second jade of Gusu? The pearl in old man Lan’s eyes? C’mon.”  —“Shut up, A-Cheng.” —“Uh-huh.”  —“Also, she’s not that pretty. Her brother Zewu-jun is much better. There’s a reason he’s ranked first.” WWX is still a disaster bi.  — “LMAO, you? Zewu-jun? Please.” 

Exhibit B) Just because LWJ is a girl does not mean WWX grew more brain cells. 

WWX, straight up to Lan Qiren’s face, “Lan-meimei and I - we’re zhiji.” (he means it like we’re kindred spirits, peas of a pod, etc)  LWJ: *does not deny* Lan Xichen: ⚆_⚆ Lan Qiren: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Exhibit C) Lan Wangji getting drunk the first time. Wei Wuxian knew he crossed a line the minute he invited Lan-er-guniang for a drink. Really, WWX, even for you, this is inappropriate. When Lan Wangji fell face first onto the table, Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up. “Hey....hey...Lan....Lan...-er-guniang,” He poked her. “Don’t...don’t sleep here! You can’t sleep here! If your Uncle finds out or if Jiang-shushu finds out...they’ll skin me alive and then...and then they’ll make me marry you! I don’t want to marry you; you don’t talk and I’m too young!” 

WWX, being a dipshit, “Hey Lan Zhan, call me Wei-gege.”  LWJ, drunk as fuck, “Wei..gege.”  WWX *((( heart )))* ??? 

Exhibit D) The Cold Pond. Okay, so I don’t think Zewu-jun would sabotage his sister’s virtue by sending a stupid teenage boy her way while she’s bathing, but doesn’t mean Su She is above all that. Wei “I didn’t see anything I swear!” Wuxian. Lan “I will gouge out your eyes.” Wangji. Somehow they still end up in the cave. Maybe WWX got in the water after LWJ got out and got sucked into the vortex and LWJ heard the commotion, turned around, saw WWX had disappeared. “Wei Ying?!” A panicked LWJ jumps back into the pond, “Stop fooling around, come out!” 

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing 👀👀 when LWJ and WWX fall out of the cave together. Also the fact that Lan-er-guniang and Wei-gongzi went missing, together, for two days. Who knows what could’ve happened. I mean anything really. I mean... that’s gotta stir the pot a little were it not for the Yin Iron stealing everyone’s attention away from this bit of juicy scandal. 

Oh the whole story... so much to work with, so little time. 

3) Because Lan Wangji is a girl, now suddenly there’s a high ranking member of the Lan Clan who can host the girls at Cloud Recesses. I mean, Mianmian, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Lan Wangji - SISTERLY FRIENDSHIP. Other than Mianmian, none of the girls are really talkers which suits Lan Wangji perfectly. Even Mianmian’s chatter is endearing.

4) Lan Wangji is absolutely still a powerhouse during the Sunshot Campaign. The inherent aesthetics of fem!lwj telling the Wen goons to “kneel” - no one will deprive me of this.  Also she will still cut off your arm if you cross her - Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao ya better watch out still. 

I am TORN between two options: Lan Wangji tol and kickass or Lan Wangji smol and kickass. On one hand, the aesthetics of willowy elf-like LWJ, on the other hand, 5′2′’ of whoop ass who can and will throw an unconscious wwx over her shoulder firewoman-style and toll him to safety.  

And amongst other things: 

A) Lan Wangji still becomes Chief Cultivator, because excuse me who else is left to clean up this mess? Jiang “Short-fuse” Wanyin? Nie “I won’t do what I’m not intended to do” Huaisang? Jin “13 year-old” Ling? Or Sect Leader Yao?  Technically, being a woman means that she was never Lan Xichen’s heir, but at the end of it, it’s not like Gusu Lan is left with a lot of choices.  Just the poetic justice of Gusu Lan pleading for Lan Wangji to come back when she fully intends to 隐居山野 (retreat into the mountains) with the resurrected WWX.

Lan Wangji being Chief Cultivator would echo Lan Yi’s tenure and rectify the fact that Gusu Lan’s only female head of family “failed”. Lan Yi had to face a mountain of prejudice because she was woman; someone has to say “up yours” to that. A woman as not only the sect master of Gusu Lan but the Chief Cultivator? Love that for Gusu Lans. (⌐■_■) ☞ ☞

B) Because of ~ sexism ~ I wonder if Lan Wangji would get titled “Hanguang” at all even after the Sunshot Campaign. Even Lan Yi, the SL Lan of her time didn’t have a title. Chances are LWJ won’t either. (Note: Violet Spider is not a title, it’s a moniker). So — say after the way Lan Wangji is still just “Lan-er-guniang”, and she does not obtain the title “Han Guang” until after she leaves Cloud Recesses and become rogue. (srsly how did they come up with these titles in canon, did gusu lan just look at 21 year old lwj and be like yah he’s lord light bearer *cue trevor noah stand up joke* why do you call yourself “great” britain? isn’t that a bit presumptuous? shouldn’t you go around doing good things and then let other people come to the conclusion: oh britain look how great you are? same logic with lwj.) 

Lan Wangji, a Jade of Gusu or a nameless rogue, still goes where trouble is, helping those who need it. After laying low for a year or two to heal, Lan Wangji began night hunting. Donned neck to ankle in white silk and tulle, and a weimao (wide brimmed veil hat) obscuring her face, she became known to the people as Hanguang Sanren, the lightbearing wanderer. Gusu’s highest power probably has some idea who she is - or at least they can guess - but the vast majority of people don’t. 

C) Lan Sizhui raised by rogue Lan Wangji as his mum would be different. Still cultured, respectful, but definitely with an air of keeping others at arm’s length. 

For instance, grown-up Sizhui running interference and saving a cohort of gentry disciples on joint hunts.

Jingyi: 这人谁呀？Who is this guy? Zizhen: 多谢兄台搭救之恩，小可看您眼生，敢问兄台尊姓大名，何门何派，改日当登门拜访. Many thanks for saving us. I don’t believe we’ve met, pray tell what is your name and sect, so we may visit at a later time to thank you for tonight. Sizhui: 在下无门无姓 ，单名思追 。举手之劳不足挂齿 ，怎敢劳烦各位名门子弟答谢。My name is Sizhui, belonging to no family and to no sect. As for tonight - I only did what anyone would; it bears no mentioning and requires no thanks. Jin Ling: 你这人，看你工力不凡，想和你交个朋友，可你怎么遮遮掩掩的。Hey you, we see you’re a talented cultivator and want to make your acquaintance. Why are you so dodge-y? Zizhen：金陵 — Jing Ling - Sizhui: 若是有缘，还会相见。告辞。If it’s fated, we will meet again. Farewell.  

Later:  Jingyi: 思。追。 思追谁？Si. Zhui. To recollect and long for whom?  Sizhui: 母亲的一位故人. Someone from Mother’s past.  Jingyi: 你父亲？...Your father?  Sizhui: 我不知。I don’t know. 

I thought about how cute it would be if sizhui and jin ling knew each other but guys...Jiang Cheng literally thinks he killed Sizhui’s biological father. Like he literally thinks he orphaned Sizhui before Sizhui is even born. And Lan Wangji would never accept anything from Jiang Wanyin, not that it would stop Jiang Wanyin from trying. 

A package of books here, a new robe for Sizhui there. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how Jiang Cheng keeps finding her. She and Sizhui are nomadic.  

D) The inevitable conversation after wwx is revived. 

You know what would be funnier than Jiang Cheng thinking Sizhui is a wangxian baby is if Lan Qiren thinks Sizhui is a wangxian baby. 

[markets]

my cousin made me read the new dork diaries books And Srsly i could write an essay on the fall from grace that dork diaries had esp[ecially when compared to diary of a wimpy kid bc like i bett i could pick up one of the new wimpy kid books and still like it if not just as much as i did when i was like 8 then still a fair amount but present day nikki maxwell makes me want to stick a shotgun in my mouth. the appeal of dork diaries tto me as a kid was that she was this normal girl who was kind of a loser and had the odds stacked against her at this fancy school but still had friends and a semihappy ending most of the time like i could relate to her. diary of a wimpy kid was similar in some ways too Except greg was significantly cuntier (sorry) and also a boy. but over the years diary of a wimpy kid took away every single accomplishment of greg's in a funny way (like in the valentines day one where he lost the girl bc he thought she had chicken pox). he never gets a super happy ending but i never like grieved for him or anything as a kid. it wass always funny and kept him a normal kid i could relate to, made him a blank slate for whatever adventure hed have in the next book. meanwhile, over the years dork diaries has given nikki TOO much. a tv show a band the guy shes been chasing after the mean girl leaving the school (Literally the worstttt fucking writing decision ever btw.why would you take out your MAIN ANTAGONIST for no reason). and it never takes anything away so not only does this make the author have to make up somme totally mundane problems to fill pages (like in the birthday book where she complains about her parents not giving her a $500 party) it also just makes her not relatable to anyone at all. the most poignant example of this is like Ok do u guys remember in the first book when shes talking about how she is not the stereotypical girl who lays in bed writing about her hot boyfriend in her diary and eating chocolates. well guess what she does in book 13. iknow its a kids series not fine liiterature BUT IM SICK OF THISSS Like they massacred my childhood losergirl she was the blueprint for this blog and they took out her heart and soul. at least we still have mackenzie hollister Bc the book where she stole nikkis diary and wrote about her richgirl problems was the most interesting of the recent ones