#i love brian so this was a treat

[boinky-doinky]

if ur still taking marble hornets requests may i have a teeny tiny bit of brian plz as a little birthday treat

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE BUT I HOPE YOUR BIRTHDAY WAS FANTASTIC AND YOU GOT EVERYTHING YOU WANTED

[ravaging-angel]

ur angle and ur davil

[courtillyy]

moodboard: aroace connor (ats)

[rrapmonster]

the switch up on brian puspos on twitter has been absolutely comical to watch

[thediaryofaurora]

ticci toby nsfw headcanons 😭🤲 can’t express how much i love your hc’s bro its so good 🥹💗 pls keep cooking

☆Ticci Toby Relationship HCs☆

CW: NSFW, f!reader

THANK YOU SO MUCH! This ask single-handedly brought me out of my writing slump. I went ahead and added SFW dating HCs as well, a little bonus 🙌 Also I’m in a leg brace from soccer so I’m stuck in bed.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

★SFW★

- This guy has got a LOT on his mental plate, be prepared for that.

- He is 100% a friends to lovers type of guy. He’s not easily trusting, so that relationship really has to be built up.

- When he does have a crush on someone he beats himself up about it because he feels so stupid for thinking you’d ever like him back.

- Moving onto actually dating him, he is so so so insecure. Lots of reassurance is needed, but if you’re able to get through to him he eventually realizes you actually like him.

- Crazy touch starved. In the first few months of dating he’s super unsure of if he can kiss you or even put his arm around you, he’s HORRIFIED of crossing any boundaries and you leaving. You’ll probably have to make the first move.

- He most likely won’t be the one to ask you out. If you’ve known eachother for a while and he’s feeling a little confident there’s a possibility, but in his mind he’d rather stay friends and get to see you rather than get rejected and you not talk to him anymore.

- LOVES going on dates with you, but he’s a ball of anxiety. It should be easy to cool him down and let him know you’re enjoying it, he’s just so worried about if you’re happy or not.

- Usually thinks going on walks or sitting on a curb together is like the perfect date, ESPECIALLY in the fall. He keeps an old camera on him that he got from Brian so he can make little home videos and capture the moments you spend together.

- Picks up cool leaves, glass shards, or other things left in the forest and makes sure to show you.

- He’s actually not an awful cook. He’s a fast learner in pretty much every aspect and he already knows the basics. His mom taught him when he was young how to make some baseline German dishes, and this man can WHIP that shit up.

- Once you two are to the point in your relationship where you can cuddle, he is ALL OVER YOU. Especially when it’s raining/ thundering out and you two can lay in bed together. Since he overheats easily due to his CIPA, in the colder seasons you’ll have to leave the window open so he can stay cool.

- After seeing how his dad treated his mom, he has a pretty good grasp on how to treat a partner. At times he can fly off the handle, especially with his bipolar disorder, but afterwards he breaks down and apologizes. If at any point you even SEEM like you don’t like him anymore he gets defensive, it makes him very standoffish or snappy.

- Won’t shut up about you after you start dating. Not in a rambling way, but he finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. He doesn’t meant to, but how could he go without telling someone you’d like the flower he just walked by?

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

✩NSFW✩

- VIRRRRGINNNNNNNN.

- I mean VIRGIN virgin, like this guy has had NO activity. No first kiss either. All the knowledge he has is from porn, so he’s completely clueless. If you’re both inexperienced you’ll just have to persevere.

- He’s the kind of person to get turned on looking at a picture of you fully clothed, he’s just so in love with you.

- Before you two start dating he’s 100% taking candid pictures of you or finding your instagram posts and jacking off to them.

- Massive bottom. He puts out a front for a WHILE before you’ll be able to realize he’s not a top, he doesn’t want to look like a sissy. If you suggest being on top he’s BLOWN AWAY. Acts like he’s just doing whatever you want, but afterwards you definitely realize he’s been waiting for it.

- Sensitive as hell. He’s a loud one, but again he doesn’t want to look weak or not masculine enough. He tries to hold his moans and whimpers back and grunt instead, but if you do it just right he’s a whimpering, whining, PANTING, mess. Kiss his neck? He’s rock hard. Even if you’re just giving him a hickey he’s whimpering and bucking his hips into you.

- Tits man 100%. Doesn’t matter what size, the fact that they’re there is enough. When you’re on top of him he prefers for you to face him so he can watch them bounce. When he’s on top he’s usually in missionary so he can still see them.

- Hair pulling kink, specifically his. He can’t feel the pain, but the yank drives him CRAZY.

- Big on oral. Giving or receiving, he doesn’t care. If he’s giving he prefers for you to sit on his face, but he’d never admit that.

- His favorite place to do it is tight spaces. Closets, cars, narrow alleyways. Especially if it adds to the thrill of getting caught.

- STAMINA. He cums crazy fast, but he’s definitely able to make up for it with how many rounds he can go. Even if he came a few minutes ago, it’s already up and ready to go again.

- Likes to have music playing in the back while you do it. He probably already made a playlist the second you started dating, but if you ever want to choose the music he doesn’t mind.

- At first he’s self conscious about his abilities, but after some time and seeing how good you feel he’s a cocky motherfucker. Slyly grinning and looking at you all worn out after a few rounds boosts his ego to the moon.

- Dim lighting all the way. He wants to be able to see you, but he feels too exposed when it’s too bright.

- Not completely opposed to a threesome, it depends on who it is. He’s more protective than possessive, so if he trusts the person enough he’d be okay with it. If it had to be anyone in the mansion it would probably be Cody or Liu, but he’d make sure you’re okay with it.

- Rabid horny teenager.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

[halfmoonaria]

what i can’t say

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara wants the only person she can’t have, but she’ll do whatever it takes to change that —even if it means risking everything.

word count: 10.7k

author’s note: yall don’t forget to wish me a happy birthday this friday on the 22nd!

Tara wasn't used to hearing the word "no."

Growing up, she'd mastered the art of getting exactly what she wanted, whether it was a toy, a treat, or just a little more attention.

All it took was a well-timed look, a hint of a pout, or a small scene in a public place—not that she ever felt bad about it. After all, it always worked, and it always felt worth it.

But more than any toy or treat, Tara always seemed to have what she wanted most: you.

Her best friend since... well, since you both were small enough to think scraped knees were the end of the world. You'd been there from the start, the friend who laughed with her, who stood by her through every phase and whim.

Tara didn't have to beg or throw a fit to keep you close. You just were. It was like you were woven into each other's lives, and if anyone asked, she'd say you'd always be there—like you were something she'd managed to keep just for herself.

If anyone asked, Tara couldn't quite recall a time before you.

You were there in every memory that mattered, the friend who understood her quirks, finished her sentences, and knew every dream she'd ever had.

You were inseparable, not just in the way kids cling to each other, but in the way people do when they know they'll never quite find someone who gets them like this again.

You shared everything with your clothes, midnight snacks, and every embarrassing crush you'd ever had.

You laughed together about the silly things you thought were love back then, sharing conversations about who you'd marry someday and who had the best smile.

Although. Tara was always a little quieter during these talks, listening more than sharing, and you never thought much of it. That was just Tara, after all, always keeping a bit of herself back, tucked away in her own mind.

But when it came to your middle school crush, she never missed a chance to tease you, brushing him off as if he wasn't as special as you seemed to think.

She'd laugh and tell you he wasn't as funny as you made him out to be, or that his smile really wasn't anything to write home about.

To you, it was just typical Tara, always finding a way to poke holes in the things you liked.

You didn't notice how her smile faltered when you gushed over him or how her gaze turned a little sharper, though even she didn't fully understand why.

It left her with an uneasy feeling, the kind she could never quite explain, that made her want to change the subject whenever she could.

And as time passed during this time, it seemed like your crush only grew, and so did the way you talked about him.

No matter how many times Tara brushed off your comments or tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, you still lit up whenever his name came up.

Brian.

Brian slipped into conversations almost daily, whether it was about the way he made everyone laugh in class or how he'd held the door for you that morning. And each time you brought him up, Tara felt a pang of irritation she couldn't quite explain.

She never told you how much she despised Brian, but the feeling ran deep. It gnawed at her whenever you mentioned him, and even though she tried to brush it off, she found herself disliking him more and more.

The worst part was, she couldn't understand why. It wasn't like you weren't allowed to like a boy—that was just part of life, after all.

Whenever she hinted at her frustration with her mom, she'd hear the same thing: it was normal, fun even, to have a crush, and Tara would experience it too someday.

But she hadn't. She'd never felt that way about any boy in your grade, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she should.

It confused her, and in a way, it confused you too. You'd always laughed off the fact that Tara never seemed to "crush" the way you did, teasing her about how she'd figure it out someday.

But whenever you'd gush over Brian, Tara would just sit quietly, trying to ignore the strange knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten with every word you said.

Time went on, and those middle school crushes never quite faded.

Brian only seemed to grow more attractive, transitioning from the shy boy you liked to someone who was effortlessly charming, with a confidence that made everyone notice him.

Back then, you'd have called him "cute," but now, there were new words—hot, gorgeous—terms that made Tara roll her eyes every time they left your mouth.

But you still felt that rush of excitement when he was around, that same giddiness you'd had since you were ten, only now it felt a little more real.

Tara, on the other hand, hadn't changed much when it came to relationships.

While others around you both dated, broke up, and fell in love, she stayed quietly distant, brushing off questions and teasing about why she never seemed interested in anyone.

The truth was, she didn't really know why herself. There was a part of her that felt left out when you gushed about Brian, when your other friends talked about crushes or brought dates to dances. She tried to tell herself that she just wasn't interested yet, that maybe someday she'd feel what everyone else seemed to.

But as the years went by, Tara started to realize that maybe she was different—and she couldn't shake the strange sense of frustration that came with that realization, especially whenever Brian was mentioned.

Somewhere along the way, as high school turned into something more serious, so did her thoughts about you.

Tara didn't want to admit it at first—not to herself, not to anyone. The idea crept up quietly, unexpected and unwanted, like some shadow she couldn't shake.

The way you'd laugh at something silly, the familiar warmth of your hand in hers, or the way her heart would skip when you'd throw an arm around her shoulders. It all made sense now, but it was a sense she desperately didn't want.

When the realization hit her, it was like she couldn't breathe.

There was this tiny voice in her mind that whispered, almost cruelly, You're in love with her. Tara's immediate reaction was to shut it down, to deny it with everything she had. This couldn't be right. She wasn't in love with you.

That wasn't what best friends did. She told herself she was just confused, that maybe it was normal to feel this strongly about someone you'd known your entire life.

But every time she saw you look at Brian—every time you said his name with that sparkle in your eyes—it felt like a punch to the gut, and there was no denying it anymore.

The more she tried to reason with herself, the clearer it became. And that terrified her.

She couldn't let herself feel this way about you. You were her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone else.

The idea of telling you—of you finding out and looking at her with pity, or worse, disgust—made her stomach twist. She could already imagine the awkward smile, the way you might back away, laugh it off, or even leave her behind. It would shatter her, and she knew that.

And so, she decided then and there that this secret would stay with her.

She'd lock it away, bury it so deep that even she could forget about it someday. Telling anyone—even her parents—wasn't an option.

Not only did she fear their reaction, but she knew they wouldn't understand. To them, you were her friend, nothing more, and the thought of losing you, or of anyone making her feel like her love was wrong, was enough to keep her quiet.

But keeping quiet wasn't easy. The secret felt like it was burning a hole through her, consuming her thoughts and leaving her frustrated in ways she couldn't explain.

She wanted to be around you, but every moment with you felt like a reminder of what she could never have, and it only made the ache grow stronger.

She was angry, scared, and hopelessly in love with the one person she could never tell.

So she became skilled at hiding the depth of her feelings, putting on a mask that had somehow become part of her daily life.

She played her role well, acting like nothing had changed between you both.

At school, she kept her gaze casual, listening to you talk as if she didn't want to lose herself in the way your lips moved.

During sleepovers, she'd lie next to you, forcing herself to focus on anything but the warmth of your arm just inches from hers.

And at parties, now that you were both old enough to go, she'd laugh and dance alongside you, all while pretending her stomach wasn't in knots from the way you looked at her under dim lights, a playful grin lighting up your face.

It was like living with a constant tug-of-war inside her, balancing between wanting to be near you and needing to keep her heart steady.

She'd perfected the art of nonchalance, even when you made it nearly impossible. When you got excited about something—eyes wide, laughing about some small victory—Tara would have to swallow down the urge to reach out, to brush a strand of hair from your face or lean in just a little closer.

The hardest moments were the little things, the 'normal' things, like when you'd give her an easy, carefree compliment, your eyes warm and sincere.

She'd feel the blush rise to her cheeks, and she'd quickly look away or laugh it off, hoping you didn't notice the way her voice wavered.

And when you held her hands, like you always did, squeezing them to give her a little boost of courage, she'd act as though it didn't send her heart racing, as though she wasn't fighting the impulse to hold on tighter.

Every smile you threw her way, every moment you lingered too close, she had to act like it didn't make her insides flip.

She trained herself to respond with that same easy smile, to pretend she didn't feel like the air had been knocked out of her whenever you looked at her like she was the only one in the room.

It was a constant game of pretending, a battle against herself that she had to win every single day.

And as much as she tried to hide it, each touch, each laugh, each simple, familiar look left her more tangled in her own emotions.

She tried to tell herself that these things were just... normal. Friends did these things all the time, she told herself, even if everything in her felt far from normal.

But no matter how many times she told herself that, her resolve was starting to crack. She couldn't help but notice her jealousy flare up when she saw you talking to other people, especially Brian.

Then, one Tuesday at lunch, you dropped a bombshell that flipped her world just a bit more.

She leaned back, half-focused on your conversation with the others at the table, when she saw you walking toward her with a grin so bright it felt like it could light up the whole room.

Tara felt her heart jump at the sight, her thoughts immediately swept into the excitement that was clearly radiating off of you.

You barely took your seat before bursting with excitement. "Tara!"

Tara's smile matched yours, though a part of her already felt a small pang of unease. But she pushed it aside and leaned in eagerly, mirroring your excitement. "What happened?"

You practically glowed as you told her, "He sat next to me in class today." Tara's chest tightened, but she held her expression steady, keeping that casual, easy smile.

She already knew who you meant—you didn't even have to say his name. It was in the way your voice softened, how your eyes sparkled with excitement she rarely saw except when you were really, really happy.

She couldn't stand the sight of it. Seeing you so... in love, so giddy, felt like a punch she wasn't ready for.

You practically glowed, your whole personality seeming to shift as if you were that younger version of yourself again, like back in middle school when every new crush filled you with wide-eyed excitement.

Except now, it wasn't an innocent schoolgirl crush; it was real, and you were already slipping further from her reach with each passing second.

Tara kept smiling, but inside, every bit of her was tangled up in knots.

You'd never look at her like that. Never talk about her with that bubbly, uncontainable happiness. The thought clawed at her, a reminder she could never push away.

She was your best friend, sure, but she'd never be the person who made your cheeks flush or your heart race. And somehow, knowing that made it even harder to keep that same easy smile on her face.

"And?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her, even as she felt a knot forming. She listened as you recounted every word, every laugh you'd shared with him in that class.

Then you dropped the real news, your eyes sparkling. Your grin only widened. "And then, right before class ended, he asked me to go with him to that party next weekend."

Tara's heart sank, yet she barely let the smile slip. She forced herself to open her mouth in surprise, eyes wide, like she was just as thrilled as you were. "Really?" she said, trying to sound as shocked and happy as you seemed, her voice just a bit too bright. "Did you... did you say yes?"

Of course you did. Tara felt stupid for even considering asking you that question.

But you didn't seem to mind, you just nodded eagerly, your whole face lighting up. "Obviously!"

"Oh, wow. That's... that's great, actually," she said, her voice a little too steady, but it was the best she could manage.

Inside, though, she was unraveling. You were actually going with him. It shouldn't have been such a shock—after all, this was what you wanted, right?

But knowing that you'd be there, dressed up, all smiles and laughter... with him... felt like a lead weight sinking in her chest.

She could already picture it, the two of you in some dimly lit room with music thumping, Ethan leaning in close to say something to make you laugh, you smiling up at him like he was the only person in the world.

The thought of it made her throat tighten, her mind racing with feelings she didn't even want to name.

"Are you excited?" she asked, her voice coming out just barely above a whisper. She hoped you wouldn't notice how strained it sounded, how much effort it took just to ask.

You nodded, your smile impossibly bright. "Yeah, I mean... I didn't think he even noticed me like that, you know? But now... maybe he does."

The way you said it—hopeful, almost in disbelief—cut deeper than she wanted to admit. Maybe he does. Those three words stayed in her head, echoing louder with each second.

She was supposed to be happy for you, and maybe part of her was, but mostly, she just felt hollow.

Because even though you'd never know it, she'd been looking at you the way you were looking at him, longing for that same chance to mean something more to you. And now she was faced with the awful reality that she might never get that chance.

Swallowing down the bitterness, she forced a tight-lipped smile. "You'll have a great time, I'm sure."

But even as she said it, a part of her was already wondering if she'd do something she'd regret. The thought of watching you fall for someone else—someone who wasn't her—was more than she could stand.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she'd do almost anything to keep you from slipping away.

Your eyes brightened again. "You should come with us!"

Tara's heart twisted at the invitation, feeling both flattered and devastated. Of course you'd want her there, being the good friend you were—unaware of what it did to her to see you light up over someone else.

Forcing herself to stay casual, she shrugged, managing a small playful smirk. "I'm not exactly great at third-wheeling."

Her voice sounded steady enough, but inside, it felt like she was clinging to the last threads of composure.

She couldn't stand the thought of watching you fall for him right in front of her, yet the idea of saying no, of letting you go without her... that hurt, too.

Maybe if she was there, she could stop whatever was beginning to grow between you and him. Just maybe, she thought, she'd find a way to keep you by her side, where you'd always belonged.

Her mind spun, the smile on her face frozen, all she could focus on was the sinking realization that she might actually lose you.

Until now, she'd convinced herself that her feelings for you were something she could handle, something she'd eventually learn to live with. But now, with Brian's name hanging between you, that quiet acceptance shattered.

She could see the way this might unfold, each painful step already clear in her mind.

She'd watched enough romance movies to know how these things went, and as much as she wanted to push the thoughts away, they crept in, vivid and unrelenting.

First, you'd go to the party together, and maybe he'd make you laugh so much that you'd find yourself leaning in, your hand brushing his.

She could already picture the two of you on future dates—sharing secrets over a quiet dinner or standing too close on some sidewalk, your face lit up in a way that made her stomach twist with envy.

And worse, she could imagine what might happen after those dates, how one day soon he'd reach for your hand, and you wouldn't hesitate to hold his back.

She didn't want to picture it, but the thought seeped into her mind anyway, filling her with a fierce, unfamiliar ache.

The image of you wrapped up in his arms, whispering into his ear, or—even worse—laughing with that same joy you always shared with her, but this time meant for him, made her chest feel hollow.

The thought kept spiraling, her mind betraying her with scenes she couldn't bear to picture.

You, with Brian, alone, closer than she'd ever be, maybe even leaning in for a kiss.

She imagined his hand brushing your cheek, the two of you getting so lost in each other that you forgot everyone else around you—including her.

The jealousy was sharp, hotter than anything she'd felt before.

She hated the way it took over, the way it made her feel small and powerless, like she was losing something that had never even been hers to begin with.

And then, a terrible, aching thought hit her: she might never get to be close to you in that way.

She might never get to be the person who held you, who kissed you, who made you laugh like that.

It wasn't just about watching you fall for someone else—it was the crushing realization that you might never look at her the way you looked at him.

Maybe it would be better if she came along?

The idea took a root in Tara's mind, an unexpected, half-formed plan that both excited and unsettled her.

If she went to the party with you and Brian, it might give her a chance to keep things from moving forward between you two.

She could play it off as tagging along to "keep an eye" on you, to make sure you had fun—and stay close enough to step in if Brian tried anything. It was risky, maybe even a little desperate, but what choice did she have?

At least if she was there, she'd know exactly what was happening. She wouldn't have to lie awake later, imagining him whispering things in your ear, pulling you close, stealing the attention she wanted only for herself.

She could keep you safe from all that, and maybe, if she was careful enough, find subtle ways to draw your attention back to her, where it belonged.

In her mind, it sounded almost justified. A "protective friend" sticking close to make sure you were all right. But the truth simmered beneath that excuse—she knew this was more than friendship, that she wanted to keep you to herself in ways you might never understand.

If Brian was going to try to win you over, he'd have to do it with her there, watching his every move, ready to swoop in the second things started looking too cozy.

And maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to make sure that night ended with you still hers—still looking at her with that easy, trusting smile that had always been her anchor.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it, the chance to stay close to you a little longer, to stave off the reality she dreaded.

If you didn't have the chance to fall for him—if she could prevent that—maybe she'd finally have the time and courage to make you see her the way she saw you.

You nudged her lightly, snapping Tara out of her thoughts, leaning in with that familiar, hopeful smile that always made it so hard to say no to you. "Come on, Tara. It'll be fun—just this once. Please?"

Tara's chest tightened at the way you looked at her, like her answer actually mattered to you. It made something inside her ache, the way your face lit up with excitement, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in her mind.

She should've said no. She wanted to say no.

But the thought of watching you leave without her—without knowing what might happen between you and Brian—made her stomach twist painfully.

And now, thanks to the idea she'd let herself entertain earlier, the thought of staying home didn't feel like an option anymore.

That plan, desperate and reckless as it was, had already taken root, and no matter how much a small part of her whispered it wasn't right, she couldn't let it go.

What if she stayed behind and missed her chance to stop something from blossoming between the two of you? What if she sat in her room, alone, while you fell for him right in front of everyone? The mere idea made her skin crawl.

But going wasn't any better. If she went, she'd have to watch you fawn over him, maybe even see you with him. And that thought was enough to make her want to bolt from the room. Yet here you were, looking at her like her presence actually mattered.

But why? Did you think she needed convincing, or was there some part of you that truly wanted her by your side? Her stomach churned at the thought.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep her expression neutral. If she said no, you'd go without her, and that stung more than she wanted to admit. But if she said yes...

Her mind spun with the possibilities. She didn't even know what she'd do if she went—how far she was willing to take this twisted plan of hers. But what she did know, with a growing certainty, was that she couldn't stay behind. Not when the thought of Brian pulling you closer was enough to make her chest burn with jealousy.

Your face shifted slightly, your brows knitting together when she didn't answer right away.

"Tara," you pressed gently, your voice dipping into that teasing tone you always used when you were trying to coax her into something. "Come on," you pressed again, your grin widening when she hesitated. "You have to come. It won't be the same without you."

It won't be the same without you.

Those words sealed it, though not in the way you meant them to. Something twisted and desperate bloomed in her chest, making her pulse quicken.

You didn't even realize it, but you were giving her exactly what she wanted: a reason to stay close. A reason to be where she could see you—and control what happened between you and Brian.

"Fine," she said at last, forcing a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But don't complain when I tell you it sucks."

The way your entire face lit up at her answer sent an ache through her chest. Her stomach fluttered against her will, a mix of longing and guilt tangling together in a way that made it hard to breathe. She hated how much it affected her, how happy you seemed just because she'd agreed to go.

She looked away quickly, pretending to focus on something across the room, anything to avoid the way your joy sent another wave of guilt and longing through her.

She knew it wasn't right—none of this was. But she couldn't let it go. Not when her plan had already started to take shape. Not when the thought of Brian having you was enough to make her reckless.

Because no matter how hard she tried to tell herself this was just a party, just a stupid night out, deep down, she knew she wasn't going for the music or the fun.

She was going because if Brian thought he was going to win you over tonight, he was dead wrong.

___

"What about this one?"

Tara looked up from where she was sitting on the edge of your bed, her gaze drawn to the shimmering fabric you held up against yourself. It was a short, fitted dress, one you'd clearly been saving for a moment like this.

The way Tara sat there, watching you flit around the room, sifting through piles of clothes you'd pulled from your closet.

It reminded her of when you were younger, back when the two of you would raid your moms' closets, parading around in oversized heels and dresses that pooled around your feet. You'd giggle uncontrollably, striking exaggerated poses in front of the mirror.

But this wasn't dress-up anymore.

Now, the clothes were your own—real, grown-up outfits that fit you perfectly, accentuating curves and edges Tara wasn't sure she was supposed to notice. It wasn't just playtime; this was your life now. And tonight, you weren't dressing up for laughs or pretend tea parties.

You were dressing up for him.

Her eyes flickered briefly over the dress before settling on your face. You were beaming, the excitement practically radiating off you as you turned to the mirror, holding the dress against your body.

She should've said something. A simple "looks great" or even a teasing "a bit much, don't you think?" would've worked, but the words caught in her throat.

It wasn't the dress—it was the way your whole body hummed with energy, the way your smile was just a little too wide, your movements a little too quick. Tara saw it all, and it was like watching you wear your feelings on your sleeve.

The way you twirled the dress in front of the mirror, the way your hands moved restlessly as you smoothed down imaginary creases—it was all too familiar. She knew exactly what you were feeling, even if you didn't say it out loud.

Did Brian? She doubted it.

He didn't know the little things, like how your voice got higher when you were nervous or how you couldn't stand still when you were excited. He didn't know the way your lips pressed together when you were thinking too hard about something or the way your shoulders tensed when you wanted something to go perfectly.

He didn't know you, not like she did.

"What do you think?" you asked again, snapping her out of her thoughts. You turned, holding the dress out at arm's length, giving her a better look. "Too much? Not enough?"

Tara forced a smile, her heart twisting as she watched you. "I think it's... nice," she said carefully, her voice steady even as her stomach churned.

Nice. The word felt like a betrayal. It didn't come close to how she really felt—how beautiful you looked, how much she wished those bright eyes were sparkling for her instead of someone else.

"You think Brian'll like it?" you asked, your tone innocent, but the question struck Tara like a punch.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the fabric of your comforter. She wanted to tell you Brian didn't deserve you, that he wouldn't know how to appreciate all the little things that made you you. But instead, she kept her tone casual, masking the storm inside her.

"I mean... yeah," she said after a pause. "It's hard not to like you in anything."

Your grin widened, lighting up the room in a way that made her stomach flutter. You didn't notice the tightness in her smile, the way her eyes lingered on you for just a second too long.

"You're the best." you said, turning back to the mirror.

Tara's chest tightened, a quiet ache settling beneath her ribs. She glanced away, forcing a small smile as she leaned back on her hands.

She let her fingers dug slightly into the comforter as she watched you move across the room again, this time heading toward your closet. You sifted through the hangers with an almost frantic energy, pulling out one piece of clothing after another until something caught your eye.

"This," you announced, holding up a sleek black skirt and a tiny top with delicate lace accents.

Tara blinked, her focus shifting from the faint hum of her own thoughts to the outfit in your hands. The skirt was just short enough to grab attention, and the top would clung to the curves in all the right places—your curves, she couldn't help but think.

Her stomach twisted again, but not with the same bitterness from earlier. No, this was something else entirely. She couldn't stop herself from picturing you in it, couldn't stop the way her mind immediately conjured the image of you standing there, all done up, looking effortlessly hot and completely out of her reach.

She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away. "You're not wearing the dress?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"Oh, I am," you replied with a grin, holding the outfit closer to her. "This is for you!"

Tara froze. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, her chest tightening as your words sank in.

She had been so caught up in watching you, so wrapped up in her own spiral of emotions, that she had momentarily forgotten she was actually going to this party.

"Me?" she echoed, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to act like the idea of dressing up didn't make her stomach drop.

You laughed softly, stepping closer to hold the outfit up against her frame. "Yeah, you! Come on, Tara, you can't just wear that." You half-pointed to her attire.

Tara's eyes darted to the mirror, catching a glimpse of herself in her usual hoodie and jeans.

She had planned on blending into the background tonight, just another shadow in the corner, but now you were holding out a version of herself she wasn't sure she wanted to confront.

"It's... a little much, don't you think?" she murmured, her fingers brushing over the fabric.

"Not at all," you said, undeterred. "Trust me, you'll look amazing.

The way you looked at her, so excited, so hopeful, made it impossible for her to argue. The truth was, she didn't want to blend into the background—not really. Not if it meant letting Brian win.

"Alright," she said finally, forcing a small smirk as she reached for the outfit.

You grinned, clearly thrilled, and the sight sent her heart fluttering all over again.

As she stood up to take the clothes in you, the weight of the night ahead settled on her shoulders again. She knew this wasn't about the clothes or the party. It was about you—about keeping you close, about holding onto the part of you that still felt like hers, even if it wasn't.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she was willing to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Tara pulled the clothes from your hands, her fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary before she turned away.

She hesitated only briefly, her eyes darting to the bathroom door, but then she decided against it. It wasn't like this was anything new. You'd seen her change plenty of times before.

Slipping off her hoodie, she pulled the top over her head, the soft lace brushing against her skin in a way that felt oddly delicate, almost foreign.

The skirt followed, the fabric snug around her waist and flaring slightly at her hips. When she finally turned back toward you, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

It was strange. She didn't recognize the girl staring back at her right away—not entirely. The clothes fit her so well, so effortlessly, that she felt a flicker of something unexpected: pride.

She looked... pretty. Not in the same way you did, with your radiant energy that drew everyone in, but still. Pretty enough.

Her heart jumped a little at the thought of you seeing her like this, of you noticing her in the way she always noticed you. She didn't know why she wanted that so badly, but the hope curled tightly in her chest, warm and persistent.

You looked up from where you'd been smoothing out your own dress, and your reaction was immediate. Your eyes widened slightly, and then your face lit up in that effortless way that always made her stomach flutter.

"Tara, oh my god, you look so good," you said, your voice soft but genuine, carrying none of the over-the-top excitement you sometimes used when joking around. This was real.

Tara felt her cheeks warm under your gaze, her fingers automatically reaching to adjust the hem of the skirt, as if she could somehow shield herself from the weight of your words. She tried to play it off, shrugging casually. "It's just a skirt," she mumbled, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

"It's not just a skirt," you countered, stepping closer. "You look amazing. Seriously, this is perfect for you."

Your words were kind, almost too kind, and Tara wasn't sure how to process them. There was no teasing, no playful edge, just an earnestness that made her chest feel tight and achy.

She glanced away, pretending to focus on her reflection again, but the warmth of your approval lingered, sinking into her skin like the lace of the top.

She wanted to feel good about it, to let herself bask in the way you saw her, but the nagging thought that this wasn't for her—that it was all part of your excitement for Brian—kept her grounded.

Still, the way you smiled at her, so unreserved and so entirely you, made her feel something she hadn't in a long time: seen. She wished, just for a second, that you were saying all of this for the same reason she wished you would.

You spun on your heel, nearly tripping over the pile of discarded clothes strewn across the floor in your excitement. Tara's breath caught for a second, her hand twitching instinctively like she was about to reach for you, but you caught yourself, laughing it off as if nothing had happened.

"You need to clean your room before someone gets hurt," Tara muttered, though her tone held more amusement than annoyance.

You ignored her, too caught up in the moment as you reached your makeup table, rifling through your collection with a kind of chaotic precision.

Pulling out a palette, you held it up, the colors catching the light as you grinned at her. "What do you think? Want me to do your makeup?"

Your voice was so full of unfiltered excitement, your smile so wide it made her stomach flip. Tara hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her skirt as she glanced at the palette in your hands. She wasn't really the makeup type—not like you were—but the way you looked at her, like you were just waiting to make her feel special, made it impossible to say no.

"You don't have to," Tara said finally, though her voice lacked conviction.

"I want to!" you insisted, stepping closer, the palette still in hand. "Please, Tara? I promise I'll keep it simple. Just a little something to go with the outfit."

She sighed, feigning reluctance as she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Fine."

You grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her, gesturing for her to sit. "Alright, let's make you even more stunning."

Tara rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she leaned forward.

___

The buzz of the party hit you as soon as you stepped through the door.

Music pulsed through the house, the bass vibrating in your chest as voices overlapped in a cacophony of laughter and shouted greetings.

People crowded the space—groups gathered near the kitchen, couples pressed close against walls, and a few brave souls danced in the living room, already letting loose despite how early it was in the night.

You glanced over at Tara, catching the way her shoulders stiffened slightly as the noise and energy enveloped her. She'd been quiet on the drive over, her fingers drumming against her thigh in a way that let you know her nerves were kicking in. But she'd never admit that, not to you.

"See?" you said brightly, bumping her shoulder with yours as you stepped further into the house. "I told you this would be fun."

Tara gave you a look, one that was half-skepticism and half-amusement, as she tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

Your laugh was warm and easy, a sound that somehow made the chaos of the party seem less overwhelming. You reached back to grab her hand, pulling her through the crowd as you made your way toward the kitchen. The feel of your fingers around hers made something in Tara's chest twist uncomfortably, though she forced herself to ignore it.

The kitchen was just as packed as the rest of the house, but you managed to snag two drinks from the counter, handing one to her with a grin. "Alright, party rule number one: stay hydrated."

Tara raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cup in her hand. "This is definitely not water."

"Details." You waved her off, your playful smirk making her stomach flutter in that maddeningly familiar way.

Before she could respond, a voice called out from across the room. "Y/N! There you are!"

Tara's grip on her cup tightened as she followed your gaze, her stomach sinking when she saw him—Brian—making his way toward you. His smile was wide and easy, the kind of grin that would make anyone else swoon.

But Tara wasn't anyone else.

"Brian!" you said, your face lighting up in a way that made Tara's chest ache. She stepped back slightly, letting go of your hand as he drew closer, though her eyes never left you.

He didn't deserve that smile.

Brian's gaze flickered to her briefly, his smile faltering just a bit. "Tara, right?"

She nodded, her expression neutral as she took a sip of her drink. "That's me."

If he noticed the edge in her tone, he didn't comment on it, turning his attention back to you instead. "You look amazing," he said, his eyes raking over your dress in a way that made Tara's jaw tighten.

You beamed at him, clearly pleased by the compliment, and Tara had to look away, her hand gripping her cup so tightly she was surprised it didn't crack.

This was going to be a long night.

And it most definitely was.

As the night went on, the party only grew louder and more chaotic. People drifted in and out of the circle you, Tara, and Brian had settled into, friends of his joining the conversation with easy smiles and casual jokes.

You made a genuine effort to include Tara, always pulling her back in when she started to fade into the background, but it was clear who held your focus.

Brian.

He stood close to you, his arm brushing yours as he leaned in to talk over the music.

You didn't seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you didn't mind. Either way, the proximity between you two only seemed to grow as the minutes ticked by, and Tara couldn't stop watching.

Every time you laughed at something he said, her chest tightened just a little more.

You weren't doing it on purpose. Tara knew that. She knew you didn't notice the way her jaw clenched or how her fingers drummed against her cup.

You were just being you—kind, bubbly, and effortlessly charming. But watching you with Brian, seeing how much of your attention he was soaking up, felt like a slow, relentless sting.

She hadn't expected it to bother her this much.

At first, Tara tried to play along, chiming in when she could and taking small sips of her drink to distract herself.

But then Brian's friends started joining the conversation, their loud energy making it harder for her to keep up. You were still trying to include her, turning to her every so often to ask her opinion or flash her one of your brilliant smiles, but it wasn't enough.

Not when you lit up like a damn firework every time Brian said something that made you laugh.

Tara tipped back her cup, finishing it quicker than she probably should have. She wasn't much of a drinker to begin with—she never really liked how it made her feel—but tonight was different. Tonight, she needed the edge taken off.

"Want another?" you asked, noticing her empty cup.

She hesitated, but before she could respond, Brian offered. "I'll grab her one. Be right back."

She opened her mouth to say she didn't need another, but he was already walking away.

You smiled after him before turning back to Tara, your expression so full of effortless warmth it made her stomach churn. "You having fun?"

She forced a small nod, her grip tightening on the plastic cup. "Yeah. It's... fine."

You didn't notice the strain in her voice, too caught up in the energy of the party to catch on.

By the time Brian returned with her drink, she'd already decided she wasn't going to overthink it. She took it with a quiet "thanks" and drank just enough to feel the buzz set in. It wasn't much—maybe two drinks total—but Tara was short, and she always felt the effects quicker than most.

The alcohol didn't drown out her frustration, though.

Every laugh you gave Brian, every time you leaned in to whisper something to him, only seemed to magnify it.

And you? You were oblivious. Still trying to keep her in the conversation, pulling her in with the same ease you always had. But she could feel the gap widening.

Tara's foot tapped against the floor as she shifted her weight, her eyes flickering between you and Brian. She should've left, should've wandered off to another part of the house to escape this torturous little triangle, but she stayed.

Because if she left, she'd have to admit to herself why she couldn't handle this.

So instead, she took another sip of her drink and plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice cutting through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she said quickly, her words sharper than she intended. "I'm fine."

But she wasn't. And as the night wore on, that became harder and harder to hide.

And after an hour, or maybe even more.

The alcohol was definitely working its way through Tara's veins. She could feel it, the familiar warmth spreading through her chest, making her limbs feel looser but her thoughts louder.

The edges of the room blurred ever so slightly, but her focus on you was sharp as ever, almost painfully so.

You were giggling at something Brian said again, your hand brushing his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tara had been watching you both like a hawk all night, trying to play it cool, but the subtle touches, the shared smiles, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him—it was getting under her skin.

She clenched her jaw, tipping back the rest of her drink as if it might drown out the frustration bubbling inside her. But it didn't.

It wasn't just the alcohol making her feel reckless, though it didn't help. Tara was desperate.

Desperate to do something—anything—that might shift the balance back in her favor. But how? She wasn't like Brian. She didn't have easy jokes or effortless charm. And she wasn't like you, all soft laughter and open smiles.

So she sat there, stewing in her own silence, searching for an opening she couldn't find.

Then she turned her head for just a moment.

A distraction—a loud burst of laughter from somewhere across the room. She glanced over, barely processing the source, and when she looked back...

Her heart stopped.

You and Brian were kissing.

It wasn't shy or hesitant. It was full and unguarded, like something out of the movies. His hands rested lightly on your waist, your fingers clutching the front of his shirt as though you were afraid to let go.

Tara's first thought wasn't sadness. It wasn't heartbreak or even surprise.

It was rage.

Her body went rigid, the plastic cup in her hand creaking under the force of her grip.

Because of course this wasn't a problem.

Why would it be?

You weren't hers. You'd never been hers. You were allowed to kiss boys, especially the boy you'd been crushing on for as long as she could remember. It wasn't like you were breaking some unspoken rule. She had no claim to you, no right to feel betrayed or blindsided.

But God, it felt like a betrayal.

Her rational mind tried to reason with her, repeating the same useless mantra: This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem.

But the other side of her mind—the side that had been clawing its way to the surface all night—was screaming the opposite.

It was a problem. A huge one.

The anger burned through her like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought as it spread. It started in her chest, hot and heavy, before curling into her throat and setting her teeth on edge. Her nails dug into the soft plastic of her cup until it crumpled under her grip, a sharp crack breaking through the buzz of the party.

And still, she couldn't look away.

She hated it. Hated the way his hands touched you so easily, like he'd earned that right. Hated the way you kissed him back like you'd been waiting for this your whole life. Hated how he got to have what she wanted so desperately without even knowing how much it mattered.

Her breaths came quicker, each one catching in her chest as if she couldn't quite fill her lungs. The alcohol amplified everything, stripping her bare of the filters she usually relied on. Every raw, unspoken feeling she'd buried for years was rising to the surface now, and there was no stopping it.

She wanted to scream.

To grab you and pull you away, to tell Brian to get his hands off you, to do something.

But she didn't.

Because no matter how angry she was, no matter how much she hated what she was seeing, there was a part of her—a small, quiet, agonizing part—that whispered:

You're not supposed to feel like this.

So instead, Tara sat there, her body tense and trembling, her nails biting into the palms of her hands. She didn't even realize she'd crumpled her cup until the sticky remnants of her drink dripped onto her lap.

And still, she couldn't look away.

Eventually you pulled back from Brian, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy from the alcohol coursing through your system.

A small, almost dazed laugh escaped your lips as you glanced at him, then turned to find Tara in the crowd. She hadn't moved from where she'd been watching, her posture stiff and her eyes fixed on some indistinct point on the wall—anywhere but you.

When your gaze landed on her, your smile widened, bright and unrestrained, like you hadn't just set her entire world on fire.

Tara's chest tightened, the molten frustration inside her bubbling hotter with every passing second. She couldn't stop her thoughts, couldn't silence the storm brewing in her mind.

You stumbled a little as you reached her, still grinning like a fool, your energy infectious to everyone but Tara. You leaned close, tipping forward on your toes, your voice loud but slurred enough to betray your tipsy state.

"I think he kissed me," you said, as if it hadn't been entirely mutual.

Tara felt something snap.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms so hard she half-expected to draw blood.

She couldn't speak, couldn't trust herself to even try. If she opened her mouth, she was sure she'd yell or say something she couldn't take back. Worse, she might cry—and that wasn't an option.

Her silence stretched on, but you didn't seem to notice. You were too lost in your own world, your thoughts spinning with the buzz of the alcohol and the remnants of Brian's touch. Tara's silence didn't matter, because you filled the space with another easy laugh, leaning closer so she could hear you over the pounding music.

"I need to use the bathroom," you said, your lips brushing near her ear. The warmth of your breath made her stomach twist. "Wanna come?"

Tara's mind scrambled for an excuse, her mouth dry as she fought the urge to say something reckless.

"No," she said finally, forcing her voice to sound casual, detached. "I think I'm good down here."

It wasn't true. She wasn't good down here, or anywhere else in the universe at that moment.

You gave her a light shrug, your expression still full of that easy joy that made her want to scream. "Okay! Be right back!"

You disappeared into the crowd, weaving your way toward the bathroom, leaving Tara standing there alone.

The second you were out of sight, she exhaled sharply, her hands shaking as she reached for another drink she didn't need.

She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the anger, or the ache of jealousy threatening to overwhelm her. Maybe it was all three, swirling into something she couldn't control.

But one thing was clear—she couldn't keep this up. Not tonight. Not with you and Brian. Not with her chest full of feelings she couldn't name and didn't want to face.

Tara's eyes burned as they landed on Brian, standing not far from where you'd left him. His posture was easy, relaxed—too relaxed.

He stood there like nothing had happened, chatting casually with a couple of his friends, his hand lifting a red cup to his lips like this was just another night. Like he hadn't just kissed you.

The most beautiful girl on the planet.

Tara felt her stomach twist painfully, her grip tightening around the drink in her hand. How could he be so unbothered? So unaffected? He wasn't grinning ear to ear, wasn't puffing out his chest or gushing about how lucky he was.

He wasn't laughing with joy or smirking proudly like any sane person would if they'd just kissed you.

How was he not telling everyone in earshot about what had happened? How was he not reeling from the fact that you—you, with your blinding smile and endless energy—had given him even a second of your time, let alone your lips?

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as she stared at him, her anger bubbling hotter with every second he stayed calm. Her hands itched to grab him by the collar, to shake him and demand he act like he understood the weight of what had just happened.

Did he even realize how lucky he was?

Did he know how many people in that room—how many people in general—would kill to be in his place? To have even the tiniest fraction of your attention, let alone that?

Her vision blurred, and it wasn't from the alcohol. Her chest felt like it was about to implode, like something inside her was trying desperately to escape, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it together.

Brian's laughter snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. He was laughing at something one of his friends said, his expression light, carefree—unbothered.

Tara nearly saw red.

She downed the rest of her drink in one go, the sharp burn doing nothing to dull the fury roaring in her chest. How could he be like this? How could he act so normal, so indifferent, after kissing you?

How could he not be overwhelmed by the fact that you'd chosen him, even for a fleeting moment?

It was insulting. Infuriating.

She wanted to march over there, to grab him and make him feel the way she was feeling. She wanted him to hurt, to ache, to boil with jealousy the way she was.

But she couldn't.

Because none of this was his fault.

The real issue—the one she didn't want to admit—wasn't Brian. It was the simple, heartbreaking truth that he could kiss you without consequence.

He could have you.

Tara wasn't sure what happened next.

What she was thinking when it happened, or if she was even thinking at all. Maybe it was the anger—burning hot and uncontrollable—making her body move before her brain could catch up. Or maybe it was the alcohol, buzzing in her veins and drowning out every voice in her head that might've told her to stop.

All she knew was that one second she was standing there, glaring at Brian like he'd committed some unforgivable sin, and the next, she was storming toward him.

His friends noticed her first, their chatter faltering as they shifted awkwardly under her sharp glare. But Brian, oblivious as ever, didn't see her coming. He was mid-sentence, that stupidly calm look still plastered on his face, when Tara grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

The movement was forceful enough to knock the air out of both of them, and before he could even process what was happening—before she could process what was happening—she pressed her lips against his.

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't sweet.

It was messy, rough, and fueled by a cocktail of rage and desperation. Her hands fisted his shirt tightly, holding him in place, her nails biting into the fabric. Brian stiffened for a second, shocked, but then his hands hovered awkwardly near her waist, unsure of what to do.

Tara didn't care. She didn't care about his reaction, about his hesitation.

Because this wasn't about him.

It wasn't about his stupid, clueless face or the fact that he'd kissed you without giving it a second thought. It wasn't about him being unbothered or unaffected.

This was about her.

Her anger, her frustration, her absolute inability to sit there for another second and watch him act like kissing you was nothing.

The kiss deepened as her grip on his shirt tightened, pulling him even closer. She wanted to erase the memory of you from his lips, to replace it with her own. To make him feel something, anything, the way she was feeling.

But it wasn't working.

If anything, the kiss only made it worse.

Because no matter how hard she pressed, no matter how desperate her movements were, it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel like you.

And that thought was like a punch to the gut.

Brian made a soft, surprised noise against her lips, his hands finally settling on her hips, but it only made her angrier. How dare he hesitate now? How dare he act so unsure, like he didn't know exactly what he wanted when he'd so easily taken you from her just minutes ago?

Her chest heaved as she pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against his, her heart pounding in her ears.

His wide eyes stared at her, confused and more than a little alarmed. "Tara—" his voice laced with bewilderment, but she silenced him with another kiss, pressing harder, needing to cut him off.

She didn't want to hear his voice. She didn't want to hear him try to make sense of this, because she didn't have an explanation. This wasn't about him.

It wasn't about you either—not entirely, at least.

It was about her. About the way she felt like she was unraveling, about how every smile you gave Brian felt like another thread being yanked loose, every laugh you shared with him felt like a blow to the chest.

She didn't know how to make it stop, and the only thing her mind could come up with was this. She didn't have to think when she was kissing Brian. Didn't have to feel the jagged ache of watching you be so happy with someone else.

This wasn't about him.

But it was all she could do to stop herself from falling apart completely.

And Tara wasn't sure what was happening anymore.

Brian hadn't pushed her away. He hadn't stopped her, hadn't hesitated for even a moment after that first surprised noise.

No, he'd leaned into it. He'd kissed her back with the kind of intent that only made her angrier, made the fire in her chest blaze so hot she thought she might combust right there.

Because it wasn't supposed to go like this.

His hands slid from her hips, pulling her closer, pressing her tighter against him, and she hated it. Hated the way he responded like this was exactly what he wanted, hated the way he kissed her back like she wasn't just a replacement for you.

And worse than anything, she hated herself for not stopping it.

His hands moved lower, gripping her ass, pulling her even closer, and she felt herself clench her fists tighter into the fabric of his shirt.

She didn't know if it was the alcohol buzzing in her veins, numbing her better judgment, or if it was the anger still consuming her every thought, but she didn't do anything to stop him.

She should've.

But she didn't.

Because in this moment, it wasn't about him. It wasn't even about you. It was about the chaos she felt boiling in her chest, about the way she felt like she was spiraling further and further out of control.

Brian murmured something against her lips—she didn't catch it, didn't even try to—but his hands stayed firm on her, guiding her, pulling her toward the stairs.

And she let him.

Every step felt like she was wading through quicksand, her mind shouting at her to stop, to push him away, to pull herself together. But her body wasn't listening. She didn't know if it was the heat of his hands on her or the fog of alcohol clouding her better judgment, but she let him lead her.

Because stopping meant facing the truth. And Tara wasn't ready to do that.

Not yet.

She'd barely registered how they ended up in the room. One second, she was being pulled up the stairs, Brian's hand gripping hers tightly, and the next, they were in a dimly lit bedroom, the door clicking shut behind them.

Her heart was racing, but not from excitement. There was no thrill, no anticipation, just a gnawing sense of wrongness she couldn't shake. Yet she didn't stop it. She didn't stop him as his hands found her waist, as his lips trailed down her neck. She didn't stop herself from responding, from letting this spiral further than it ever should have.

It was mechanical, empty, and every moment felt like it was happening to someone else. Brian's touch wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't what she wanted. His lips weren't the ones she craved, his hands didn't spark anything but an aching hollowness inside her.

And yet, she let it happen.

Because, for a fleeting second, it felt like power. Like control. Like maybe, just maybe, if she could take this from him—take you from him in some twisted, nonsensical way—it would hurt less.

But it didn't.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word she barely heard, only drove the knife deeper into her chest.

When it was over, the silence was deafening. Tara lay there, staring at the ceiling, her body still and her mind racing. Brian shifted beside her, saying something she didn't hear, and the sound of his voice made her stomach twist. She felt nauseous, disgusted—not with him, but with herself.

What had she done?

Her chest tightened as she fought to keep her breathing steady, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill over. It hadn't helped. It hadn't made anything better. If anything, it had only made everything worse.

Because no matter what she did, no matter how far she went, it would never be enough to make her stop wanting you.

Afterwards Tara laid still, the dim light of the room casting shadows that felt too heavy, too oppressive.

Brian was beside her, breathing evening out as if nothing monumental had just happened. As if this was just another casual moment in his life.

Her mind, however, wouldn't stop.

It wasn't Brian she was thinking about—not the way he'd touched her, not the way he'd looked at her. No, every thought clawed its way back to you.

She pictured you in the bathroom, probably still staring at yourself in the mirror, giddy and flushed. She could almost see your smile, so wide it was infectious, and the way you'd probably tilt your head, trying to relive every second of that kiss.

You'd been dreaming of that moment since second grade, scribbling his name in the margins of your notebooks and lighting up every time he was near. Tara could already imagine how you'd be practically glowing, heart racing with excitement as you ran your fingers over your lips, trying to make the feeling last.

She wanted to hate you for it. But she couldn't. She never could.

You'd come out of that bathroom with a smile so bright it could light up the whole house, your hopeful eyes scanning the crowd as you made your way back to the spot you'd all been standing. And what would you find?

Nothing.

Tara wasn't there. Brian wasn't there.

She could imagine how your smile would falter, confusion settling in as you looked around, searching for the two people who were supposed to be waiting for you. How long would it take for the excitement to drain from your face? How quickly would hope turn to disappointment?

The thought was like a knife twisting in her gut.

And yet, she still couldn't make sense of why she'd done this. Why she'd let it happen. Because it didn't feel like she'd won anything. She hadn't taken Brian away from you. If anything, she'd stolen something from herself—something she could never get back.

Her chest tightened as the realization hit her like a freight train. She hadn't wanted him. She hadn't wanted this.

She'd wanted you.

And now she'd ruined everything.

[thestarlightforge]

Friendly, good natured reminder to the lesbians, as it looks like tonight will be a Wiccan backstory episode.

I love you, I’m with you, and Agatha x Rio will get their turn.

But Billy is a big deal, he’s headlined Marvel Pride literally every year since its inception, and it was horrific what Multiverse of Madness did to him (going from the “love is for souls not bodies” WandaVision ethos to “two of Marvel’s only queer characters exist exclusively in the imagination of the mentally ill woman we’ve now decided is homicidal and suicidal” 🙃).

He needs this moment. Wiccan x Hulkling (Wiccling), Marvel Pride & yes, Wanda—who was also blatantly character assassinated—they need this moment.

Before Jac Schaeffer has to hand them off to another writer (again).

We shouldn’t be in this position: Where Jac Schaeffer has to join the likes of Allan Heinberg, Anthony Oliveira, Tom King and Steve Orlando as Wanda’s cleanup writer in the MCU—battling Michael Waldron and Sam Raimi the way they have long done battle with misogynistic comics writers, like John Byrne and Brian Michael Bendis. Her colleagues should’ve treated WandaVision as the precious gift it was, not left her an editorial mess to clean up.

But this is where we are. Billy, Tommy & Wanda didn’t deserve to be discarded—they deserved proud legacies as representation for the women, people with mental health struggles, and queer youth who look up to them. So she’s fixing it. Then, she’ll get to the lesbians. Have a little faith and

Let her cook.

(And enjoy watching one of my all-time favorite characters step into his own!! Wiccan is a Gem 😊💙 & he supports the lesbians as much as you do, trust, lol.)

[ireallydontknowohcrabs]

brian moser n gf thoughts ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

slightly suggestive, fem prns, fem reader, I would say possessive!brian but he already is?? Just even more ig

OKAY OKAY this idea has been haunting me for so long but I could def see Brian treating his girlfriend almost like an actual doll. Painting her nails, brushing her hair, or buying clothing he thinks would look best on her ༊*·˚

“C’mon baby, just try it on. Do it for me huh?” He coos into your ear, still trying to seem hurt at the fact you initially refused.

It was a babypink spaghetti strap with lace accents paired with a white pullover. He had also bought you a concerningly short plaid creme skirt. You had never worn something so girlish before. It seemed all most a bit odd to you that Rudy wanted to see you in something so dainty, yet scandalous. But If it meant he would shower you with more attention than usual, than you suppose playing dress up f wouldn’t hurt. “Fine, I guess I’ll wear it, it is kinda cute.”

“Great, I know you’ll look beautiful. Light colors always looked good on you” He smiled affectionately, eager to see in the outfit he picked for you.

Brian couldn’t deny it any longer, he was developing some sort of affection for you. He loved how focused you looked whenever you talked about your job and whatever funny coworker you mentioned that day. He loved the way you would joke about the darkest things and make light of it. Occasionally, he would sneak glances and see empty eyes. He wondered if you were also fucked up like him. Wouldn’t that be something, like some sort of homicidal Barbie.

Above all things, he uwanted to protect you, but he also wanted you all to himself. He wanted to control what you wear, how you do your hair. He adored your usual appearance, but something about having this casual dominance over you made something in him long for more. To mark you, claim you, make it known to everyone that you belong to him and him only.

[earthlyangelbby]

Truth or Dare

Part 1

4.7k words

CW: lots of flirting/tension, college!Eddie, roomate!Eddie, kissing, fingering, orgasming, premature orgasm, tickling

Summary: After being treated to pizza, wine coolers, and The Princess Bride by Eddie as an attempt to cheer you up after your breakup. You boldly ask to play truth or dare. Silly dares turn into more intense encounters as Eddie and you explore what all the tension is about.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his signature grin flickering to life at your mischievous tone. “This is your night, sweetheart. What rules are we playing with?”

You tilted your head, a spark of confidence lighting up your expression. “Truth or dare. But—” you paused, smirking, “Nothing illegal, and we each get one skip.”

Eddie leaned back against the headboard, taking a swig of his wine cooler like he was settling in for the main event. “Alright, but don’t blame me when you regret making this deal.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling lighter from the night’s laughter. “You’re stalling. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he answered immediately, the challenge clear in his tone.

You leaned forward, considering him for a moment. “Okay, I dare you to... do your best impression of Westley’s ‘As You Wish’ without sounding like an idiot.”

Eddie sat up dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I've so got this.” He cleared his throat, adopting an exaggerated posh accent. “As... you... wish,” he said, drawing out each word like he was auditioning for a soap opera.

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides. “Oh my God, that was terrible! Westley would be horrified.”

Eddie grinned, unbothered. “You didn’t say it had to be good. Alright, your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, settling back into your pillow.

He tapped his chin, clearly debating. “Alright. Be honest when was the exact moment you realized you were too good for Brian?”

Your smile faded briefly, but it wasn’t pain that lingered—it was relief. “Probably when he started canceling plans to meet halfway without a real excuse,” you admitted. “I think I was just holding on to the idea of what we used to be, not what we were.”

Eddie nodded, his gaze steady. “Good answer. And hey, for what it’s worth, he was never on your level anyway.”

“Flattery won’t save you from my next dare,” you shot back, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said without hesitation.

You grinned. “I dare you to serenade me with the cheesiest love song you can think of. Right now.”

Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“You asked for this!” you teased, pulling a pillow into your lap.

After a moment of thought, Eddie sat up, cleared his throat, and launched into an off-key rendition of I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic flourishes. His voice cracked on the high notes, and you were doubled over laughing before he even hit the chorus.

“You’re insane,” you managed between giggles.

“And yet,” he said, flopping back onto the bed, “you’re loving every second of it.”

“Fine, maybe I am,” you admitted, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “Okay, your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” he asked, smirking.

“Dare,” you challenged, sitting up straighter.

“Alright, this one is a challenge. Time for the happy dance!” He bolts up.

“You’re so on!” You both get up and do the silliest dances you can think of. Sticking your tongues out, twisting your hips, and doing peace signs, you dance until you both get a little tired. Eddie grabs you, pulling you close and into a sway-like dance. He’s panting from laughing and dancing. “You so win princess buttercup.” He says with a wink and a grin.

“Oh, dread pirate Roberts, thank you for saving me from being so sad with your excellent dance skills!” you snort a real genuine laugh, throwing your head back. He spins you around and bows. He had a way of making everything fun. Both of you make your way back to your bed. You smile, sighing out a breath. “Arg, truth or dare, dread pirate?”

Eddie balances himself on his hands and shakes his hair back before looking at you. “Let’s do a truth this time, buttercup.”

“Have you ever been in love before?” you looked at him so intently searching for the feeling on his face.

Eddie looked off to the side blinking a few times before meeting your gaze. “Yeah. Or at least I think I was. There was a girl who I had an amazing summer with, but she wasn’t from Hawkings, and she went back home. She wanted me to follow her, but I couldn't because too much shit was going on and I didn’t have the money, so we fought over the phone, and that was that.” Eddie sat up crisscrossed in front of you.

Your expression softened, and you touched his hands. “I had no idea, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

A smile tugged the corner of his lips and he turned his hand over to cup yours. “Sweetheart, that happened years ago. I don't dwell on it anymore. Now truth or dare?”

Your thumb rubbed against his hand absently. “I think I’ll go dare this time Eddie.”

“I dare you to tell me something that you have never told anyone else before.”

Your cheeks tingle in embarrassment. “Okay, but you have to close your eyes, and I’ll whisper it to you.”

A wide grin formed on his face and his eyes lit up. “Oh sweetheart this must be good. I’ll close my eyes I promise.” his eyes squeezed shut.

You shuffled on your knees, leaned over to his ear, and whispered, “While I was at summer camp when I was 15, I wrote these ridiculous, sexy love confessions to my counselor and left them in his bunk secretly. I know they were found because word spreads fast at summer camp. The girl counselors swore it was this one girl counselor and then she was fired because it was so inappropriate. I was so mortified that all the counselors and the camp owner read it. I couldn’t admit to it and you’re the only person besides me that knows the truth.” You leaned back sitting in front of him.

Eddie's mouth is hung open, and their eyes are wide, “Oh my god, your horniness got someone fired. Sweetheart that’s crazy! I have to know what it said.”

“No way Eddie! I can’t say that right now!” you pushed at him. “Now your turn. Truth or dare Munson?”

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in close to your face. “Dare me.”

You smirked, feeling bold. “Alright, Eddie. I dare you to put on my red shorts and walk out wearing just that. They’re in the top right of my closet.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, then narrowed with playful defiance. “Your shorts? The ones that are basically a crime against fabric?”

“That’s the dare. Take it or skip it. You get one skip.” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“As you wish sweetheart,” he said, sauntering toward your closet, “you have no idea what you just started.” he huffed.

He disappeared behind the door, and you could hear the rustling of fabric, followed by a few exaggerated grunts and muttered curses. “These are tiny! I feel like I’m in a speedo!” he yelled.

Eddie emerged from the closet wearing your red running shorts, and the sight nearly knocked you off the bed. You'd seen him shirtless but now you're really looking. His body is covered in tattoos. The shorts were comically tight, the hem barely reaching the tops of his thighs, and the bold color made the entire situation even more absurd. He strutted out like he was on a catwalk, hands on his hips and a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

“Is it all you ever imagined?” " he quipped, twirling for effect.

Your eyes go immediately to his bulge, clutching a pillow to your chest as you try to seem like you aren't staring. You attempt to cover your intrigue with a giggle. “Wow. I mean, Oh my God, Eddie. You look like a camp counselor!” you teased.

“Yeah I heard you like those.” he teased back.

Your heart was pounding a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “I was just saying since those are mine from camp. I was a counselor for a couple of summers.” You stammered around it but seeing him like this made you flustered.

But you can’t help it; you eye him up and down, covering the bottom half of your face with your pillow. That would make him not notice you noticing him right?

Eddie smirked, clearly loving the attention. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s your turn.” His grin turned wicked. “I dare you to put on that red lace lingerie in your closet and keep it on for the game.”

Instantly your smile faded, replaced by a stunned look. “What? No way.”

“Fair’s fair, sweetheart. I mean you can always pass,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “You dared me into these bad boys,” he gestured at the shorts, “and I’m keeping them on. So you have to do the same.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, standing and grabbing the hanger from the closet. “You better not laugh.”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up three fingers. But the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

A few minutes later, you stepped out in the red lace lingerie, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself. The set was elegant but undeniably sexy, with all delicate straps and sheer panels. It hugged you in your hips and under your bust. You felt completely exposed but were determined not to let Eddie see you squirm.

His reaction was immediate. The smug grin on his face faded, replaced by wide eyes and a rare moment of silence. He blinked, his gaze flickering between your face and the lingerie. “Woah,” he finally muttered, his voice lower than before. “You look… a-amazing.”

Your cheeks burned, but you rolled your eyes to hide your nerves. “You’re just saying that because you dared me, Eds.”

“No, not even close,” he said, his grin slowly returning. “But I think I won.”

You sat back down on the bed, crossing your legs and pretending like this was totally normal. “Alright, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Eddie said immediately, still grinning.

You tilted your head, thinking. “I dare you to go outside and do a lap around the house in those shorts.”

He laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “Nice try, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Pass.”

“Coward,” you teased.

“Call it what you want,” he said with a shrug. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, keeping your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

He tapped his chin, clearly savoring the moment. “Why’d you agree to wear that? Was it just to win the dare, or… something else?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The room felt warmer all of a sudden, the air heavier. “Maybe… a little bit of both,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

His grin softened into something warmer, his eyes lingering on yours. “Fair enough.”

Wanting the air to find its way back into your lungs, you inhale and sigh out, “Uh alright….truth or dare”? Your voice is higher than you meant.

Eddie pursed his lips and looked around making it seem like he really thought about it.

“Give me a dare.”

“mmmh- uhh, okay I dare you to go through the process of kissing me without act-”

He interrupts with a big grin, “I got ya, sweetheart.”

Eddie slowly leaned in cupping your face and pushing your hair behind your ear, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips just inches from yours. You could feel the heat from his breath hitting your lips. Which made them feel tingly.

The room seemed to hold its breath as you felt the heat between you intensify, the playful atmosphere shifting into something else entirely. The way his presence made your heart race a little faster, the moment stretched in anticipation.

“Just so you know, I'm a real good kisser,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed so lightly against yours, just a ghost of a touch. It was enough to send a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, all the teasing felt real, too real.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn’t decide whether to pull away or lean in closer. His eyes were soft now, and there was something in them, a quiet sincerity mixed with that signature teasing streak, but it was enough to make your pulse spike.

You both stayed there, close enough to feel the heat, but just out of reach. "Eddie..." you whispered, your voice shaking just a little.

He smiled, a little too knowingly, and pulled back and kissed your forehead, his gaze soft but still playful. "Your turn, sweetheart," he said, voice almost too smooth, leaving you breathless and your heart still pounding in your chest.

The air between you was different now, charged with a deeper tension. “Dare!” it came out fast. Your heart beats out of your chest.

Eddie clapped his hands together with a devilish grin, his laughter filling the room. "Here's the dare," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Let me trace my fingers wherever I want, and you have to stay still. I'll stop the moment you say you can't handle it anymore. Sound fair?"

Your eyebrows shot up, heat rushing to your cheeks. "W-wherever you want?" you stammered, your voice faltering under the weight of his gaze. “That's... a bit much, don't you think?"

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Only if you overthink it," he said with a wink. "What's the matter? Scared you can't handle a little tickling?"

You huffed out a breath, pushing down the nervous flutter in your chest. Feeling emboldened, you crossed your arms. "I'm not scared of being tickled, Eddie. Do your worst."

His grin widened, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. He leaned forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the gentlest touch.

"Good," he murmured. "Just lay back for me. Close your eyes and trust me."

You lay back hesitantly, but his steady presence made you feel safer than you'd expected. When his fingers glide lightly over your collarbones, an involuntary shiver rippled through you. The sensation was electric, subtle, and far more intense than you'd

anticipated.

"Reacting already?” Eddie said, his voice low and amused.

You twitched slightly, unable to suppress your body's reaction, but you bit back a reply. His fingers moved deliberately, trailing up the sides of your neck and across your shoulders. The touch was maddeningly light, and every nerve seemed to awaken under his hands.

"You're holding up better than I thought," he mused, his tone a mixture of teasing and admiration. "But how much more can you take this? Getting to be too much, sweetheart?"

You scoffed, tilting your chin defiantly. "I can handle it," you said, though your voice betrayed the slightest tremor. His grin turned almost predatory as his fingers drifted down your arms, tracing the delicate lines of your wrist and elbow. The strokes were slow and deliberate, lulling and igniting you at the same time. When your eyes fluttered open, you caught him watching you, his expression softer but still filled with an intense focus. "Most people would've given up by now,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think you actually like it."

Your throat tightened, and you

swallowed hard, your words catching in your throat. "You're not... done yet, are you?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he shifted closer, lying on his side as his hand rested lightly on your ribs. "Not if you don't want me to be," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

The words left your lips before you could stop them. "I don't want you to stop," you admitted, your gaze locking with his. "I dare you to keep going."

"As you wish sweetheart," Eddie murmured, his grin deepening. His fingers continued their exploration, tracing down your ribs to your stomach. The touches were light, deliberate, and agonizingly slow, stopping just above the waistband of your panties before gliding back up. A soft moan escaped you, unbidden, and your body reacted instinctively, your breath hitching as your nipples hardened against the fabric of your bra. "I knew you liked it," he teased, his voice laced with triumph.

His fingers traveled lower, ghosting along the curve of your hips, down your thighs, and slowly inwards. The teasing lightness of his touch made your body jerk involuntarily, the tension building with every motion. His fingers brushed faintly over your mound, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, and he stilled for a moment, his gaze meeting yours again.

"I don't want to rush this," he said, his voice husky and filled with want. "I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?"

Your heart raced as you nodded, your voice coming out in a desperate whisper. "Please."

He leaned in, studying your face as if committing every detail to memory. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin as he closed the gap between you. Eddie’s lips brushed against yours, his kiss soft but deliberate, testing your response. His hand moved slowly, tracing the curve of your waist, and the sensation sent a shiver through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours as his dark eyes searched your face.

He is a good kisser.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but hinting with something vulnerable, like he needed to hear your answer.

You nodded, your breath catching as his thumb brushed a slow circle against your hip. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. “Better than fine.”

His grin returned, small but genuine, and his hand resumed its gentle exploration

His lips met yours in a kiss that was wild and unrestrained, a sharp contrast to the gentleness of his touch earlier. The taste of him-faintly sweet from the wine coolers with a lingering hint of smoke-flooded your senses. His tongue brushed against yours, and you welcomed it, your breaths mingling as the kiss deepened. His other hand continued its slow exploration, tracing along the seam of your panties and then up your abdomen, skimming the edge of your bra. You break the kiss for a moment, voice sultry "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" you tease, your eyes dancing with mischief. He smirks, the corner of his mouth curving upward, his breath warm against your skin.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replies, that same playful glint in his eyes. You can feel the heat radiating between you, igniting a fire that is impossible to ignore.

He leans in again, capturing your lips with his, the kiss pulling you deeper into the moment. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling as you pull him closer, wanting to lose yourself in him entirely.

Slowly, he pulls back, his gaze searching yours, a mix of desire and tenderness shining through. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs, his voice low and inviting. You can feel your heart racing, anticipation and excitement swirling within you as you consider how to respond.

“I want you Eddie,” you whisper. His eyes widen slightly at your boldness and he grins down at you.

He laughs not at you directly but at how suddenly shy you have gotten. “I want you too. I really do. Just tell me if you want to stop at any point. Alright, sweetheart?”

You nod up at him looking into his eyes. “Mmhmm.” Your heart raced. His words, “I want to feel everything, Eddie.” You brushed your fingers against his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips. “I want to feel you.”

Eddie‘s expression shifted, the teasing glint in his 5 fingers are now more firm, rubbing circles at your opening through the fabric. “Tell me what you want or I’ll stop,” he murmured

“Take them off. I wanna feel you!” you cried out. He grabbed the hem on each side and pulled them off of you much less gently than with your bra. Returning his fingers to your slit and finding your sensitive clit. With his other hand working at your opening. He pushed two fingers into you. It felt so good to finally have his hands on you like this. He worked his fingers nice and slow while his other hand focused on your clit. Your body reacted with little jerks.

“Like that? Is that what you wanted? Is that what you like?” he grunted out.

You breathed out little whimpers and moans, trying to find words to say back to him, and finally, you stuttered out. “Yes! Just like that” you arched and tightened.

“God you're so tight around my fingers”

He curled his fingers inside you and found the spot. He pressed into it and rubbed circles on your clit. The static inside you was growing even more. “I like the way your body jerks under my touch.” Eddie leaned down in between your legs and started licking swipes on your clit. His fingers pumped into you slow and deep. The static is all-consuming in your body. You can feel it even down in your toes.

“You’re so good” is all you can say.

Eddie's pace quickened at your words, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm with the static building in you. He looked up for a moment, locking eyes with you as if he wanted to drink in every detail of your pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, the vibration sending another shiver down your spine. “Let it go.”

Your body was already responding, the pressure coiling tighter within you as you held onto the sheets. “Let it happen,” he encouraged, his eyes dark and full of desire as he worked you through your climax. You cried out, the sound of your voice mixing with his groans of appreciation as your body seized and tightened around his fingers. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, and the world around you melted away.

As Eddie continued to work his fingers inside you, the warmth and wetness enveloped him. It sparked something deep within him it was a mix of desire and pleasure that was almost overwhelming. Your body responded to his every movement, tightening around his fingers as the waves of your high pulsed, and it ignited a fire inside him that he hadn’t anticipated. “Eddie! Feels so good Eddieee. You're so good! Please don’t stop” you begged.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, his voice strained with effort. “You’re so—so tight.” The way you surrendered to pleasure was intoxicating, and the sight of your bliss brought him dangerously close to the edge of his control.

When your body began to tremble and your breath hitched, Eddie felt the pressure coiling within him, nearly overwhelming as your walls clenched around his fingers. “Please. Please, don’t stop,” you gasped, driving him wild with need.

“I won't,” he gasped out, his heart racing. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your skin, savoring every second of this moment as his fingers continued finally finding the perfect rhythm. But the combination of your moans and the way you tightened around him was becoming too much.

“I’m cumming! Oh god! Eddie I’m-“ you broke off into moans grinding back down onto his fingers, he felt it…the wave of pleasure crashing over you, and in the tide of your release, he lost control too.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie gasped, his own body responding involuntarily. A pulse of heat shot through him, and he felt himself teetering dangerously close to the edge. He was still seated between your legs, his fingers buried deep inside you, and the sensations were so intense that he couldn’t hold back. Without warning, he found himself succumbing as waves of pleasure washed over him too.

His fingers stilled inside you, but the sensation of your body still clenching around him sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through him. “Oh, damn it!” he exclaimed, the pleasure mingling with surprise as he felt himself spill over, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.

You opened your eyes wide, your high fading momentarily as Eddie’s reaction hit you. “Eddie?!”

He cursed under his breath, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering bliss. “I—I didn’t mean to! You just felt so good, and…”

“Did seeing me really make you?” You cut him off, intrigued.

He met your eyes with a soft smile, “Honestly? Yeah,” Eddie said, voice low and sincere. “Seeing you like that, feeling you, hearing you… it was something else.”

“I- just haven't ever really felt like I was sexy like that. Like the type of sexy to make a guy cum without touching him. That’s like reserved for ultra ethereal beauties.” Your cheeks burned.

Eddie leans in slightly, “Well, maybe I think you’re an ultra ethereal beauty.”

You chuckled, the warmth of his compliment mixing with your lingering embarrassment. “I honestly didn't expect any of this but I'm glad it happened”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Believe me, I definitely didn’t expect this to happen. I mean, I’ve been trying not to trip over my words around you for months, and here I am, making a spectacle of myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his candidness. “At least I wasn’t the only one surprised then. It’s kind of funny, honestly. We’ve been roommates for a year, and I didn’t think we’d ever cross this line.”

He leaned back, slightly bashful, and you could see that familiar pink hue still lingering on his cheeks. “Yeah, but seriously, that was… wow. I didn’t know just looking at you could do that. There’s definitely something about you.”

With a teasing roll of your eyes, you nudged him playfully. “Well, I guess all those times I walked around in my pajamas and you casually told me I looked nice. I guess that wasn’t just roommate kindness, huh?”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, you caught me. I might have had more than a few moments where I thought, ‘Wow, my roommate is hot.’ But I didn’t want to make things weird. I mean you had a boyfriend.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission. “Wait, so you actually think I’m cute?”

“Cute? You’re more than cute. You’re absolutely captivating,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “And honestly, after tonight, I kind of want to see where this goes beyond just being roommates.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you sensed the tension between you shifting into something softer yet full of potential. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah, I do,” he confessed, his gaze steady on yours. “I’d love to take you out on a proper date. We can still have all the fun we just had, trust me I had lots of fun. I learned a lot about you. But I wanna know more.”

You felt a rush of warmth inside, excitement bubbling as you processed his offer. “That sounds… amazing. I’d really like that.”

Eddie smiled back, relief evident on his face. “Good. Because I’m still kind of embarrassed about everything, but I’m really happy it happened.”

“Same,” you admitted, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I didn’t think I could feel that way, let alone with you, of all people.”

“Yeah? It feels kind of unreal, doesn’t it?” He laughed softly, the tension easing as you both began to gather your clothes. “But I’m glad it happened. Just… wow.”

As you both started to clean up, playful banter filled the air between you, your laughter echoing around the room while you both recounted some of the sillier dares and the ones that shook you to your cores. Once you finished freshening up and were back in cozy pajamas.

Eddie grabbed at your hand pulling you into his room and you followed without question. “Since we kinda messed up all of your sheets, do you wanna sleep in my room with me? We can plan that date out before we fall asleep,” Eddie looked down at you sweetly.

Your heart felt fuzzy. “I'd love too Eddie”

You both slipped under the blankets. Eddie laid on his back and lifted his arm up inviting you to cuddle. You shuffled over to him and laid your head on his chest. As he ran his fingers through your hair he whispered

“I thought about our date and I want to take you to the Planetarium?” His heart beating out of his chest.

“That sounds perfect Eddie” you could hear his heart steady. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight buttercup,” Eddie murmured.

Tag list: @avalon-wolf

[upmost-rylan]

S/O DATING THE CREEPYPASTAS *✧⁺˚⁺ପ(๑・ω・)੭ु⁾⁾

Author's note:

This was just supposed to be a #Rylan Rambles but u h I may have gone too far. So THIS IS MESSY SINCE I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. so please don't expect anything good, I am good at art not story things.

T.w.:

for Eyeless Jack's part is cannibalism ofc

Jeff the killer

Jeff's type is very motherly like he loves a partner who's sweet but will basically drag him by the ear and lecture him for being a bitch. he is loving and sweet in his own way BUT you do have to have thick skin. at least for a while. he'll be throwing every insult in the book at you trying to get you away from him. he is scared of being vulnerable. So as he figures out his emotions it'll definitely be rough for a while and if you play into the "bit" and insulting him back, HE'D BE BLUSHING thinking you know how he feels. Be prepared since that'll be you two's love language! But for anyone who wants a relationship with this man there will definitely be some obstacles with him not being able to properly communicate his emotions in a healthy manner, his anger issues, the fact that this is probably his first ever relationship so it'll be rocky no matter what you do. But when you get over those obstacles and you are still there holding his hand with a smile you'll have a boyfriend FOR LIFE. Also become a sweetheart for those who love the idea of Jeff being soft to his partner.

Eyeless jack

His type to me personally is someone who treats him like he is a normal human being. That's it that's the one thing that'll make him fall head over heels in LOVE with you. But bonus points if you like to crack jokes and puns those ALWAYS make him laugh! He is a simple demon. However, THIS relationship is very much a MESS for at least the first half of it, you're in a relationship with a giant fluffy demon who eats human flesh did you expect it to be normal? This relationship is definitely a game of tug of war of him wanting to basically make you his dinner and wanting to keep you around because he loves you. You'd have to walk a really thin line to make sure this demon doesn't take one of your kidneys. But after a LONG while he'd start to actually act normal for the MOST part. Listen, I love to imagine this guy to be VERY creaturely. you know this if you have seen my design of him after a one or two years of being around you and not eating you; he leave a corpse (whether it's human or animal up to you) at your door like it's some gift from one giant cat.

Tim Wright/Masky

Tim/Masky's type is very "wife"-like if that makes sense (I headcanon him to be Bi-romantic Ace-spec so gender doesn't matter) like Tim to me loves the idea of having the white picit fence dream! it lets him feel like he's normal even for abit. Loves the idea of coming home from work to hug his partner from behind as he watches them cook dinner. Very domestic very demure. To most he's a pretty rough guy considering Masky but to me he's definitely a softy. compliment him and he'll be putty in your hands. 10/10 would 10000% smooch. But you two definitely sometimes have some trouble especially when Masky takes over. With that one YOU WILL N O T be able to sleep. every time you try to sleep be prepared to be shaken awake because masky finds it funny to startle you awake.

Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Listen we had Tim now we gotta do Brian, THEY ARE TWO PEAS IN A BOD YALL👏. His type to me personally is just a funny good vibes person, who loves being on the go and not in one place for too long. Now, this relationship is basically MADE OUT OF POSITIVE VIBES. Brian to me is definitely the type to praise his partner AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAY he is a absolute sweetheart. You'd also definitely love him if you like nature walks and hikes. You definitely had to be the first to confess though because if you didn't this situation would definitely be just mutual pining. Also definitely the type to always be following behind his partner since I like to think bro is a TALL man, he wants you to see whats Infront of you and not block the way. His nickname for his partner something nature relationship "duckling" "lil mushroom" "sunshine" or something similar!

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 11

            Brian walked into the building of the marketing firm. Although Brian was never the center of attention, he was fairly sociable at work. He was pretty well liked and respected by his colleagues. His hard work and leadership had elevated him to senior project planner. The promotion had not only greatly enhanced his salary, but it came with a private office and a personal secretary.

            Brian felt so nervous as he walked through the front doors. He was certain that everyone would notice his attire. I just need to make it to my office and everything will be just fine. He prayed that no one would stop him for Monday morning chit chat. A few people nodded good morning, but he made it to office without delay. He closed the door behind and let out a sigh of relief. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to hide all day, but he would try to as much as he could.

            He turned on his computer and attempted to focus his attention on his work. He reached into his bag to grab his glasses, but as his hand searched the bag he felt something he didn’t expect. Inside were two additional pull-ups and his pacifier. Taped to one of the pullups was a note from Rebecca:

            Mommy wanted to make sure you were prepared. Remember its ok if you have an accident. Mommy loves you.

Brian quickly zipped up the bag and tried to refocus, but just the mere sight of the pull-up clouded his thinking. He stared blankly at his screen when a knock at the door, “Mr. Sullivan, may I come in?” It was his secretary, Samantha Carson. She was a very shapely woman with long blonde hair in her mid-twenties. She was the type that caused heads to turn as she passed by. She could have men under her spell without uttering a single word. Although it was impossible to not be captivated by her beauty, Brian always displayed the greatest kindness and respect. She noticed that he was different from so many other men. Most men were just dogs wanting to get her into bed. But Brian treated her as a professional and never as an inferior. She wasn’t just a secretary. He valued her opinion and input on projects. She admired how fiercely devoted he was to his wife and wished that she could find a partner like him.

            “Yes, Ms. Carson, please come in,” Brian said. Samantha walked in. As he looked up from his computer, his eyes focused on her bosom. For a moment, all he wanted was to be nursed. He quickly caught himself and turned his attention to her face, hoping she didn’t notice his stare. “How was you weekend?” he asked.

            “Oh it was fine, never long enough,” revealing her radiant smile.

            Brian chuckled, “I know the feeling.”

            “Your 12pm meeting was rescheduled for Friday. Oh and Mr. Gates scheduled a meeting at 2 this afternoon. Something about a new project for Babies R Us.”

            Brian felt like his cheeks started burning when he heard the word babies. Oh my god. Do they know? He has to know. Why else would he put me on this project? He glanced back up at her. She can tell I am wearing a pull-up can’t she? His palms felt sweaty and he curtly responded, “Ok that’s fine.” A small spurt of pee escaped into his pull-up.

            “Mr. Sullivan, are you ok?,” she was genuinely concerned. The look of worry on his face made her want to comfort him. Brian noticed that her face did not convey even the slightest sense of judgement.

            “I am just a little tired and out of sorts this morning. I will be ok,” Brian responded.

            “Ok, but if there is anything I can get you. Anything at all, just let me know.”

Brian thanked her as she exited his office. He tried to calm himself down and slow his breathing. He glanced at his bag sitting next to his desk. Maybe just for a minute. He reached into and retrieved his pacifier. He placed it between his lips and he immediately felt calmer. After a few minutes, he felt he had regained his composure. As he went to return the pacifier to his big, a knock came at his door again, drawing his attention to the door. He let the pacifier slip from his hand, thinking it landed in his bag. “Come in.”

[creative-clawmarks]

Funny concept but imagine this, Brian took Tim to the pet store once before things ever got out of hand and whatever Tim thought he might like at all Brian bought for him and he still has that stuff even if they're mildly destroyed even after Brian becomes a ghost and when he stole Tim's pills he found the stash and needed to just take a minute before he could get back to being the pill gremlin

I love this idea so much holy shit it's adorable. And sad, of course, it always wraps around to being sad with us, but for now I just wanna think about Tim being treated as sub-human while institutionalized and then masking so so hard when he got out into the world and Brian, just, giving him the space to be himself. I think I'm gonna cry actually.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

KO-FI

[devilish-blue]

eyeless jack and or hoodie somno ? or what it’s like dating them with a nsfw part 🙏🙏 we’re thirsting rn

Oh my God. This took so long for me to do mainly because i procrastinated, but whatever. Anyways! I absolutely loved this idea and just had to do it! So i hope you like it.

!!Headcannons!!

!!TW!!: Somnophilia, mentions of other various kinks, mentions of Mean! Jack, cunnilingus. Let me know if i missed any!!)

Brian/Hoodie:

Now, to start, there is a big difference in Brian and Hoodie. Brian is well, Brian. I like to think of him as a big southern teddy bear. While it might be unpopular, I don’t really care. Hoodie, on the other hand, is ruthless, and mean. He doesn’t really seem to care all that much. So how would dating them be?

Brian, like I said, is a big ol’ teddy bear when it comes to you. He adores you and loves to spoil you with bear hugs and smothering you in kisses. Not to mention, he bulks, so not only does he have muscle, he has a big build making him huge compared to you. Perfect for being choked by his bicep- I mean, who said that?

Moving on, we have Hoodie. Now Hoodie is a killer, a cold killer who doesn’t seem to care. Thankfully the only times you really see Hoodie is when he gets home from a mission and Brian hasn’t regained control yet. During these times he usually tries to stay away from you. Maybe it’s because Brian doesn’t want Hoodie to hurt you so he might still be the tiniest bit in control.

However, sometimes you can’t help but need to be near your boyfriend, so even when Hoodie was Hoodie you’d still come up to him and hug him, but he would just stand there or put his hands on your hips.

Onto hornier details, kinks. Brian might seem like a vanilla guy at first glance, but he’s most definitely not. Does he like Somno? Yes. At first, he hated the thought of taking advantage of you while you were sleeping, but when you said you were into it? He tried it the following night and he fell in LOVE with it. The sight of you shaking and whimpering in your sleep only to wake up with Brian’s thick cock in your hole? Hooked.

Of course there’s other kinks, choking, degrading, dirty talking, pet names, etc. But there is just a special place in his heart for Somno and knife play. But that’s for a different time. ;p

Does Hoodie like Somno? Is that even a question? Of course he does! He loves to get home from long missions and walk in your room and to find you sleeping. Because that means he can use your body and not have to hear you complain about how tired you are as he fucks you.

He also has other kinks, choking, impact play, knife play, blood play, even some BDSM, but it's not often that you screw Hoodie anyway so you’ll be healed by next time. ;p

Eyeless Jack:

Oh Anon, don’t I have a treat for you. Jack was a big, intimidating guy, he’s a demon after all. But he’s sweet. Most of the time. Most of the time he’s a big affection, and loving boyfriend, but other times, he’s the opposite. He’s cruel and distant. He even sometimes insults you, but you know he doesn’t really mean it. Right?

But after these little spurts of hate, he apologizes, gives you cuddles, hugs and kisses but if you go to bed angry? He doesn’t like that because he knows he made you mad, so he likes to give you a nice surprise.

He had always thought about fucking you while you were sleeping, but now he had a reason. So there he was under the blanket in between your legs licking your aching and dripping hole. He was happening you would wake up in a panicked and blissful mess and that’s exactly what you were. You woke up and you felt hot and a wet sensation on your lower half. You looked down in a panic but that panic was soon taken over by relief and then ecstasy as your body trembled and convulsed as you came. Who knew three tongues could feel so good?

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Wait, hang on, that's adorable. Slenderdad is so cute!

Out of curiosity, who are his top picks for potential suitors for his kid?

Thank yooouuu I love Slenderdad content :))

As for his top picks from the mansion, out of the ladies I’d say Jane is probably his first pick, but really I think he’d be fine with Natalie or Kate too because he knows they’re nice girls. I think Jane would just be the first choice because she’s also a team leader and she’s the most responsible and level headed out of the three of them.

For the guys… He’s pickier. My first choice is Tim. Tim is the most responsible, and he would be a good guiding presence (could also swing Brian as well) if we’re thinking based on responsibility.

I also wanna say Jason, because Jason treats his partners like royalty and is very respectful. He would spoil you rotten with gifts and affection and always keep his eyes on you.

Next, and this might be a shock, I’m gonna say Jeff. Does Jeff have his fair set off issues? Absolutely. However, he’s one of the team leaders in the mansion, he works very well with others, he’s got a good relationship with Slender, he’s kind and he loves making people laugh so Slender knows he’ll keep you happy.

My honorary fourth pick is gonna go to Hobo. Hobo is one of the sweetest in the mansion, very dependable, very conscious of his actions and mature, very demure, very mindful. Very soft and a good caretaker who protects those close to him.

I feel like Slender could tolerate you dating anyone in the mansion as your father, but those are his definite first picks if he was to play match maker.

[booliuu]

˗ˏˋToby Headcanons..PT2ˎˊ˗

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : this is a continuation of my first headcanons oh him. Here’s the * link* if you haven’t check it out yet, btw thanks for almost 50 likes😭😭 you guys are so sweet!! anyways enjoy of me rambling about this man again :DD🫶🏼

• my inbox is open for ask and requests!!

* pictures i’m using: pinterest 🫶🏼

🪓 . . He’s a taurus baaabies ( b-day April 28th! mark your calendars right now !!) .. may i add something too👉👈 i just know in the bottom of my heart my man def has a sagittarius moon placement or lots of fire signs placements in his birth chart. SCORPIO VENUS TOO 👀👀 he loves so intenselyyy. okok anyways-

🪓 . . He has so many piercings!! I can definitely say on his face he has a septum , nostril , bridge ,and a snake bite 😮‍💨. And for his ears he has industrial, lobes ( thought about stretching his lobes but is too scared lol) and conches done.

➯ went a bit crazy with his piercing bc his parents were so against him getting them done during his high school years. But now that he’s an adult he goes all out.

➯ takes great care of them too! ^^

🪓 . . wears fingerless gloves to mange with his rlly bad hand picking habit. don’t have nails bc how bad his his habits are :((.

🪓 . . Owns a lot of graphic tee’s and most of them are bands that he never heard of before lmao same🥲. Whatever shirt he’s wearing that day a creep or random ppl ask him what’s his favorite song or album is , he gets all awkward and he’s stands like an idiot like🧍.

➯ all sorts of baggy and ripped jeans as well ! Not a fan of tight clothes. Absolutely despises them.

🪓 . . has LOTS of scars that goes all the way back from his childhood.

🪓 . . Him & Tim before DID NOT get along at all. MAJOR BEEF WITH EACH OTHER 😭. whenever both of them were assigned on missions together, they ALWAYS be arguing about the littlest things.

* this is looong sorry ><i just love the idea that tim cares for toby. so bare with meee🥹🥹

➯ Mainly because tim behavior rubs toby the wrong way. It reminds him of his father in some ways and gets highly defensive whenever tim tells him what to do or criticizes him.

➯ Tim thinks toby as a ruthless teenager ( even though he clearly knows he an adult.) thinks he needs to be told what to do at all times . Even though he a rough exterior … little does toby know he cares about toby a lot. But of course there both to stubborn as hell to tell each that 😑.

➯ until one day toby accidentally let a victim loose. when tim found out got extremely upset at toby. The yelling definitely brought Toby thoughts of his father, as a defense mechanism toby argued back . Got a bit physical but overall LOTS of yelling, brian ( the savior-) had to step in and tell them to get over it and be nice to each for once.

➯ took a WHILE for them to apologize but they did eventually. was a bit awkward but hey at least there over it :,D . Now of days they almost have a father and son dynamic. Sometimes when both of have free time tim will show toby how to fix up a car, how to cook on a grill , yk bonding.

➯ brings Toby lots of nostalgia and confusion because he never treated like this by a man before bc the only nice people he was surrounded by in his whole life was just his mom and his sister . so surely his inner child is slowly healing. when he actually took a chance and thought about tim’s behavior towards him one night, he had to sit down for bit , beer in hand ( definitely not given by tim-) cry for a bit while tim rubs his back in comforting way while smoking a cigarette ofc.

🪓 . . owns torn up converse and doc martens. TONS of hoodies, leather jackets and winter jackets!

🪓 . . HIS ROOM!! oh good god…it’s so unorganized. mostly because his collection of clothes he picked up over the years that he borrowed TvT iykyk… never bothers to clean it. his own words not mine

Toby: “ it’s my man c-cave. my rules.”

Tim: *SIGHS*“ jesus fucking christ….. your a mess.”

🪓 . . Speaking of his room it has lots of band posters and tapestry’s!

🪓 . . Knows so much animals facts.. it’s actually scary but entertaining.he literally bring up in random ways possible. that’s toby for yea..!! :DD

🪓 . . His favorite animals consists of what’s around him in the slender forest. such deers, raccoons, fox & wolf , birds , bears and has a love for reptiles as well.

🪓 . . lol if your scared of bugs i feel sorry for you , reptiles or just any animals i have listed…he’s def the type of friend that has it cupped in his hand and shoving it in your face. Lives for your reaction. 🩷

🪓 . . a bit awkward and has a cold front when you first meet him. he likes to observe, doesn’t trust ppl easily. If he likes you slowly opens his shell and he shows his true colors such being a little shit, teasing you playful ofc, butting head with you 24/7. eeehh..but if he hates you good luck with this one… he make it known he doesn’t like you . you won’t know but others who know him do.

🪓 . . Growing up he was known for being the shy quiet kid that never speaks up for himself. He thinks about it now and really started changing meaning slowly and eventually he became more confident. like throwing sarcastic comments , knows lots of good clap backs or calling out’s if someone offended him or something. he’s changed man guys nothing like his younger self. proud of him 🥹

🪓 . . I see ppl saying that he’s the kind of friend that wants to be around you 24/7. 100% agree 👍 . yk hanging out in yours or his rooms for like smoke breaks, joining you during missions, watching tiktok’s & sending them to you even though your in the same room as he is , or even just simply pure silent and just basking in each others presence.

Toby: t-t-this is so you…

Toby: * sents you a tiktok*

You: bruh wtfff

* cue him laughing his ass off

🪓 . . Going to the local drug store to grab some slushes and junk food. HE LIVES FOR THOSE HANGS OUTS. TELL ME IM WRONG.

› › › i’ll make sure to be more in depth with this one :3 so be in a look out for some platonic toby headcanons in the future!!! ^^

🪓 . . Everytime someone says toby loves waffles sighs…. man i’m telling you right now an angel loses it wings ☹️ 👎. He has extended food palette than that y’all c’mon.

🪓 . . i mean it’s not the best diet… it literally just energy drinks but at least his friends look out for him and leave him take out because they know he doesn’t feel hunger like we do.

🪓 . . due to that, he has a lean built. Has a bit of a 6 pack ( you have to squint to see em ) and has muscles on his arms . He’s really proud of his arms lol. Has a bit of beard?? Scruff?? idk what’s it’s called going on too ^^ shaves ones in a while. aaaand..hehe has a happy trail situation... ANYWAYSSSS that’s for next time 😉.

🪓 . . yk how how i said he has a collection of phones he… collected *cough🪓🪓 cough*… firm believer he has playlist in each phone of them that consists of western emo music. also.. DAD ROCK .

🪓 . . his favorite weather has to be autumn because the animals around forest comes out more and he hangs out and pets all of them. likes looking at the trees and how each of the leaves are changing colors.

🪓 . . his joints pop loud real bad whenever he stretching , walking , or running . it pisses him so badly lolll.

🪓 . . loves sleeping and taking naps🫶🏼 whenever or whatever. like tree tops , his bed, closet, ect. hates mornings with passion prefers to sleep in. toby 🤞power naps . downside being that he snores like no one business and moves around his sleep.

🪓 . . blind on his left eye and that same eye has a permanent split eyebrow from the car crash.

🪓 . . Even though i want say he smells like vanilla or something sweet naaah …. srry bby😔. he gotta smell like the woods , dirt, bl*od.. sometimes , or even pinewood. From time to time smells like cheap shampoo and conditioner when he remembers to shower.

🪓 . . lastly his hair.. HIS 👏HAIR 😭😭 it’s so soft…he’s rocking shaggy haircut that tim trims once in a while.

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜: @bloodibambiidol & @kodaswrld ✨ there stuff is cool check it out!

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : HEEEEY IM BACK, i know posted 2-3?? days ago and honestly im so happy to it has so many likes already. thank you so much 🫶🏼 it means so much to me!! i’ll try to post as consistent as i can but no promises. 😣As of right now my wips are a bunch of toby headcanons and one shots i need to finish and post and dw other characters too dww🤍🤍.

* feedback is always welcome. if you like my content please don’t get to like or reblog ^^.

liuuboo2025 do not copy , translate or plagiarize any of my works. thank you ♡ﾟ

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Ticci Toby/Tobias Rogers

Sorry this took so long!! I’ve been contemplating writing one shots, but I feel like I should get the head canons out first. If any of you have any ideas for one shots (x readers, char x char, nsfw), my request box is open! I’ll get around to them as soon as possible. :)

- 5’11! Sleeper build and scrawny, but extremely strong upper arms. He’s not as fast as Kate and Brian, but he makes up for it with how long he can run. He never gets tired and can chase victims for hours. Lots of freckles, too!

- White with mostly German heritage. He doesn’t know very much German, just baseline stuff he learned from his mom. (Connie grew up in Germany until she was 15.)

- Medium brown hair and dark brown eyes. He’s pretty pale, but being outside most of the time he does have a slight tan, lots of freckles too.

- His dad was extremely abusive and would beat him, his mom, and his sister, it was rare for him to not be drunk. Toby killed him only a few hours after his father beat his mom to the point she was unconscious. He’d rather his mom lose both of her children and her abusive husband than endure so much pain, he cared about her more than anything. He didn’t want to sit idly by as he loses his sister and mother.

- His fingers are TORN up. Bites and picks at his nails, cuticles, dry knuckles, all of it. His fingertips and palms are also super calloused.

- Hangs out with Jeff and Ben most of the time. He’s closer to Ben and thinks Jeff’s a douche, but he puts up with him since sometimes the three of them have fun.

- He can be a jerk, but if you’re able to break past his shell he’s super sweet. He’s still sarcastic and snarky, but not necessarily mean. VERY smug.

- Had Jeff do a tattoo of Lyra’s birthday on his shoulder. It turned out surprisingly good. He was originally going to do her death date, but he felt like it was better to honor the time she was alive.

- Halloween junkie. He has a massive sweet tooth and loves autumn, so it’s the perfect day ever in his eyes.

- This guy DESTROYS in poker and blackjack. The few times his dad would spend time with him they’d play together. Even though he hated him, it meant a lot to him when he was little. Has the teeny tiniest gambling addiction, makes a bunch of bets with other residents of the mansion and usually wins.

- MIDWESTERN EMO BOY!!!! I will die on this hill. Music taste, clothing, all of it.

- His tics are pretty rare now that he’s older, but when he’s anxious they get bad.

- Exclusively wears comfortable clothes. Not because he gets uncomfortable, he could (and does) sleep in jeans and not be bothered. When he was younger he would always be forced to wear slacks, dress shoes, button ups, and ties for church or family gatherings. He HATED it.

- Him, Tim, and Brian are usually put on missions together. They’re all pretty compatible, and it’s nice to talk to just some regular ass dudes. Sometimes all three of them will go to run down diner’s if they finished their mission early, it’s the most normality any of them have in their lives.

- He and Tim bicker a LOT, but he secretly find comfort in it. He sees Tim as a protective older brother, rather than someone who just hates him. With how his dad treated him growing up, he thought all arguing was yelling and being aggressive, but Tim’s is more disagreement or annoyance.

- Almost knows how to play the acoustic guitar. He’s a quick learner, but he doesn’t have a crazy strong desire to get better at it.

- Pretty much always wears a big bandaid over his cheek gash. He’s not necessarily insecure about it unless he has a crush on someone, but it’s hard to eat or drink when it’s just open.

- He’s actually not to bad at soccer! Sometimes when it’s nice out him and Cody find a ball and play.

- Anywho, I’m in love with him.

Feedback and requests are welcome! Thank you for reading. :)

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩