#im sorry this is such a jumbled mess

[potetosaradas]

I didn't use to see the appeal of C-137 and Prime but you have moved me because the passion you have had me looking more at it and I'm starting to ship it now. After how you talk in text posts explaining why you ship it. I can see it being that way. It changes how I see everything about the two now.

HHHHHHH!!! ANON!!!

WELCOME ABOARD THE TRAIN WRECK THAT IS PRICKCEST!!! 🥲😭

honestly, everything about prickcest hits so right for me. I mean, theres SO MUCH you can extrapolate from what hasn't been said in canon!

At the very least we know that both of them couldn't let each other go, not even till the very end.

Every stage of prickcest is just SO GOOD. From precanon adventuring to the cheating on your wife phase, to the hatred and obsession we see in canon. You can tell just how obsessed they are with each other. Rick LITERALLY built a prime shrine in his basement like? Prime keeping tabs on Rick for 4 decades? Okay. tell me these bitches arent still secretly in love with each other (jkjk)

there's a lot of symbolism in it for me too, falling in love with yourself, accepting the dark parts of yourself, betraying and denying those parts of yourself but ultimately becoming what you hated? i dont know!!! but its a beautiful mess and that is what prickcest is to me sksksksk

(also id like to add, Prime had every opportunity to kill Rick. He was clearly the stronger Rick, but he never laid a hand on Rick until Rick was ready to face him. I think he still believed he could change Rick, make him see reason. Make him join whatever nefarious agenda he had been cooking up... but i truly believe he missed being partners with Rick. There's something he can't achieve without C137. Im sure of it. too bad he fucking DIED)

[rapidhighway]

Not enough possession in sonic we gotta change that

[volfoss]

i think honestly what irritates me about yoshidas work SO much is that people will tell you that banana fish is THE gay manga (ignoring the many things that came before it and were more groundbreaking, ie MW literally having on screen (or like. on panel but still.) gay sex in it and that came out like a decade before BF did) when there really isn't barely any gay rep outside of the pedophiles and the one time ash drops the f slur. like im sorry but somehow yasha, a work she wrote in 1996, has more gay rep in it but also has the same issues.

i truly do not get how people can enjoy banana fish with the rampant racism every 2 pages or the rampant sexual assault plotlines (on women and ash bc he is just... written like how yoshida writes women lmao) that are handled IMPOSSIBLY bad and sincerely i hoped yasha would be better because it had been like a decade or so between works. and then it proceeds to continue with the heres our blonde genius protagonist who everyone is weird as fuck to and will sexually harrass and everyone finds it a VERY funny joke to point out how feminine he is when theres barely any women in the work (if you exclude the ones that are being raped/killed/creepy to minors. which to be fair yasha has toned down the sa a LOT) and that its funny that hes kind of gay except not really!! and its just absurd to me how it just persists in all of her stuff because she is not an author that handles gay stuff well. like the scene in banana fish where ash is completely ok getting gang raped and did it solely to get into the hospital when its been SHOWN that he has a lot of trauma with that. and then right after his friend makes a joke at ash's expense about that. like sincerely and genuinely is this what we are hyping up as the old retro gay manga. go read some tezuka and stop reading shit that the most the main characters do is share a kiss in a nonromantic sense and is obsessed w making every gay person be evil!!

[activesplooger]

update:

hi guys, idk when the next fic will be out and it may not be anytime soon. my sickness is only getting worse and ive now had a fever for over a week now (ten days). it wont go down with advil or any medicine anymore so im just having to go through it which sucks. i have like no motivation to write fics, nor have i had the energy so you guys probably wont see me posting fics or promising to make fics for awhile. youre still open to make requests, however, they wont be fulfilled for awhile. sorry about this.

on the bright side, i may be a liar and have a ton of motivation one day and write a fic. but for now i just cant see myself writing something till i get my energy and fever normal. unfortunately, im chronically fatigued and the medicine im taking is making me drowsier and disoriented so ya fml.

im still down to respond to asks of any sort about anything (aside from requests) and posting little thoughts and generally interacting. this is just an announcement for a hiatus from writing.

rant under cut:

i feel like the doctor totally dismissed me when i came in for a check up. i got a doctor and idk i just felt like they regarded my problems as being over dramatic. idk i could be totally reading into it but i just got like a weird vibe. they would look at me with kind of a unbelieving expression whenever i talked about the extreme symptoms i have. if anything, since ive got the medication they prescribed i feel worse somehow. my dry cough is now wet and my fatigue is up. im just pissed.

again, i could be reading into it and theyre the medical professional so who am i to judge but yeah. im just salty that i still feel like shit tbh.

mono can last for min 2 weeks and max 6 months. literally praying that its 2 weeks. its just getting worse, i feel like shit. :{

[glacialswordsman]

ive been thinking hard about what path hsr yaya would be (in terms of the PLAYABLE paths), and i got my options down to preservation, erudition, and destruction.

... and so, i think he's destruction. now, hear me out because i have my reasons.

more under cut!

so. in the path description, it means that those who follow the destruction path admire recklessness, anger, and destructive behavior.

this fits kaeya very well, as in GI, he is quite reckless with his behavior when it comes to hunting down his quarries, both with himself and his company. he loves putting people in situations, including himself. in GI, i do not doubt that kaeya still feels anger/resentment towards the entire situation regarding his family/past/khaenri'ah, no matter how he hard he may try to cut ties with all of these things. in turn, HSR yaya certainly does feel anger over all three of those, too. when it comes to destructive behavior, let's be fucking real, kaeya is pretty self-destructive (as well as self-sacrificing but that's another thing). gestures at him. the man destroyed the child he once was and forcibly molded himself into being someone he's not. he's also an alcoholic, which is considered a self-destructive behavior.

now, the gameplay description mentions those on the path of destruction possess great survivability. characters that mostly come to mind are blade, jingliu, firefly, and arlan. all of these characters have things in common: they either sacrifice their own HP to gain the strength needed to survive, selfishly heal themselves, or both. kaeya in GI, when he has C4, gains a shield that only applies to himself once he hits 20% health. not only that, he also only heals himself based on a percentage of his health.

let's not also forget this: kaeya does everything he can to survive despite his self-sacrificing tendencies, depression, and SH ideas (most of which are purely headcanons). for what, is arguable, because while he would be selfishly trying to survive for himself, he could still also be trying to survive for his family--his legacy, both in GI & HSR. he's a survivor of civilizations that have been destroyed, both in GI & HSR (but added in HSR, a survivor of said civilization itself since he would not have had a bright future if he stayed with the wingweavers, if a future at all).

anyway, all this to say: yaya is destruction in terms of playable paths.

[sukibenders]

It's really weird seeing the discourse over Alina's ending in the books, where people hated her loosing her powers and living off in some farm with Mal, only to turn around and go "but if she was with the Darkling-". This take completely ignores the fact that, in the books, Alina never truly wanted her powers nor did she want to be in the spotlight. Sure she had things to work out and everything, and may have even grown to find solace in her abilities but that doesn't necessarily mean she became less when she lost them (a narrative that some seem to think?)

It also ignores how much trauma the Darkling had put her through--from him harassing/grooming her, to making her have to constantly look over her shoulder for a big chunk of her life, and so much more. If you didn't like her ending, that's fine, but don't go around pretending as if her staying with the Darkling would have been any better. It also feels like a lot of projection going around with people thinking she's suddenly living a bad life simply because she choose to live out the rest of her time with her partner and working at an orphanage, something that she is entitled to do so after everything she went through. It's also nor like she's struggling financially, like come on, her friends are literal royals, she is fine.

It also seems like a lot of people go and take an easy route of simply ignoring her relationship with Mal, seeming just to hate it and view it as unimportant, when that also takes away from valuable aspects of her character. Mal is important to her, whether people like it or not, just as much as she's important to him (like are we going to ignore how he risked everything to go and find her? Literally being labeled a deserter!) Do I think there are some codependent elements at times? Yes, but that doesn't mean that both can't work through that and become better. That is one thing I will give the show credit for, which is having them not only verbally state that, but show Mal going off to find out more for himself, but people still used that as an opportunity to hate on him. Like 🙄.

[septic-salad]

"I was gonna add on a bunch of other facts and stuff but I looked quite literally insane </3" nono go on, add the facts, the people want to know more about opossum wilbur

Looking at you with big ol' eyes rn.

Where do I even start omg

Well as a kid Wilbur loved to climb around in trees and hang around (literally, like by his tail and shit) until he eventually grew out of it cuz he was afraid other people would see him as childish and weird, since typically you don't see a lot of full grown adults climbing and playing in trees.

But in limbo while he was rethinking all of his life choices, he realized that time after time he found himself yearning to play in a stupid tree again. So, the first real thing he did after being revived was go climb a tree <3

This is literally him!!

One time Quackity found him hanging out in a tree and as Wilbur tried to frantically get off the branch he was on his tail instinctively latched onto it so he was sorta stuck like this :)

A N D!! Sometimes (involuntary and voluntarily) his tail will grab onto people's ankles or he'll use it to hold someone's wrist instead of holding their hand :) Alternatively, it's also sort of like a built in leash that'll keep Wilbur from straying too far off, sometimes that tnt is just a little too enticing 🤷‍♂️

(He can also technically do the spiderman kiss if he just hangs from a tree <3)

ALSO ALSO!! "Playing dead" is actually involuntary for opossums, so sometimes when he's really really stressed, scared or threatened he just passes tf out for a couple hours (he passed out a lot during pogtopia lmao)

This is also him he loves strawberries

And. Permanent fingerless gloves. (Except for when I forget to draw them omg </3)

Anyways 🥰 I have multiple mental illnesses

[aturnoftheearth]

joel’s face when ellie first reads the puns … the remind that she’s just a kid….. that no matter how fast she was forced to grow up no matter how long it’s been since the world was normal she’s still just a kid !!!!! and also she loves shitty puns:)

[ladymacbethisagirlboss]

So many parents don't want to admit their kids are disabled and I reckon it's because deep down we see disability as embarrassing. And on one level they don't want to feel like they've "failed" as parents because their kid needs more help than they're alreasy getting, but i also think some people don't want to acknowledge that the things that frustrate them about their kid are symptoms of a disability and then they'd have to actually put in the effort to assist them instead of telling them to try harder

One thing about neurodivergency becoming better known is that the internet has aestheticised it. Wanna make it clear I'm not doing "kids identify as ND because they're attention seeking" bullshit, I'm talking about how there are VERY SPECIFIC types of ND we talk about. We condense the more "palatable" disorders like ADHD/ASD etc into certain ideas or traits (e.g. 5 year old boy who really likes dinosaurs, autistic girl who sure plays a lot of videogames!) and we downright demonize ND people with NPD, ASPD, BPD etc.

It's annoying to not have the classic ADHD symptoms, it's part of the reason I got overlooked for years, and it's more annoying when my own community is kinda doing the same - especially to some of my friends with personality disorders which too many of you don't include in your activism. ND people are diverse. We're not these packaged ideas of what we should be. And don't forget - we're not all white! Over and over again we forget to talk about POC members of our community, and how the medical industry and us have failed them. This insane need to make everyone fit the idea of what a neurodivergent should be does us no help

[kavehater]

Huh I just realised, what kinda riles up my psychosis is usually the type of things that rlly have an impact on me, like say guilt … GOD. Guilt genuinely takes a hold of me completely. That and shame. Like ;; listen. I just forgot the intensity of the guilt and shame I held today probably bc I shared it with dahlia idk, and then although I intellectually feel super guilty and ashamed, it’s not as terrifying as before, it’s more manageable. Like I can actually do other things now apart from thinking abt it ? But like nah I kinda remember it a lot now so maybe I should stop talking abt it.

[jupiter-reimagined]

Stone wakes up in the morning, hoping that him being lost in the woods was a dream. But when he opens his eyes, he realizes that it was not a dream, at all.

He yawns and smacks his lips together, feeling how dry his mouth is. He makes the decision to get down from the tree and find a nearby stream of water. Stone is barely upright on the ground when his feet hits the ground, but he manages to stumble forward.

His aging body hates himself for sleeping in a tree all night, but it was better than risking a bear finding him sleeping on the ground. He strains his ears and hears a stream of water, walking towards the sound.

Drinking water from a stream without a way to filter it is not ideal, but at least it's flowing water and not still water. Flowing water is still safer than water that isn't flowing, so he has to take what he can get.

Stone drops down onto his knees and takes off his gloves, placing his hands in the stream and cupping water. Once the water is in his cupped hands, he can't help himself from leaning down and drinking the water.

He lets the water soften his dry mouth and throat, taking a few more sips of the stream water. He sits on his heels, looking around for where to walk next.

NOOO rip his old man back </333 all that falling off buildings aint doing him any favors right now </3

[erosiism]

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 | yandere! prince x male! reader | NSFW

pairing: horny! prince x oblivious! male reader

CONTAINS:

blowjob

overstimulation

bathtub sex

dick riding (literally)

nipple play

fingering

sorry i think im turning into a nsfw tumblr page with a sprinkle of gore, fluff and angst lol might contain small tiny discrepancies as i edited it from third person to second person. | taken from my fic on wattpad called possession thank you for 1k followers on tumblr! please comment, reblog, and like if you enjoyed this

The situation you had gotten yourself in was rather dire.

For the longest period of time, you had been unaware of your best friend’s feelings — the crown prince — and just how strong his affections were towards you.

And that included not knowing how horny Isidor — your best friend — was. 

And now that both of your feelings were out in the open, that meant that the air was practically suffocating with sexual tension.

You sat across him on the bed, jumbling up your words as you tried to tackle this nefarious topic.

"I—" You faltered. "What I mean to say is, I know you're sexually aroused. You've made that clear..." you trailed off, voice small. "And I know you're being very patient with me."

"Yes, Y/n." Isidor said slowly, "...what are you trying to say?"

Why is he making me say it? you thought with frustration, just—!

You reeled the prince in for a kiss, cupping the prince’s cheek and pouring all the things you couldn't figure out how to say at that moment in that kiss. Then when both your lips were both red and swollen (they already were, from all the initial kisses), you looked at Isidor with a meaningful glance.

Realization flashed through Isidor's eyes. It was followed by a smoldering glint that signaled his lust.

Encouraged by his reaction — you struggled on, "you don't have to wait. You don't have to be patient."

Isidor was painfully hard by then, his cock throbbing and pulsing as blood rushed up to its surface. 

"Y/n," Isidor murmured in a strangled voice, "say it. You know, I am curious about how sound-proofed our dorm truly is. Let's test it out, shall we?"

"I—"

You had barely gotten the words out before Isidor was crowding you against the walls, tongue licking a stripe up your neck from your open collar. Oh, you tasted godly — Isidor would carve his hips against your own and engrave his initials to your brain — he would make you say his name in a feverish heat. 

Isidor's hands started to slide under our shirt, staring at you with eager eyes. "Say what you want, Y/n — and I shall give."

"I want," you panted, "you to fuck me."

I want you to fuck me.

Following your bold declaration, Isidor's remaining sanity that he prided himself on had dissipated into nothingness. For an extremely long period of time, Isidor had thought he still had remarkable self control, considering that he, up until this point, had not made any significant advances towards you, the man he loved.

But you had now given him explicit permission — had almost begged for it, even. 

Isidor angled himself into a tilt, dragging his lips along your sensitive own. You gasped — and Isidor took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into the gap of your mouth, plunging right into the heart of your mouth.

And oh, he sure took his time to explore. You found yourself grasping for something to support yourself with, as every single time Isidor would move, your limbs would grow weak.

And soon, when the two of you broke apart, there was an obscene, sliver slick of saliva at the edge of your lips. Sensual, sensitive, and alluring.

"You're sensitive," Isidor whispered, "now this is going to be fun..."

And even that last kiss had careened into something else entirely — into a debauched, obscene mess. At that moment, there was no rhythm to the kiss — there was nothing controlled about your movements. Isidor's grip on your waist was bruising and lacked the tenderness that it usually had.

"You're hard," Isidor said, almost seeming proud — "aren't you, Y/n?"  He reached down to your hard length and squeezed, causing you to release a soft moan, grinding yourself against Isidor.

"Ah—don't —" you swallowed, "Isidor."

Isidor wanted to ruin you. He wanted to mark the skin that seemed to call him in —to lick the skin that was peppered and powdered with pink.  He wanted to stake his claim on your body, to show that you were truly his, and solely his. Only his.

Isidor didn't respond, instead grasping your pants and pulling it down in a deft motion, tossing it to the other side of the room where it lay forgotten. And now you could be seen hard, aching — with your boxers painfully restraining your boner. Isidor licked his lips, the other hand grabbing your shirt and also tossing it away carelessly. Yourbare skin looked like a feast to Isidor: it was unblemished, untouched, and provided as the perfect canvas for Isidor to litter his marks and kisses on. 

"Perhaps we should do something about this," Isidor murmured, one finger reaching to jerk your cock, still clothed beneath your boxers, the other slowly peeling off the last layer of fabric like Isidor was uncovering a prize. "Right, Y/n?"

"Don't tell me you're planning on—" you swallowed back a moan, a hand flying to your mouth as you stifled the lewd sounds slipping from your mouth. "I-Isidor—"

How unfair. Isidor was completely clothed still, while you were already naked and bare for him to see. Isidor pressed his cheek to the head of your cock, his eyes gleaming. His hands had started to wrap around your girth, lips curling into a smirk. And here you were initially worrying about giving head — when as it turned out, Isidor was going to be the one giving it to you. 

Precum was already leaking from the top of your cock, sluggishly dripping down your whole length. You started to writhe, your train of thought forgotten. Your whole body was riled up, all restless energy and pure jittery nerves. Your hands flew up to weave into dark strands of hair as Isidor started to move, bobbing his head to swallow your cock whole. You felt a sudden jolt of pleasure as all you could feel was the slickness, wetness and pure heat of Isidor's mouth enveloping your body, deep-throating him. A wanton moan left your mouth.

"Shhh," Isidor murmured, "I'll make you feel good, darling. You can make those noises when I truly fuck you later."

Isidor was awfully good at giving head, to the extent you started to suspect he had done it before. And it was not before long when your cock started to twitch as you felt your imminent release. Desperately, you tried to pry Isidor's lips from your length, but the prince stayed stubbornly, his eyes traveling towards to meet yours. Your thighs spread further apart, your ass angling upwards, cock jerking in Isidor's mouth, fervently begging for more.

Smug. Isidor looked smug, like he knew he was responsible for your first release.

You watched with mortification as Isidor's Adam apple bobbed, the white liquid sliding down his throat. But your mind was already driven from pleasure and your eyes were glazed, your vision indescribably heavy. You grew slack as low breaths escaped your lips, your chest rising up and down as you looked at Isidor, cheeks reddening.

Why was the fuck — sorry for the crude language — was the crown prince licking his lips?

"You came so fast," Isidor murmured, "perhaps I should have delayed it so you would have the energy to continue on. Perhaps I should have waited so that you would come with my cock inside you. But no matter —  I can think of a lot better ways to make you come again..." Isidor pressed a firm kiss to the base of your neck, straightening his back to be on eye level with you. "Can you continue?"

It was stupid to think how a simple blowjob had rendered you utterly gone. 

I'm not going to last, you thought, I really won't. Because from the looks of it, Isidor had plenty of ideas in mind.

"Not fair," your voice was garbled, "I've already come once and you haven't even taken your clothes off yet."

"Would you like to do the honor?" Isidor tilted his head teasingly, reveling in the feel of your bare skin underneath his fingers, "would you, Y/n?"

You nodded your head weakly. Your hands reached out, trembling, to fumble clumsily with the band of the prince's pants and boxers, slowly pulling it down like Isidor had done earlier. Isidor was impatient — he was already deftly and quickly unbuttoning his own shirt, discarding it into the pile that your clothes had formed. 

And oh, you could see how the prince had been so truly tortured for the past year, in all the moments you had been oblivious to his advances. The tip of his bulbous cock was so swollen and red that you marveled at it — but a strange feeling settled into the pits of your stomach: how were you supposed to fit it in?

"Well," Isidor said in a low voice, "now that the matter of our clothes has been settled..." Slowly yet roughly, Isidor pushed you down to press flush against the bed, using his hands to pin you down and secure you. Your head was now resting on the pillows placed against the bed frame.

There was a brief stretch of silence.

"What are you doing?" You asked feebly, seeing how Isidor seemed to be so transfixed with you, "aren't you going to do something?"

"Admiring you." Isidor breathed out, "seeing how all this —" Isidor's hands gingerly traveled across the expanse of your chest, before resting upon your nipple and twisting it — "is mine now. Seeing how all that I've lusted for...every inch of you is all mine to touch."

"Isidor," you said, your voice cracking. "You're torturing yourself by waiting."

"And don't I know it." Isidor smiled.

"Isidor," you whined, your voice needy as the prince's fingers grazed your other nipple, "just—"

"Starving for it, are you?" Isidor kissed your bud, swirling his tongue around it. There was a sheen of saliva between your hard nipple and Isidor's mouth as he finished sucking it. Isidor moved towards the crook of your neck temporarily, lightly scraping his skin with teeth, just enough for a small mark to blossom as it followed the fangs of his teeth. You let out an unconscious moan, feeling as slight pain started to settle in.

Isidor looked with satisfaction at the mark that now adorned your neck, resuming his earlier actions — your hands twitched, body arching up as Isidor played idly with your nipple, rolling it leisurely between his fingers before pinching the sensitive and red bud. 

A hand stopped you from rolling your hips towards Isidor's hard cock, pressing you further against the bed. Teeth tugged at your earlobe, biting it gently and possessively as light kisses were then bestowed upon your skin. A hopeless and tender groan fell from your lips as Isidor moved down to latch onto your other nipple — the one that had been spared earlier — glancing at you with a starved look.

"You taste so good..." Isidor mumbled, seeming to be lost in whatever pleasure he was experiencing — "ah, I just want to fuck you already."

Isidor was a prince. His language was often flowery and not crude. And yet now obscenities were being spewed from his lips like nothing. It made your chest tingle as you saw the power you held over the prince — as you realized the power the two of you had over each other. 

Oh, you could bring Isidor down to his knees.

Your thighs were spread further apart, Isidor slotting himself right in between them as if he belonged there.

"I'll prepare you," Isidor leaned back as he opened the bedside drawer and took out a bottle of lube, making you immediately ask: how do you have lube so readily available? — to which, Isidor answered: for myself. "I'll prepare you, Y/n."

Ah fuck...you’re so cute. You are so, so cute. I just want to put it in already — I just want to fuck you already, Isidor thought in desperation, I just want you. But for the sake of your bottom half in the future...

Isidor coated his fingers and cock liberally with the slick liquid, his touch hot as he capped the bottle, chucking it to the side. The last vestiges of coherent, calm thoughts were slowly starting to vanish from Isidor's mind — so close. He was so close to feeling your walls squeezing along his hard length, just like he had always envisioned in his dirty dreams —

Heat surged through you, positively blazing as Isidor pressed two fingers relentlessly against your hole. The foreign sensation grounded you — sparks of pleasure tingled down your spine as Isidor wiggled his fingers around, pressing down onto your prostate. It held your impending orgasm at bay — albeit briefly — but you welcomed the feelings, moan after moan leaving your lips, the lewd sound mixing with the filthy sounds echoing around the room.

You hoped fervently that the rooms were advertised like they were — soundproof.

But even with two, you felt so full. It burned, yes, especially when Isidor added a third. 

"Mgh," you moaned, "Isidor—ah, hngh—"

"I've waited, Y/n," Isidor purred, "I deserve to be a little selfish, don't I?"

Isidor was practically scissoring you open, consistently pressing down to the most sensitive spot in your hole — you writhed on those fingers as they plunged in deeper, milking your prostate with precise strokes. And when those fingers left, you felt empty, your walls clenching around nothing. A last finger trailed lightly over your twitching rim, the touch featherlight and gentle, yet as you were already sensitive from your earlier orgasm, you couldn't help but jolt at his touch. 

"You took my fingers so willingly," Isidor cooed, "makes you wonder how you'll take my cock, right?"

"Will you — ah —" you panted, feeling your vision black out for the briefest moment — "Isidor —"

"Are you tired?" One last kiss was pressed onto your lips, chaste, but no less satisfying as the others — "bear with me a little longer."

"Isidor," you whined, giving a petulant moan. You were unsure of what you wanted. No, actually, screw that — you knew exactly what he wanted. You ran your nails along Isidor's back, causing the prince to hiss slightly, "just — just do what you want. Do what you want with me."

"Isn't that inviting?" Isidor's voice held no restraint, as he practically towered over you. "isn't that too inviting, Y/n?"

"Please — mgh,” you were sobbing now, tears streaming down your face. It was not of pain, however — it was due to the pure pleasure and ecstasy thrumming below your skin. 

Isidor wiped away at your tear-smeared cheeks, shushing you softly and thumbing at your waist with sweetness and tenderness. "Oh," Isidor panted, "I promise you it won't hurt. I can't promise you that I'll be gentle, but —"

"Fuck me."

Isidor's head snapped up to meet you, real hunger swirling in his eyes. The nips on your skin veered into bites, and soon Isidor started to line his cock to the rim of your sensitive hole. As the tip prodded your entrance, you found Isidor's arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer. Isidor grunted slightly as he started to press in slowly, as your body rejoiced at the feel of Isidor's girth entering your body, your walls tightening around it.

"Hah," you panted, "I-Isidor—"

The prince paused, allowing you to accommodate his size. Isidor grabbed your thighs, and in a quick motion, threw your legs over his shoulder, forcing you to lift your hips. And Isidor's grip on your hip stayed.

Trembling, you let out a wanton groan when you felt the tip of Isidor's cock twitch as it brushed against the hot, slick ring of muscle, clearly eager to plunge inside. And you were more than ready to accommodate it — to accommodate the warmth; the demand. A filthy sound echoed yet again around the room as Isidor pushed his cock deeper into you. And you couldn't help but keen as you felt yourself being breached, violent shivers wrecking and coursing through you as Isidor slid in with his entire length in a single thrust.

Slowly but surely, Isidor bottomed out, sinking deeper, splitting you open and punching all the air out of you. You were left gasping, breathing in and out rapidly. Isidor was huge, you thought, left shaking at the stretch, with Isidor all the way in. Your vision turned black for a moment, and you feared you would pass out from overstimulation. But that moment passed, and you were still there. Alive.

Your legs were suspended over Isidor's shoulder, your back upright against the bed frame. And Isidor started off with a slow pace, and slowly set up a steady rhythm that left you gutted every time the prince thrusted back in.

Isidor wrapped his arms around you and pulled you until the two of you were impossibly close, his cock rubbing deep against your insides, causing you to gasp against the skin of Isidor's neck. Briefly, Isidor seemed to catch sight of your reflection in a tiny mirror on the bedside table — and the prince smiled as he grabbed your chin and angled you towards it. 

You flushed.

"Look how pretty you are, Y/n. Look, Y/n. Look at your pretty little face. Look at your eyes...your nose...your lips. Such a cutie just for me, right?"

You could not answer — it felt like you were getting pried open to the point that your brain couldn't register anything.

The pace had started to increase, and Isidor had clearly become greedier with his thrusts turning more vicious and earth-shattering. Each one sent you pushed against the bed frame, and Isidor burrowed his head into your neck, breathing heavily in your ear.

"Haa — You feel so good," Isidor looked almost relieved that all his pent up sexual frustration over the months — the year — had finally been resolved, "oh, Y/n...you  take me so well — aren't you just made for me?"

Compliments and sweet sensibilities continued to roll off Isidor's lips.

"Aren't you just such a pet?" Isidor breathed out shakily, "Aren't you just perfect for me? Fuck —”  You rolled his hips amidst a delicious burn. Something blazed in Isidor — he slammed in deeper than the previous thrust, dragging his length over your prostate.

"My stamina — it's terribly bad," you choked out, spots beginning to swarm around your vision. But still your body continued to move against Isidor's. 

"And yet you're still doing wonderfully." Isidor murmured, pressing a kiss onto your lips. Your lips were bitten raw and almost bloody, but Isidor's lips were slick and hot, and that sent more pleasure tingling down your  spine — "aren't you?"

You seemed to burn. You didn't know just how your body was still holding up — when you would have expected that it would have been gone by now. But you couldn't dwell upon it — soft lips met yours, the movement languorous and easy as Isidor's mouth explored yours.

Isidor's hands moved up to frame your face, shaking a little bit from the emotions coursing through him. He'd wanted this. Had yearned for it for years. And here he was, with his cock in you, watching as pleasure blazed in his beloved's eyes.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of your mouth against his, the way your skin felt underneath his soft caresses, frantic and urgent. Yes — Isidor, though starved, could be gentle, reverent, adoring. The kiss was so soft, tender, and sweet that it made you dizzy.

"Isidor, please — haa, fuck me," you pleaded. You felt the cock inside of you twitch, the sensation almost too much for your tightly wound body. It felt near overwhelming how deep Isidor reached, how thoroughly stretched your ass was around the throbbing erection inside of you.

Isidor's pace was faster now, and his thrusts were going sloppy. You could feel the way Isidor tugged your hair to kiss you wildly and messily unlike the previous soft kisses — and with a low groan of your name, Isidor buried himself to the hilt, spilling himself deep inside of you. Warmth — pure warmth pooled low in your belly, and Isidor's cock pulsed with the last of its release. This was cherished, inviting warmth, and Isidor pressed a firm kiss onto your forehead and shifted his hips back, slipping out. His cock had softened compared to before and yet still —

You felt completely and utterly gone. Boneless. Used.

You could feel Isidor's cum slowly trickling out of your abused hole, but you currently cared very little about sullying yourself or the sheets.

"I'll clean you," Isidor said hoarsely, wrapping you in his arms. "Come here, darling."

Your vision was fading in and out — you were immensely tired, and yet — how horny was Isidor? You would have expected for his appetite to have been whetted after the prince spilled all that in you — after he had relentlessly pounded you — but still, Isidor's stamina had not waned. If anything, the prince was only stopping out of consideration.

You allowed yourself to be carried and to be brought into the bathroom — there were a few wet and sloppy kisses exchanged between the two of you, with Isidor nearly pressing onto you against the table —  but whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, Isidor managed to turn on the tap, run the bath, and enter the bath along with you. There were a few peaceful minutes as you collected your thoughts and feelings, your breaths managing to steady. 

And it was with mirth you realized that just a while ago, the two of you had bathed here, with you utterly oblivious.

And now you weren’t oblivious to the fact that Isidor — he was still horny. It was concerning how a human could hold so much hunger for someone.

...Should I...?

You cupped the prince's cheek, looking at him meaningfully while using your leg to nudge Isidor's erection. Despite how exhausted you were — though those few minutes had saved your lungs, albeit temporarily — you were selfish enough to want the both of you to feel satisfied. You wanted the first time to be equally desirable for both of you. And besides...you did need to train your stamina, didn't you?

"Are you that insatiable?" You asked, tilting your head. Your voice was now rendered hoarse. You felt like you had just gotten the living lights fucked out of you mercilessly — your back was aching, with the countless of times you had nearly been folded against the bed frame — and your nipples and lips were sore, having been bitten.

A heated sensation went right to Isidor's cock.

"You can still fuck me," you murmured, "here."

In normal circumstances, Isidor would have said no. But here you were. pliant, offering him this decision — how could the prince resist?

"You might regret this decision," Isidor warned, starting to move towards you. One hand held the back of your head, so the proceeding thrust would not cause you to topple right over — while the other hand gripped your already bruised hip. It was a rather interesting position, with you straddled over him, Isidor's cock pressed against your stomach.

You smiled gently. "I won't. So you're really that insatiable, I suppose."

With that final affirmation, Isidor lifted your hips slowly, dragging his length over the puffiness of your hole. It was much too ambitious to think about fucking you again but god, Isidor so wanted to. And he would. Isidor would fuck you again, with your

Your hole was slick and wet already from the earlier rounds, and so slipping it in was easy. In fact, so easy — that Isidor started to marvel at just how made for each other you two were — and his gaze dropped down to the evidence of the penetration — the slight bulge in your lower stomach. Your ass was sitting so sweetly and nicely on his cock, your walls squeezed around it. You gave a little moan as you started to adjust yourself.

Isidor's voice came out so wrecked it was almost inaudible — and he answered your question belatedly. "I'm afraid that yes, I am. I am that insatiable."

You were on his lap — you were —

...Riding him, amidst the waters.

The evidence of your previous pleasures was smeared between the two of your bodies, and Isidor languidly rolled once more into you, thrusting into your prostate once more. And all you could do was sit there prettily and gasp as your cock twitched against your abdomen, leaking more fluid onto yourself. 

Your hands tightened around Isidor's neck, pulling him down for another filthy, wet kiss. Endless shivers and tiny spasms wrecked through you as Isidor kept fucking you, with moans and sounds falling all over your kiss-swollen lips. The pleasure in your body started to build once more. Exhaustion riddled your body, and yet your walls continued to clench around Isidor's intrusion, with the prince's fingers digging into your hips, his rhythm faltering for a split second before returning. This time, the thrust was faster and harder. Isidor was practically splitting you open. 

Overstimulated, You felt like you were gone.

Your lips met with his in a mix of saliva and tongue, and you shuddered as Isidor grounded himself further, pushing his way inside until he was impossibly deep in you. The water sloshed around the two of you, and for the briefest moment, you wondered what it would have been like for your entire body to be beneath the water.

Whatever obscene sounds you made were muffled by Isidor's hungry mouth on yours, unrelenting and harsh. You were devoured, ravished, treasured — and you loved every bit of it.

Your stomach swooped as Isidor broke the kiss and started rocking into you faster, the thrusts stronger and deeper now as he took pleasure from your obedient body. With your breathing ragged and uneven, you closed your eyes and let the sensations wash over you. You could feel everything — the way Isidor pressed inside of you, the way Isidor fucked you until guttural cries were forcibly spilled from your mouth. You could feel the unrestrained desire, the pace quickening. There was the steady roll of hips against an addicting burn — Isidor thrusted in and out, his cock sliding into your wet hole continuously. 

"Fuck," Isidor breathed out, "you're so perfect."

Your hole stretched so impossibly wide, taking in the prince deeply. There were a never ending mix of grunts, groans, and moans from the both of you, coupled with aborted renditions of Isidor's name — you were rendered speechless and helpless. 

You could feel the sensation vividly — the warmth spreading through your belly, anchoring you. The searing heat that was diffusing in you, building and building until it threatened to overwhelm you. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, you felt the imminent sensation of your release. 

Isidor thrusted, harder, pressing his cock as deep into you as it could go. You clenched around Isidor, muscles constricting involuntarily and rippling around the cock fucking you open. A low groan sounded below you, as Isidor's hips stuttered for a brief second before he found his rhythm again. Your body was wet with the water but the slipperiness of it only reduced the friction between Isidor’s and your body — Isidor took your lips in his, ravaging them.

"Fuck," Isidor panted, voice strained from the effort of plowing into you. "You're so cute." The prince could not seem to stop the honeyed praises from falling from his lips.

Another thrust ripped a moan from your throat. Isidor was pounding into you, his motions merciless and relentless. You clawed at his back, your walls tightening as he struggled to accommodate Isidor's size. 

You pushed your hips back down — Isidor's body responded, and he flexed his hips just in time to meet with your downward grind, and that was the last straw. It was enough for you to release once more, and your back arched as you spilled on the thick length lodged right against your prostate, walls quivering. Isidor had come too, and now the both of you were panting, with you seated firmly on the prince's cock. The spilled seed leaked from your puffy and tender hole.

You could feel yourself really about to black out this time round. It was a miracle that you had made it this far — if not for the small break you had had in the bath, you would have collapsed by now. Strong, muscular hands wrapped around your waist, and Isidor was pressing tender kiss after kiss on the marks littered on your skin. It was like the prince was trying to map everything out again. 

Lips rasped against your cheek, and you felt a hand brush your loose hair away from your face. Isidor's voice was low and sweet as he spoke: "Rest well, darling."

And with that, you blacked out, your exhausted body slumping against the cold tiles of the bathroom.

please support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting

[littlelamy]

I got some thoughts spinning from seeing how Drew looks as Eugene in Queer with glasses and all. So Soft Nerdy Rafe request?  Very golden retriever-y, a bit shy and sweet. Maybe they are making out for the first time and….sweet nerdy rafe….switches up….not so shy. Ahhh it’s such a weakness when shy boys just become so forward, manly and give into their desires 💘🥹

a/n: AHHHHH! im so happy that you requested a nerd!rafe!!!!! i hope you like it ⭐️

the library was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights blending into the soft rustle of pages and distant murmurs. rafe cameron sat across from you, his glasses sliding down his nose as he frowned at the notebook in front of him. he was chewing on the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit you’d grown fond of, though it made you wonder if he realized how obvious he was being.

“you’re gonna wear your skin raw if you keep doing that,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table.

he looked up, startled, like you’d caught him mid-crime. “oh. right. sorry.” he dropped his hand, fiddling with his pen instead. “i’m just—this doesn’t make sense. none of it makes sense. why is calculus even a thing?”

you smiled, leaning forward to peek at his notes. his handwriting was neat, but his equations were a jumbled mess, arrows pointing in all directions. “you’re overthinking it,” you said, your voice soft. “here, look. you just forgot to carry the one.”

rafe groaned, his head falling onto the table with a dramatic thud. “i’m hopeless.”

“you’re not hopeless.”

“i am. you should just give up on me now.” his words were muffled by the wood, but you could still hear the pout in his voice.

“rafe.”

he peeked up at you, his cheek smushed against the table. “what?”

“you’re adorable when you’re dramatic, but you’re not hopeless.”

his face flushed a deep red, and he sat up quickly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m not adorable,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“you are,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “but if you really want to prove me wrong, maybe stop staring at my lips and focus on your math.”

his eyes went wide, his ears turning pink. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t staring at your lips!”

“you were,” you said, smirking. “it’s okay, though. i don’t mind.”

he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “you don’t?”

“nope.”

the air between you shifted, the tension palpable now. rafe’s gaze flicked to your lips again, this time more deliberate, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you could just kiss me instead of acting like you’re solving a physics problem.”

his jaw dropped, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust. “i—i could?”

you laughed softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “come here, rafe.”

he stood slowly, his movements awkward and unsure, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. when he rounded the table and slid onto the bench beside you, his knee bumped yours, and he froze, looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.

“is this… okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“more than okay,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

he hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative kiss you’d ever experienced. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching, like he wasn’t sure where they belonged.

you deepened the kiss, your hand moving to his cheek, and he made a small, needy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, his hands settled on your hips, his grip uncertain at first but growing firmer as the kiss went on.

his lips were warm and slightly chapped, moving against yours in a rhythm that was both clumsy and endearing. but as the moments stretched, something shifted.

rafe pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and hunger. “is this… is this okay?” he asked again, his voice trembling.

“yes, rafe,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair.

that seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. when he kissed you again, it wasn’t tentative or shy—it was bold, almost desperate. his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your ribs, and his body pressed closer to yours, eliminating the small space that had existed between you.

you gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his confidence growing with each passing second. his glasses slipped down his nose again, but he didn’t seem to care, too focused on the way your lips moved against his.

“you’re so… perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and husky now, a far cry from the nervous stammering he’d started with.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “you’re not so shy anymore.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his glasses crooked and his lips kiss-swollen. “guess you bring it out of me,” he said, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

“oh, so now you’re cocky?”

“maybe a little.” his grin widened, and he leaned in again, his lips finding yours with renewed fervor.

the kiss grew hungrier, his hands exploring more boldly now. one slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, while the other found the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

you let out a soft moan, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated against your lips. it was like a switch had flipped—gone was the shy, bumbling rafe, replaced by someone who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.

his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for permission, and when you parted them, he deepened the kiss with a confidence that made your head spin.

“God,” he muttered, his voice breathless. “you’re incredible.”

you were too dazed to respond, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

time seemed to blur, the world outside the library fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your palm.

when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his glasses fogged up, and his sweater slightly askew. “sorry,” he said, though the satisfied grin on his face suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

“for what?” you asked, still catching your breath.

“for not doing that sooner.”

you laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. “you’re such a dork.”

“your dork,” he murmured against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “mine.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[unformula1]

promises - 1 (ln4)

part 2 || you and lando used to be best friends, but you two drifted apart. (1464 words) a/n: im back ! should i make a part 2?? || masterlist

You and Lando used to be friends. Best friends, one might say. The two of you were inseparable. Every Friday night, without fail, both of you would meet up at the playground near the central district of your hometown. The playground would usually be empty, with most children staying in with their parents. This gave you and Lando the whole playground, all to yourselves.

It was perfect to make the purest memories. Just two kids, pure innocence and naivety, and a friendship which felt like forever. You’d talk about which toy cars were the better ones, he’d always say the orange ones. You two would laugh about the silliest things, and promise each other to be friends forever. 

You two grew up together, went through the teenage years with each other, there in the highs and lows. Every Friday night became every night. You two would see each other daily, at the same playground. As both of you matured, so did your conversations, you two started talking about your love lives, your future.

Both of you sat on the ground, leaning against the wooden base of the slide which both of you used to ride together.

~~~

“I mean… It seems pretty cool.” You tell him.

“It is.” Lando confirms, “I’ve been doing it since I was a small kid, just zooming around.”

You chuckle as Lando mimics driving a go-kart.

“You see yourself driving them forever?” You ask, shifting closer to him.

“Hell yeah.” He replies confidently, not a single ounce of doubt in his voice.

“Alright then.” You smile, “Go for it.”

“You’ll be there right?” He asks you.

“I will. You’ll remember me right?”

“Yes.”

~~~

Both of you made promises, whether they were the shallowest things or the deepest feelings. He never left you alone, you never made fun of him for the quirky things he liked. He stood by you when the worst was brought upon you, when you cried about some stupid boy not liking you back, when you lost your only ticket to your dream university.

~~~

You sat on the floor of his room, wiping away the dried up tears on your face. You’ve never felt this vulnerable to anyone. He lays down next to you and props himself up onto his elbow, looking at you. You glance back at him as he fiddles with his hair. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?” You ask, letting out a soft chuckle as you continue to wipe off your tears.

“Sorry.” He replies, laughing a little, “They don’t deserve you anyway.” 

He sits up and shrugs.

“You could do better.” He deadpans.

Your lips curve up ever so slightly.

“Well-” You sigh, “I guess I’ll stay here forever.”

Both of you laugh again.

“So will I.”

~~~

But he didn’t. Lando Norris left the town in pursuit of greater things.

“You’re leaving?” The realisation hits you.

He sheepishly nods.

Your emotions are all jumbled up into one big mess, everything just engulfing your heart as tears start falling.

“Oh-” Lando says before hugging you tightly.

You hug him back, your tears staining his sweater.

“C’mon now… don’t get all teary on me.” Lando says, clearing stifling down sobbing sounds.

You can’t let out any words.

~~~

It finally came a few months later. You stood in the airport, face to face with Lando. You felt the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, letting all the memories from the youngest ages of childhood flow through your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

He looks at you with his stupid little grin, his eyes getting watery as he purses his lips, taking in deep breaths. 

You run up to him and hug him, for what might be the last time ever. It’s a tight hug, one surrounded by years of friendships and years of memories all building up. He sobs on your shoulder, jerking slightly each sob as you grip tightly to him, never wanting to let go.

But you have to. Both of you take a step back. Lando takes out a necklace for you.

“For you.” He says, “I have a matching one.”

You sob violently and take the necklace, immediately putting it around your neck and holding onto it with a deathly grip.

He reaches out for your hand. Both of you hold hands for a few seconds, he closes his eyes once again as the tears traced his cheekbone and clung onto his jaw, trickling down slowly.

“We’ll stay in contact.” He says softly in between heavy sobs as he pulls you in one last time, patting you on the back.

“We better.” You crack a joke which makes him giggle. He nods more and pats your shoulder.

The moment has to come to an end eventually, with a heavy heart he takes a step back. He looks you in the eyes one last time and you stare at his brown-blue glistening eyes which sparkled.

You’ll miss those.

You’ll miss him.

You’ll miss all of this.

As he enters the boarding gates, he looks back at you again, smiling slightly at you as he waves slightly. You look back at him, wishing you could be there with him, flying somewhere same. Something wants you to run up to him and hold on tight to him but you stay put, waving goodbye to him. 

He holds up the necklace and smiles at you, you smile back at him, choking through the tears which suffocate your lungs as the sting in your throat resurfaces. You hold the necklace up to him too and for the last time, he nods at you, turning around and slowly disappearing from your view.

You stand there. 

What do you do now?

What are the weekly nights reserved for now?

Will you ever see Lando again?

———

The nights felt empty and missing a piece, because they were. You missed sitting with him in the cool breeze of the evening or in the dim lights of the nearby stores, talking about things that you would never tell anyone else. You missed all of it, every single angry, sad, happy, nostalgic moment. It was hard to change your entire life, you called him and texted him every single waking minute of your life and he did so too. However, it never felt the same. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night just to imagine he was there with you again and your tears would involuntarily come trickling down again. 

Eventually, you got used to it, like you do.

The years past much quicker than you imagined. You watched Lando grow from a young karter to Formula 1 driver. Sometimes you catch yourself watching his races and other times you see his face in the billboards across town.

You don’t know if he remembers you but both of you practically lost contact after you two stopped texting a few years back. It was rough. Both of you made each other the world, you made him your world. Absolutely nothing was going to stand in your way, but time took its path, and fate drew its sword. It was something that you could never change no matter how hard you tried. Even with empty days and sleepless nights just pretending and wishing and hoping that something would happen. It wouldn’t. 

So you had come to peace with it, he was just another passing chapter in your life, meeting once and never again, ingrained in the stone of life.

You were proud of him, for making it this far. You really were. Nothing would ever make you wish anything but the best for him; after all, he was the biggest boy in your life at one point, and nothing would change that. You were incredibly happy for him, for how much effort he’d put into this, he deserved everything. You even watched him win his first race in Miami.

You shed a tear or two. The memories of everything flooding back into your head, just remembering Lando as a young kid saying to you he’d take over the world. He did. You were proud.

But you weren’t there.

Were the promises you made all empty? Just passing in the moment to be carried by the wind and never to be seen or heard ever again?

You sat on the couch watching him take the top step of the podium, holding up the trophy as the sunlight serenaded his face. The familiar sparkle of his eyes stood out to you, it was like when he left. This time his tears were happy ones. 

Your tears were bittersweet.

A few hours pass and a chime from your phone gets you off your couch and reaching for your phone.

You got an Instagram DM, from landonorris.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[yellowflowrs]

What was Nari and the Carillonneur's relationship like pre-betrayal? I'm assuming not good since you said Narinder found enjoyment in their post-defeat state and taunted them occasionally.

It definitely wasn’t a healthy relationship by all means and was kinda co-dependent. It’s sort of hard to properly explain their relationship in words . All I gotta say: The song breezeblocks by Alt-J and that one song Saccharine sums their relationship up

(Cw for talking of an unhealthy relationship) sorry for mistakes I was really tired

//

So yeah their relationship was pretty … toxic for a lack of a better word. The Carillonneur was extremely obsessive over Narinder, since he was the first person that they could properly interact with, and also their promised liberator which led to them becoming very attached. They craved his attention, and with their status as a god felt entitled to it, and would be miserable without him

And, being very unhinged with a broken mind, they didn’t exactly know how to properly handle the greatness of their obsession, and when Narinder visited them, they often had outbursts under the weight of their own emotions, these outbursts would be out of excitement, frustration, etc. most of their the frustrated outbursts really just stemmed from them being so excited. They didn’t know how to properly express their feelings and tried to show ‘their love’ in their own weird ways, what can be perceived as threats or sick desires is what they meant to be a showcase of their of ‘ endearment ‘

Before Narinder had the red crown bestowed upon him he felt weak, constantly in a state of fear of beings that could hurt him, so when he got the red crown it gave him a huge ego boost. Developing the glaring (aka the flock) with beings under his thumb further fed into it as he loved the feeling of being ‘powerful’. Though, when he was with The Carillonneur it’s like he gets knocked off his pedestal of being great and all, because he’s also attached to the carillonneur in his own way. He felt obligated to them, as his the god that saved, befriended, -and in their more calmer moments- provided a ‘safe haven’ and praise for him. He subconsciously sought comfort in the arms of their praises and thrived off it, he was dependent on their approval and they somehow, despite being everything they are, made him feel at ease, which he absolutely loathed . The way The Carillonneur treated and talked to him made him feel like an object of their possession

he recognised that The Carillonneur was also attached to him in a different way than he was with them, and would begin to ignore the Carillonneur’s attempts at contact through the crown and enjoyed the desperation they had for his attention which, of course, he used to feed his ego

In a way, The Carillonneur resented Narinder for making them feel emotions that were incredibly overwhelming for them and how he messed with their already jumbled brain wires, while Narinder resented the Carillonneur for how they knocked him off his pedestal of greatness and made him feel inferior ..,. So yeah, really shitty relationship the two of them had and OG Narinder with Mori arent much better (neither is Shamura with Koa) I took a good chunk out of these paragraphs and there’s more layers to their relationship but it is 3 AM AS IM WRITING THIS AUGHHH. I’m sure you guys can fill in the little details that I left out.