#is that it does not matter if you know either

[ddejavvu]

Thinking about Eddie calling Steve out for always having a boner around you, that he knows your Steve’s girlfriend, but man can’t he control himself when they’re all hanging out together? Steve having to awkwardly say he’s not just constantly hard, that’s just how he... looks in jeans

Cue Eddie trying to make you (and himself) very sexy and tempting and insinuative in front of Steve, just because he wants to see how he really looks in those pants when he’s struggling then

god i've always been a monstercock steve harrington truther this was wonderful to read. eddie thinks he's about to send steve running in shame, talking about how he's 'always chubbed up in those tight little jeans, harrington. could you maybe keep it PG like the stupid kiddie movie you rented for us?'

steve frowns but there's an underlying current of amusement there. he glances down to where, admittedly, there's a bulge in his jeans, and he admits, 'i'm not hard. this is just how I look in jeans.'

you already knew this of course. now because you know this, you often get riled up about it, so yes, steve does end up with a boner 9 times out of 10. but that really is just how he looks in jeans, and you settle further against his side, eager to burrow into his substantial warmth and muscle.

eddie's sort of short-circuiting. he's not small, okay, but he's never looked hard when he wasn't. the fact that steve just ?? looks like that ?? he's just constantly bursting out of his jeans ?? he's a little jealous. and a little hard maybe. no matter. he's just got to stare at steve's crotch a bunch to figure out if it's really true. and if he corners you in the kitchen to beg you to bend over in front of steve, what about it?

eddie watches as you bend to pick something up off of the floor, then feign achy knees as you crawl towards steve and use his legs to push yourself up off of the floor. it means steve gets a front-row seat to both your ass and your tits, and god, steve wasn't lying, eddie realizes as you settle halfway into Steve's lap, somehow the pants are tighter now, and eddie can't tear his eyes away from either of you, the little creep.

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[poooooooooao3]

The notes on this post are taking me out.

It's funny how avoidable it is if you just listen to Jews for five seconds, instead of calling us Zionazis for example without even knowing there's more than one kind of Zionism, and being certain it's "W0r53 TH@n H1tL3R!!!!^_^×" without being able to define a single fucking one of them.

It is easy when you drink the Keffiyah Kult Kool-aid like it's mother's milk and won't listen to single adult with an education tell you of provable wikipedias occupation by PAID pro hamas editors, or NGOs, Universities, the UN, UNRWA, Newspapers and Lobbyists all getting considerable sized donations from one of the most admittedly antisemitic nations of the world. What happened to critical thinking then?

It is easy when you close your ears to anything doesn't already confirm your pre existing bias.

It becomes second nature when you dabble in blood quantum and colonial racism and landback denial because the natives don't look a certain way. Tell me something, how long do you think your average Jew would last in Europe over the last 1500 years if they didn't pass as "European"? What does a "proper" middle easterner even look like to you? Why?

It is normalised when your feminism and egalitarianism flies out the window when Jewish women are raped, when children are murdered, when the elderly are abused and tortured because "we don't get to choose how people resist". By that logic, you don't get to choose how Israel resists either yet somehow you wail and gnash your teeth at military actions preformed as they would be should it have been any other invasion in any other country.

It is like blinking when you close your eyes to the Nova massacre and tear down hostage posters on your own personal terrorist apologia tours. Ignoring, of course, your own bigotry of low expectation, when you think Gazans lived they way they have been deliberately portraying since the massacre, spoon feeding it to the west so you ignore what their life was like immediately before it, and woe to any Gazan who doesn't preform their role as a martyr by Hamas, and now you, as a result. Dance, monkey, dance.

Speaking of woe, do you even remember Aaron Bushnell? You people condemn any random Jew if anyone in Gaza gets so much as a splinter yet there you were, praising the horrific suicide of a mentally disturbed man as a martyr and hero for a month, tops, before he was forgotten. Used up. Disposable.

How are you any different than Hamas then, who use hospitals, camps, homes and schools as literal shields with no second thought to the people within? Are they also just as disposable as long as the end result is what you want?

Speaking of Hamas and end results, did it occur to you what would happen if they won? Are you you some how under the illusion that they were going to sit around a fire with all the remaining Jews and sing Kumbaya? Or 8 million people just don't matter to you? Kind of like those smoke stacks in Nazi Europe?

Now, 15 months after we've been pleading with you to stop, you clutch your pearls at the symptom of the disease rampant in each and every one of you who ignored those warnings. This warning.

This post, and every single post like it, is performative activism without doing any of the work of unpacking your bias against Israel and Jews.

Without unpacking that, doing the work, you don't give a flying fuck about Nazis.

You care about someone thinking you do.

As a kid learning about the holocaust, I never understood how people could let Nazis rise to power. But now I’m watching it happen in real time.

[hy6erion]

viktor and jayce fighting over you??

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞

⇢ 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨

1. The Scientific Method (or How to Win You Over)

It starts subtly—at least, as subtle as Jayce can manage.

“You know,” he says, leaning against your desk, broad shoulders blocking your view of the latest schematics, “I was thinking—you and I should go out sometime. Just the two of us. For research purposes.��

You don’t even have time to process before Viktor, seated across from you, speaks without looking up from his own work.

“Research into what? The effects of secondhand embarrassment?”

Jayce shoots him a glare. “Into team bonding, Viktor.”

“Mm. And what hypothesis are you testing? That you can single-handedly drive them to madness?” Viktor hums, scratching something in his notes. “A bold assumption, but I suppose it is not entirely unfounded.”

Jayce turns back to you, ignoring him. “Dinner. Drinks. Maybe some—”

“A headache,” Viktor mutters.

Jayce groans, running a hand down his face before pointing at you. “You. Pick a side here.”

You exhale, setting down your pen. “I don’t even know what we’re arguing about.”

“We aren’t arguing,” Viktor says at the same time Jayce huffs, “We are arguing.”

You stare at them both. They stare at each other.

This has been happening for weeks.

It’s not always this obvious—sometimes it’s in the little things, the way Viktor always ensures your coffee is warm but lets Jayce suffer with whatever’s left in the pot. Or how Jayce somehow always has an extra set of tools whenever you’re missing yours, grinning like he wasn’t just waiting for the opportunity.

And the way they bicker—gods, it never ends.

“Fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Jayce, we can do dinner. And Viktor, you can join.”

Jayce groans, throwing his head back. “Not the third-wheel invitation—”

“I accept,” Viktor interrupts smoothly.

Jayce turns to him, expression wounded. “Dude.”

“You do not own them, Jayce.”

“Neither do you!”

Viktor just smiles.

You take another sip of your coffee. This is going to be a long night.

2. The Art of Winning (or Just Being Petty)

“Y/n, my dearest, most trusted lab partner,” Viktor says, sidling up next to you while you’re examining some blueprints. “You are an artist of unparalleled skill. Would you mind assisting me with some designs?”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can answer, Jayce materializes from across the room.

“Woah, woah, hold on, I was just about to ask them for help.”

Viktor tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Just about to? How convenient.”

Jayce narrows his eyes. “You knew I was gonna ask them—”

“Mm. And yet, I asked first.”

“That doesn’t—”

“Time is linear, Jayce. Surely you understand this.”

Jayce looks ready to explode.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You both know I have other work to do, right?”

They don’t. They definitely don’t.

But Jayce recovers first, flashing you his most charming smile. “C’mon, you know I have the bigger project right now—”

“Size does not determine quality, Jayce,” Viktor interrupts. “By that logic, your brain should be much more effective.”

Jayce’s jaw drops. “Did you just—?”

“Mm?” Viktor takes a slow sip of his tea.

You sigh, turning away before you witness a murder. “I’m flipping a coin. Heads, I help Jayce. Tails, I help Viktor.”

Jayce’s shoulders relax. “That seems fair.”

Viktor hums, noncommittal.

You flip. The coin lands. You glance at it.

Then, you slap it onto your palm before either of them can see and say, “I’m helping myself today.”

Viktor huffs a quiet laugh, and Jayce groans, dropping his head onto the nearest surface.

“Brilliant,” Viktor murmurs. “I am rubbing off on you.”

Jayce mumbles something into the desk. You pat his shoulder in consolation before walking away, leaving them to their stalemate.

3. The Heart of the Matter (Or: Maybe They’re Not as Subtle as They Think)

At some point, you begin to wonder if they even know what they’re fighting over.

Because it’s not just lab work. It’s not just projects, or coffee, or who gets to sit next to you during meetings.

It’s you.

And they’re both smart enough to know it, even if neither of them says it outright.

It’s in the way Jayce’s gaze lingers whenever you laugh, like he’s memorizing the sound. The way Viktor’s voice softens when he murmurs your name, careful, like he knows the weight it holds.

It’s in how they both wait for you at the end of the day, pretending it’s just coincidence.

It’s in the way Viktor watches Jayce’s arm brush against yours and says nothing, but his fingers tighten around his cane. In how Jayce watches Viktor pull you in to murmur something close and he says nothing, but his jaw tenses.

It’s in the way neither of them will ever say it—but neither of them will yield, either.

And you?Well.

You just let them fight.

[euphoria-looney]

Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before. 

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

— 

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.” 

.

..

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

 A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream? 

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it. 

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name], 

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely, 

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

-

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

[5iyoomi]

Thangyu NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: poly!thangyu x fem!reader, they're probably so ooc here I'm so sorry, not proofread I'm posting this at 4 am, mentions of drugs & alcohol, implied dubcon/under-negotiated kink in one part, somnophilia, just general smut stuff A/N: FINALLY POSTING AFTER 20 YEARS LMAO. If this sucks don't @ me the last time I wrote was idek how long ago now

nsfw under the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

☆ If we’re being real here aftercare with them heavily depends on how they’re feeling…. But either way it’s pretty minimal, especially considering one of them practically falls asleep immediately (Thanos). Nam-gyu will make sure you’re all cleaned up and run you a bath if he feels like dealing with the mess right after. 

Thanos on the other hand takes it upon himself to cuddle up to you, long limbs entangled with yours as he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek or forehead and murmurs sweet nothings you can’t make out half the time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

☆ Both of them are tits men, it doesn’t matter if they’re big or small, they don’t give a shit. Even in a non-sexual manner, Thanos just likes to keep his hands under your shirt since he tends to run cold and it’s one of many excuses to be close to you. 

Nam-gyu isn’t as vocal about it but he doesn’t try to hide it. Whether it’s with an arm slung around your shoulder and his palm brushing your breasts, or full on touching you if he thinks another guy’s getting too close for comfort, you’ve gotten used to the constant feeling of hands on you.

On that note, Thanos’ favorite body part is his hands. He doesn’t necessarily get full on manicures, but he does take good care of them. He adores how big they are compared to yours and even Nam-gyu’s. The mere sight of his thick fingers wrapped around your smaller wrists never fails to make him dizzy.

If Nam-gyu had to choose, he’d say his hair. He likes when you tug at it while he eats you out because then he knows he’s doing something right. He gets greedy with it, guiding you to run your fingers through his hair just for the hell of it sometimes, or (not so) begrudgingly saying yes when you ask to braid it or put it in a ponytail.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

☆ Both of these freaks like to cum inside you and watch it spill out of you but especially Nam-gyu. There’s something about marking his territory that gets the raven-haired man off, because only he and Thanos get to fill you up to their heart's content. 

If there’s time for a quickie he’ll go about his day with a smug look on his face knowing you’re walking around dripping his and Thanos’ seed into your underwear. That if anyone were to flirt with you you’d be reminded that no one satisfies you like they do.

Thanos likes how it glistens on you after you blow him and let him cum on your face, using his thumb to further smear it on your skin until you’re whining in protest. It’s his way of staking his claim, in a way.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

☆ Thanos likes to make you come at least twice in your panties that way he has something to jerk himself off with when he knows you won’t be around for a while. He’ll inhale the scent of you with a tight fist around his cock, thinking about how cute you looked with his fingers pressing down on your puffy clit.

As much of a dominant streak as Nam-gyu has it’s almost laughably easy to flip the roles on him. Almost. You have to catch him when he has his guard down, which is usually right after you have sex or when he’s too high to realize what you’re trying to do. 

He doesn’t let it happen very often, and he won’t admit how much he likes it, but having you ride and praise/degrade him while Thanos watches is a guilty pleasure of his.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

☆ We all know both of them were up to some freaky shit in club pentagon like c’mon… And they can both be assholes but they’re hot and they know it, they 100% know how to please a girl. 

They aren’t the most experienced in serious relationships and romantic stuff, but they’ve had random hook-ups and one night stands before. You’re in good hands, literally and metaphorically.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

☆ If they’re in the mood to use you like a ragdoll, they’ll put you in doggy style with your hands tied behind your back so one of them can fuck you into the mattress while the other uses your throat. 

Otherwise their favorite is missionary. Not only can they watch every expression you pull while you’re blissed out and the way they sink into your warm heat with every thrust, but it’s easier to manhandle you like that, pushing your thighs up to your chest or pulling you into a needy kiss.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

☆ They’re more talkative and energetic when they’re high but I can’t see either of them cracking that many jokes during it in general. There might be a few here and there with both of them chuckling to each other, but they’re mostly serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

☆ I think it’d be absolutely hilarious if Thanos dyed his pubes purple but for the sake of discussion the carpet technically matches the drapes, it’s all natural color down there baby. He trims but still has a nice little happy trail that starts at his navel and leads down to his dick (he’s sensitive there, too. Do with that information what you will.)

Nam-gyu is more well groomed but he doesn’t care to fully shave, it’s less of a hassle that way.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

☆ They fuck you like they hate you but their actions give away how much they truly love you. Nam-gyu will tuck strands of hair behind your ear to keep it out of your face and trace comforting circles against your ankles while he has you bent over. 

A more sober, softer Thanos makes sure you’re okay when they’re being particularly rough. Either way, neither of them like being too far away from you for too long anyways, and you know they mean it when they say ‘I love you’ because they aren’t doing it just to say it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

☆ 90% of the time they don’t see the point because they have you, so what’s the point when they have a girlfriend that’s just as willing? On the rare occasion you’re not an option and they can’t get to each other they’ll scroll through the pictures and videos they’ve got of you and make it work.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

☆ This goes back to the hand thing but Thanos likes choking. He never puts too much pressure on you, his grip loose enough that you can usually push him off if you want or need to, but the power trip makes him impossibly harder. 

The veins in his hands bulge where they’re wrapped around your neck, and the slight sting of pain from your nails leaving moon-shaped indents on his forearms? He’s a goner.

Nam-gyu has a huge thing for somnophilia. It probably happens one night when he can’t sleep; he’s too lazy to get himself off but turned on enough that he can’t get back to sleep. 

Thanos is a deep sleeper, and he’s about to try to wake you up when he sees how peaceful you look: the soft rise and fall of your chest, lashes fluttering and the strap of your shirt falling off one of your shoulders. 

You groggily wake up to him pressed up behind your back, your panties pulled to the side as he uses your slick to slide his cock between your thighs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

☆ Literally anywhere inside of your shared apartment but they’ll never do it in any public setting hands down. Both of them are possessive and jealous, they wouldn’t even risk someone else being able to see you at your most vulnerable. Screw the neighbors that have to listen to you scream every night.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

☆ Just you, really. You dressing up pretty in lingerie does wonders too, but they aren’t picky when it comes to you and they definitely don’t need anything special. Pray that YOU can keep up with THEIR libido, actually.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

☆ Seriously hurting you is a no-no. They’re up to trying anything once if you or either of them wanna try something new to spice it up in the bedroom, but there’s a certain line they won’t cross. 

If they choke or slap you in any way it’s because you asked for it, and they’ll make up some sort of safe word or action like tapping them three times if you need them to stop/slow down.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

☆ Service doms? Nah, they eat you out for their pleasure. They don’t care if you’re shaking and pushing them away from you because you’ve lost count of how much you’ve come, these two get drunk on the taste of your pussy. 

They both have long fingers that curl just right to hit your sweet spot dead on, and Thanos’ are thicker, too. That paired with their rings and they’ll have you crying for them. Don’t get them wrong, they won’t argue if you get on your knees and pull on the waistband of their pants instead.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

☆ They do both! They can fuck you so hard and fast you’re seeing stars afterwards or they can take their time with you, pouring all their desperation and want into making love to you. They’ll never call it that, though, but you know they’re secretly saps.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

☆ They’re always down. There will genuinely not be a time you ask them, even if you have to be somewhere within the next 5 minutes, that they say no. They might not happen often but if a quick session can sate all of you for long enough then running a little late is more than worth it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

☆ Back to them being disgustingly possessive they aren’t big risk takers in the sense of doing it anywhere semi-public or straight up public, but they’ll always experiment. In their mind, if they already know your body like the back of their own hands, why not play around with things that’ll enhance the experience? 

They start out simple with handcuffs, and if you’re up for it they might introduce toys too. They don’t mind stuff like anal either.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

☆ They could go all night if they wanted to, but Thanos doesn’t last very long with the amount of stimulation unless he’s purposefully trying to edge you or himself. Nam-gyu has a bit more stamina being younger than him, so if Thanos gets tired he’ll keep himself busy pleasuring you while Nam-gyu uses your cunt.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

☆ Not many, they have handcuffs and rope that they’ll use to restrain you sometimes. They have a paddle that they’ll break out to use on you if they’re feeling mean, but not crazy often.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

☆ Nam-gyu is the fucking KING of teasing you oh my god. He’ll finger you and ignore your clit for hours, stopping when you clench around him because he knows you’re close. 

He’ll hold your hips down so you can’t grind against him while you’re sitting on his lap and making out, signaling Thanos to run his hands up and down your sides and pressing feather-light kisses to the nape of your neck but nothing more.

Thanos likes to tease you from time to time, but usually it’s more torture for him to hold back from sliding into you than it is for you to feel him slipping the tip just past your tight walls before pulling back out.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

☆ In general neither of them are exactly loud, but they’re not quiet either. They’ll grunt and pant in your ear, deep, guttural moans that send shivers up your spine.

If you’re topping Nam-gyu (or Thanos) he’s more loud, but he’ll try to bite down on his tongue or bottom lip to contain his whines and whimpers. You’ll have to force a thumb between his teeth if you wanna hear him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

☆ They’ll occasionally smoke weed or drink before they fuck you because it’s a different kind of high from their usual drugs, and they won’t force you to do it but if you do wanna try they like to shotgun the smoke directly into your mouth and then kiss you. 

It usually starts with Nam-gyu teasing you about your apprehension, then being surprised when you climb onto his lap and ask for a hit. He’ll give Thanos that look, then pull you in by your chin and tell you to open. 

The simple but direct command has you clenching your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed by either man.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

☆ Thanos is about average but he’s thick and veiny (and he’d be uncircumcised hear me out). His dick also curves slightly to the right. That’s ALL I’m saying about him otherwise I won’t shut up. Second more in-depth post later maybe.

Nam-gyu’s isn’t as thick but he’s longer than Thanos, reaching into the deepest parts of you and stretching you out with ease.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

☆ Let’s just say high. They’re both already always horny separately, but together you’ll be lucky to get any sleep.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

☆ Light sleeper Nam-gyu 🤝 Deep sleeper Thanos. Very much self explanatory but Thanos will be out like a light within minutes, meanwhile Nam-gyu likes to wait until you’re both asleep to really get comfortable anyway <3

[airlock]

it's been an intriguing time strolling through the notes here! let's see what's there to say

firstly I'll mention again that the sender of the question doesn't think this is a good idea either (it's... not hard to conclude as much, I'll say), but wanted to start some conversations about how to effectively address bullying.

on that, one thing I'll say is that it does matter to hold bullies accountable for what they do! that's not the same thing as punishing them -- let alone in the absolutely arbitrary manner suggested here -- but it's the first step to any real solution, because without that, you're not even acknowledging that the bullying has happened.

and you know what's really unhelpful towards that end? this limp talk I've seen so many times again in the notes about how bullies are just poor little sad kids with abusive home lives, so we shouldn't do anything too mean to them.

it's true that some bullies have difficult home lives! cold comfort that is for the kids whose school lives are being turned into hell by them. like, I'm all in favour of intervening in cases of abuse at home, and none in favour of punishment for punishment's sake -- but the shitty home life isn't there in the room when the bullying is taking place, is it? each thing has its own time and place to be addressed.

but most of all, it's just not true that trouble in paradise is the big driver behind bullying. in the vast majority of cases, bullying simply happens because it can happen. because children, naturally, don't usually have highly developed moral codes and just follow their whims, and if their whims take them in the direction of "making this kid my punching bag feels good and rewarding", it figures that they'll keep moving in that direction until an equal and opposite force is applied, y'know? and the more factors play against this opposing force -- such as unequal social dynamics (bullying famously follows lines of gender, sexuality, class and race!) -- the more entrenched the bullying becomes. and let me tell ya, the kids who have the easiest time getting away with bullying again and again are not usually the ones with difficult lives, au contraire.

so yes, we don't need random, arbitrary and self-defeating punishments for bullying; the direct question of the poll is pretty easy to solve for. the conversation that the asker was hoping to inspire is a more tangled one. because we do need to do more than wring our hands and feel sorry for bullies. what form that "more" takes is a complicated topic that can't be answered in any broad generalizing manner -- and is best answered by people less socially inept than me -- but knowing to head in that general direction is the first prequisite for any real solutions.

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[rafesslxt]

unknown number

pt. 1/2

SUMMARY: not only you are surprised when you get a drunk text from your brother that you should pick him up from a party - Topper's just as shocked as you are.

WARNINGS: Thornton!reader, brothers best friend trope, bickering, tension, quick deep talk with Topper

WORD COUNT: 1,7k

NOTE: english is not my first language | thank‘s to everyone for reading and supporting, comments and - are highly apprecaiated <3

🥥 🍋‍🟩 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 🥭 🍍

Your body tried to make its way through the sweaty crowd dancing and drinking around you, the air thick with the scent of weed and expensive perfume. This wasn't on your agenda for tonight, getting your drunk brother out of a party, that's for sure.

"Hey sis, can u get me? I'm drunk as hell."

You weren't surprised, though. After Sarah had ditched him for John B, which was more than understandable for you but hey – Topper never wanted to listen to your advice, he seemed to try drowning the pain and hurt ego away by drinking and smoking.

The house you currently were in was familiar to you. Since Sarah's your best friend you spend a lot of time here but never during these party's, cause most of the time Rafe was the host and well - let's just say you tried to avoid any chance of being in a room with him together.

Because besides the hatred for their sister's trying to live the pogue life, Topper and Rafe had one thing more in common. They fell for the sister of their best friend. The only problem was, that Rafe never acted on his feeling. While Topper may be a complete idiot, he at least showed Sarah some kind of feelings, trying to wrap her around his fingers. But for Rafe? Bickering and hating was his way.

But Rafe apparently had a new way of drawing you into his space.

"Hey, did you see Topper?" You asked a guy which's name you could never remember no matter how often your brother tried to tell you. You just knew he often hang with them together. "No, sorry. Ask Rafe, he was with him a while ago." You instantly rolled your eyes but smiled at him and nodded in a way that was supposed to tell him 'thank you'.

You made your way further through the people until you reached the living room where you saw Rafe sitting on the couch, talking to two girls on either side of him.

Not bothering that you may interrupted something, you walked up behind him, not even caring enough to wait until he might realize you were standing behind him. "Have you seen my brother? He told me to come pick him up."

You looked down at his head which bend until it laid against the backrest, his pretty blue eyes meeting yours. Pretty ? No, you meant blue. Just blue.

"Oh If it isn't the princess of the Pogues, gracing us with her presence this night.", his voice dripped with sarcasm. "And to what do we owe this unexpected visit?" You rolled your eyes at his irritating words and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Did you see Topper, Rafe?", you repeated.

His smile widened before he sat upright again, took a beer that was probably his from the desk, turned around and locked eyes with you again, walking around the couch towards you.

"Someone's in a grumpy mood today." he remarked, taking a sip of his beer. "Rafe If you don't-" "No need to be so uptight princess. The party just stared." You scoffed. "Well, apparently not If my brother's texting me to come pick his drunk ass up."

"Give him some time, he's trying to heal from a heartbreak. I mean I told him my sister is never hanging around for long but- well you know him. Had to try for himself."

You were slowly getting tired of the conversation and Rafe seemed to notice. "And as for where your brother is; I saw him with Kelce in the kitchen a few minutes ago. Just before you arrived, I think."

Without giving him a second more of your time, you turned around, walking towards the kitchen. Why didn't he just tell you 'Hey, Topper is in the kitchen.' ? Why does he always have to bicker with you and beat around the bush. Ugh.

Sarah always said he liked you but before Rafe Cameron actually had serious feelings for you or even anyone, hell would freeze over.

You walked into the kitchen of the Cameron's, immediately spotting your brother and Kelce, laughing loudly between some shots they were taking.

"Wow. You're really setting the bar lower and lower." You scoffed, making their heads turn towards you. "Y/n? What are you doing here? Aren't you with your little friends?" "Oh, hey pipsqueak." Kelce chuckled from behind Topper, waving at you with a drunken grin.

"Come on Topper, I don't have all night." I sighed, already about to leave the kitchen when he looked at me as If I had torn apart his favorite teddy bear apart that he hid under his bed whenever someone came over. "What the hell are you talking about?" "What the hell do you mean what the hell I'm talking about? You texted me to come pick you up because you're too drunk."

Just as he was about to answer, Rafe entered the kitchen and stood beside you. "Topper, why don't you listen to your sister and go with her, you've had enough for tonight."

Feeling betrayed, Topper was too stunned to speak, looking at Kelce for some backup. "Hey man don't get me into this." he replied to his look, throwing up his hands and spilling some of the liquid that was inside his shot glass.

"I didn't text you!" he exclaimed, reached into his pocket and searching for his phone. "Shit.. can't find it." You rolled your eyes, your patience slowly but clearly wearing off. "Topper.." "I swear I didn't!", he swore while continuing to search the insides of his few pockets. "Damn no really, where is it?", he asked himself.

"Come on man." Kelce chuckled and threw an arm around his friend, slowly guiding him outside the kitchen and towards the front door where you parked your car.

You stepped aside to let them pass, your gaze landing on Rafe who was already looking at you, licking his bottom lip before speaking. "Here." He reached into his pocket and handed you Topper's phone. "What? Why do you have my brother's phone ?", you asked him, as It didn't hit you yet what was going in.

"Thought he might need someone to pick him up before he would be a complete mess.", he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and looking away for a short moment.

Your eyebrows shot up as the realization finally hit you."You texted me to come pick him up? Why would you do that?" He chuckled and looked down at you. " Like I said; I was worried about my friend." "Bullshit.", you called him out right away. "If you were worried about him, you would have told me where he was instead of beating around the bush."

"Just wanted some conversation." he replied simply, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes while doing so, trying not to let him get under your skin. It would only please him.

"Good night, Rafe." you smiled at him before turning around and pushing through sweaty crowd again, reaching your car where Kelce and Topper were already waiting for you.

You pressed the little button on your car key, allowing them to get in while you were still a few meters away. Kelce jumped into the back seat, and Topper settled next to you in the front.

You slid behind the wheel and closed your door, glancing over your shoulder at Topper’s friend. “Should I drive you home too?” you asked, reaching for your seatbelt and securing it right after.

“Sure thing, pipsqueak,” he grinned, his eyes heavy and his body slumping down onto the back seat. You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes and started the engine, pulling away from the property.

A few minutes into the drive, you looked over to your right. “You’re lucky. Mom and Dad aren’t home tonight,” you smirked slowly, trying to lighten the mood since he was still your annoying brother. Annoying, but family.

A scoff escaped his lips as he stared out the window. “As if they’re ever home.” 

You sighed quietly, shrugging your shoulders. “Well, it’s still better than having to explain why you’re drunk and high.” 

“They wouldn’t understand anyway. They never do. All they do is scream and complain. They don’t care.” He turned his head toward you, studying your face. “But honestly, I don’t know which one of us they’re more disappointed in,” he chuckled.

“Yeah… Mom’s worried I’m drinking myself into a coma, while Dad is worried you’ll run off with Maybank or some other pogue.” The car fell silent for a moment before you both erupted into unexpected laughter. 

"Honestly, I don’t know which one is worse,” you giggled, gripping the wheel a little tighter as you turned onto your street. "Not sure who's setting the bar lower now, huh?" Topper smirked.

“I guess we should take him with us tonight before his parents have a heart attack,” you suggested, nodding toward Kelce, who was snoring in the back seat.

“Yeah…” he glanced at his friend and then back at you. “Thank you for picking me up, even though I didn’t text you. It’s good to know I can still count on you.” He smiled softly at you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"No problem, Topper." you smiled back at him before turning off your car and finally parked in your garage. "Let‘s get him inside.", you grinned, eager to get out like Topper, when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse.

Hm, probably the pogues asking If everything‘s alright after you left so quick with only telling them it‘s an 'family emergency'.

You opened your little white purse Sarah had given you on your last birthday and rummaged through it, fishing out your phone. You had a few messages from JJ and Sarah, asking you when - wait.

What was that? A message by an unknown number.

unknown number

i took the liberty of grabbing your number while I had the chance to.

was nice seeing you tonight, hot and bothered like always..

sweets dreams, angel.

xx rafe

That son of a - wait, why were you smiling together with your heart beating faster ?

masterlist | taglist | navigation | valentines day special

tags: @supernaturaldawning @cardibre91 @aegonsslxt @juliet-017

xoxo sarah <3

[scissorcentral]

Abby with a reader who's just •_• bug eyed and silent lmao, very oblivious to everything, always in their own world, but very endearing and sweet to abs <3

Abby with a more introverted(?) reader-

warnings- (there aren't really i don't think)

-Abby literally thinks you are the most adorable human being ever. Whenever you space out during group discussions, she literally can't help but laugh to herself before slinging her arm around you and holding you against her until you come back to reality (because of course you're always directly next to her).

-If anyone tries to make little jokes or tease you about your speaking habits or anything about you, she will shut them up so fast you literally won't even have time to notice. It gets a point where nobody even thinks about trying because Abby will either clap back, aiming to destroy their ego, or give them the most insane death glare. Like the type of look that could kill, and it probably could if she tried hard enough.

-You can't help but mess with her fingers and drift off sometimes and she literally will have like hearts in her eyes as she watches you. You're completely silent just running your fingers all over her hands and she will just watch in awe with a soft blush on her cheeks. She's literally enamored by you and whatever you do.

-Whenever you are out on patrol together, she ALWAYS makes sure to keep an eye on you no matter what. She knows you can get a little off track, your mind sometimes wandering causing you to wander a bit to. After her dad's death she refuses to lose you so she makes sure to never let you out of her sight as long as she can help it.

-Sometimes you guys will sneak off and find a building with an accessible roof and you will just sit for hours. Sometimes you guys won't even speak, and other times Abby will talk for the entire time as you listen to every word she says. Sometimes its rant and other times it's some stupid store that sends you both into a fit of giggles. Her main goal is always getting some laughs out of you which she always does, rant or not. She lives for the sound of your laughter.

-Her dream is to be able to see the world through your eyes. How you are able to get through most of your days without talking or talking so little. How you can be so oblivious to things but also so insightful to other things. She is so obsessed with you and how you go about your life. She wishes she could know what it's like, but even though she really can't she does everything in her power to understand you.

-Before you guys got together, Abby had been literally in love with you, but you never noticed her advances. She would get so angry, like screaming into her pillow angry. It would make her so embarrassed how pathetic she'd get but she still continued to try. Eventually you caught on after she had to be so extremely blunt. Now the whole thing is something she just teases you about, but your obliviousness is something she has grown to completely love. It's so cute to her now(it wasn't cute when she was putting her reputation on the line with her extremely obvious advances(well obvious to everyone but you))

-If you ever get lost in your head she's always there to try and ease you out. It becomes a thing she is really good at. Holding you close to her, her thumbs rubbing softly over your skin, light kisses on your temple. It's sweet and something you become incredibly grateful for. You will always show your appreciation by leaving a new coin on her nightstand that you had secretly found on a patrol.

-Abby makes it her fucking mission to see you smile. Whatever she has to do she will do (which can be a little concerning). She thinks your smile is the cutest thing in the world and would literally die to see it once more.

-If anyone in the stadium says legit one negative word about you, she will lose it. Nobody is allowed to talk bad about you. Ever. She is so extremely protective of you. You're her everything. She knows you aren't classified as a "completely normal person" by everyone's else's standards but that's why she loves you so much. The way your eyes will glaze over slightly when you space out, the way you'll just stare at people when they send you a backhanded compliment, and the way she's the only person who gets to hear you speak and even then, it's usually quiet whispers. You've got her completely whipped. You got the Abby Anderson completely and utterly whipped.

notes- Hi. I am actually horrified to post this as I haven't written and posted on Tumblr in multiple years so it's weird to be back. This is such shit, but I hope you do enjoy. To me this writing feels like a fourth grader who just learned a few new vocab words but whatever. I'll probably go back and fix it and add more but I'm still having a crisis from just writing this so we will see. Hope you like it.

(also i didn't know how to word the title but i tried.)

[steddieas-shegoes]

i hate the way i don't hate you

for @steddielovemonth inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You

rated m | 2571 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: inspired by 10 things i hate about you but it's so short so keep that in mind, enemies to friends to lovers, time skips, getting together, falling in love, modern au

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

“Let me get this straight: you asked him out as part of a bet.”

“Mhm.”

“Because he’s insufferable and everyone in your little misfit group decided it would be funny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And your plan was to stand him up at prom so he would know how it feels to be heartbroken.”

“In a nutshell.”

“And then you fell in love with him.”

Eddie blinks at Robin, who looks like she might kill him with her bare hands. Honestly, he deserves it. He kinda hopes she makes him suffer.

“All signs point to yes,” he says.

She sighs. And then she sits down. And then sighs again.

“This is absolutely bullshit, you know that right?” She finally asks. “Steve’s a good person. He never deserved to be treated like his feelings don’t matter.”

“I know. And I should’ve known that from the beginning.”

“You fucked this up. He’s gonna hate you.”

Eddie knows that’s a good possibility. He hopes Steve is forgiving, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to ask him to be.

“If he does, I deserve it. But I came to you because I couldn’t lie anymore,” Eddie knows his reputation with his friends is on the line. He doesn’t care. “I’m gonna talk to him tonight and let him make his own decision.”

“You’re gonna tell him the day of prom that his prom date is an asshole?” Robin stands up again. “You’re gonna ruin his senior prom.”

“I’m ruining it either way. People are gonna tell him about it at prom if I don’t tell him before,” Eddie argues. “He deserves to hear it from me.”

“He deserves to not be a circus act,” Robin says, but nods. “Make sure you return your tux tomorrow. His card will get charged a penalty if it’s late.”

Eddie doesn’t tell her he already returned the tux. He figures it’s probably not the time.

He knows Steve won’t want to be near him after he tells him about the bet.

****

One month earlier

“You’d never land a guy like that anyway,” Gareth jokes. “Steve Harrington wouldn’t even glance your way let alone date you.”

“He’s so uptight, he’d laugh in your face if you even tried,” Frankie adds.

Eddie watches Steve carry Robin’s books to her locker so she can carry her trumpet case and science project.

“Wanna bet?”

****

Two weeks earlier

“You write music?” Steve asks as Eddie closes his notebook.

“I try,” Eddie smiles at him. “It’s not always good. It’s rarely good.”

“Could I hear some of it?”

“Maybe.” Eddie lights his cigarette, smirking around it as Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. “Do you like metal?”

“I’ve never really listened to it,” Steve admits. “But I’d give it a shot if that’s what you wrote.”

“Come to my band’s show this weekend. I might play an original song as our encore,” Eddie says. “Might even dedicate it to you.”

The blush gets deeper.

****

The night before

“You know I used to wanna be an astronaut?” Steve says as he leans his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Still would if I was any good at math. I mean, I get by in class, but I’m in the easiest classes. Probably not astronaut material. Plus, I get seasick.”

Eddie laughs, something he’s done a lot with Steve. Something he never expected to be doing so much, actually.

“You could still work with NASA. Maybe you can’t go to space, but you could help people get there,” Eddie offers. “They’ve got plenty of people working in the office.”

“Yeah, but I think it would be hard to be so close, yet so far, ya know? Like I’m technically no closer to space there than I am right now. If anything, I’d be farther because I’d be stuck in a building, but here I’m with you,” Steve says simply.

Eddie leans his head on top of Steve’s, looking ahead instead of above.

His heart skips a beat when Steve’s hand rests on his knee.

“I’m glad I get to be here with you,” he says quietly.

Eddie swallows around another lie.

****

Present day

“Eddie! What’re you doing here?”

Eddie hates how excited Steve is to see him. It’s gonna make this so much harder.

His chest aches as he gives him a small, fake smile. Steve notices immediately because of course he does. Steve sees Eddie in ways his own friends don’t.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear it already in his tone, the way his body is rearing up for disappointment. Steve’s said it himself before: he’s always prepared for the other shoe to drop because everyone’s got two feet.

“Can we sit?”

“No. You can tell me whatever it is just like this.”

Eddie accepts it because arguing now isn’t going to help anything. Sitting or standing, Steve is going to be pissed at him.

“I can’t go to prom with you.”

Steve is looking at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean? Was something wrong with the tux? It’s not a big deal if you wanna go in jeans. I promise I was kidding about leaving you in a corner.”

Eddie gives an unamused laugh. “No, that’s- no. I lied to you. For over a month now. I only asked you out because my friends didn’t think you’d even talk to me, let alone agree to go to prom with me.”

Steve’s silence hurts almost as much as the tears that are gathering in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I ever even bet them that I could get you to go out with me. I’m sorry that sorry isn’t enough.”

Eddie can feel tears in his own eyes, but it’s not fair of him to cry. He caused this. He’s the reason Steve is upset. He shouldn’t get to be upset in front of him.

“Steven! The tux is pressed!” Steve’s mom yells from the front door. “Come inside so I can make sure the tailor got the sleeves right.”

Steve breathes in slowly before turning to his mom and telling her he’ll be in in a minute. He turns back to Eddie and sniffles.

“I guess I’ll see you at school.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. Really.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Steve walks into the house, leaves Eddie in the driveway.

****

Eddie paces his room.

There’s not a lot of space to do that, but he manages to wear a track in the carpet. Wayne will be home any minute asking him why he isn’t at the prom, why he isn’t with Steve.

Eddie will tell him and he’ll give him that same look he did when he told him about turning a kid away from Hellfire Club. It’s disappointment, and Eddie hates it.

The front door opens, Wayne’s footsteps echo to the kitchen while he puts away his ice pack and leftover containers from lunch, he pops open a can of beer, and then walks to Eddie’s room. He knocks on the door.

Eddie starts crying.

Wayne rushes into his room, sets his beer on the bedside table, and gathers Eddie into his arms.

“What’s goin’ on, son? Thought you’d be getting ready for your dance,” Wayne says, but it just makes Eddie cry harder.

Eventually, he calms down enough to explain.

Wayne keeps holding him because Wayne will always hold him, even when he’s disappointed in him.

“Well, he didn’t punch ya in the face,” Wayne finally says. “You apologized?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t matter. I still hurt him and he won’t forgive me.”

“You think you deserve to be forgiven?” He wasn’t asking meanly, just genuinely inquiring.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

If he’d asked earlier, he would’ve given a resounding ‘no.’ But he knows how sorry he is, and even though Steve probably never will forgive him, he does hope he will.

“If you’re really sorry, he’ll forgive ya,” Wayne settles on.

Eddie shakes his head, wipes his eyes and then his nose, frowning at the snot on his fingers. He wipes it on his shirt and falls back on his bed. Wayne laughs at him, pats his chest, and stands to leave.

“You could do something big for him,” Wayne suggests.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, you showed him that song you wrote about him yet?”

“I can’t show him that! Not now!”

“Why not? It’s about as big a declaration of love you can give.”

Eddie hates when Wayne’s right.

****

He gets Robin on board with bribery. A lot of it.

Money is definitely involved, more money than he really should spend, as well as his best weed (“it’s not for me!”) and free rides for the entire summer whenever she wants.

But she agrees to get Steve to The Hideout on Saturday night. She’s not good at lying, but she manages to tell a half-truth and Steve believes her.

Eddie’s a nervous wreck. His bandmates were read the riot act from him and from Wayne. They all apologized to Steve at school, though he didn’t really accept them.

It didn’t give Eddie much hope at all.

He’s doing it anyway.

Robin put in the effort of getting Steve here, so he’s gotta do it.

“You know ‘em and sometimes like ‘em just fine…Corroded Coffin!”

The guys all go on stage ahead of him when the crowd starts cheering. He takes one more deep breath and follows.

Gareth counts them in and they play.

It’s good, maybe one of their liveliest crowds yet. He can’t see many of the faces, but he knows Steve’s there. He saw Robin’s shirt when the lights dimmed between the first song and the second. She wouldn’t stay if Steve left.

Jeff introduces them after the third song like always, but pokes a little fun at Eddie.

“Sorry about our guitarist being a bit moody. He’s feeling deeply emotional about love,” Jeff starts the next song before Eddie can argue.

It’s a great show.

Everyone’s having fun, even Eddie.

But then the guys all sip on water and it’s Eddie’s turn to introduce his song. The song for Steve.

“Hey everyone,” Eddie starts, awkwardly. He’s not usually like this on stage. “Got a new song tonight. I wrote this for someone who I don’t deserve, but who I care about a lot. I know he’s mad and he should be. It may not fix anything, but I hope he knows that I mean every word.”

Gareth’s drums are soft for this one, just there to keep the beat with Frankie on the bass. Jeff moved out of the spotlight, still playing rhythm, but keeping the attention on Eddie while he sings.

He sings about falling for someone unexpected, wanting to create a love story better than Shakespeare. He sings about the boy who wanted to discover the stars, and the boy who wanted to hold his hand while he did. He sang about not knowing that he was capable of this kind of love, and wanting to have it forever.

When the song ends, the crowd claps, but they clearly aren’t here for the romantic ballad he just sang.

He lets Gareth count in for the next song and they go back to the loud, chest-thumping music they usually play.

He doesn’t see Robin anymore, and he decides then that if Steve left, he did everything he could for now. He can’t be more sorry than he is and he can’t force Steve to think more of him.

“Good show guys,” Jeff says as they tear down the stage. All of them are responsible for their own equipment, but they also help out the bar manager by unplugging the electrical and rolling the wires when they’re done. “And a great job on your song, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie gives him a small smile as he closes his guitar case. “Don’t know if it worked.”

“It did.”

Eddie turns at Steve’s voice, nearly falling over when he sees how good Steve looks. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and ripped jeans, something outside of his norm, probably trying to fit in with this crowd a bit. Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Steve.” Eddie isn’t sure who’s talking, but it must be him because Steve’s looking at him with shining eyes and the same smile he always gave him when he looked like he wanted to hold his hand. “You’re here.”

“Robin insisted,” Steve admits, stepping closer to Eddie. “But then I told her to head home so I could talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Steve’s mouth lifts in a smirk for a moment before he schools his features again.

“So you wrote that song for me?”

“Yeah. Is it too much?”

Steve steps closer again, only a few inches separating them now. He shakes his head. “Not too much, no. Maybe just enough.”

���Enough for you to forgive me?”

“I might be on the path of forgiveness.” Steve touches his chest, palm over his heart. “But can I ask you something?”

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

“What were you hoping to happen when you made the bet?”

Eddie has to think about that. Of all the things he’s thought about, this isn’t one of them.

Steve waits for him, though. He’s patient. One of the many amazing things about him.

“I think I just wanted to be right about you,” Eddie finally admits.

Steve nods once. “A lot of people wanna assume things about me because of who my friends were a couple years ago, and who my parents are, and how I always dress nice and act like a bitch. It’s easier to just think I’m a bad person than think I have any depth at all. Especially in high school. Even though most of us are adults now, no one really acts like it.”

“I’m extremely immature. You should probably know that if you’re gonna forgive me,” Eddie says.

“You’re not as immature as you pretend to be at school,” Steve smiles. “I’ve seen you, Ed. I know the bad boy against the grain guy isn’t all you are.”

“And I know there’s a lot more to you than your pretty face, though that’s a bonus.”

Steve kisses him and the guys all cheer for him. He’s laughing against Steve’s mouth, waving one hand at the guys to make them leave.

“Robin said you were crying when you told her,” Steve whispers against his mouth.

“She’s a traitor.”

“So you were?”

Eddie sighs. “Yes, I cried. I hated how much I knew it would hurt you to find out the truth.”

“You still have to make it up to me a little,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Well, I remember something in the song about worshiping me on your knees? Or was that a weird religious reference?”

Eddie kisses Steve again, smiling so much that their teeth clack against each other almost painfully.

“I’m an atheist,” Eddie replies.

“We’ve got a long night ahead of us then, don’t we?”

Eddie groans. “I still have to help load all our stuff-”

“Dude. You were forgiven by a guy who definitely could find better than you. We can handle the stuff. Consider it more of an apology for us being dicks, too,” Jeff interrupts.

Steve grabs Eddie’s shirt and tugs him along. “I’m not gonna tell them I forgive them until tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” Eddie looks down at the way Steve’s ass fills out the jeans he’s in. “On second thought, maybe next week sometime.”

[suzukiblu]

Fourth 1k of the thank-you 5k I promised y'all behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon bites his lip and kind of wishes–kind of wishes Red Tornado wouldn’t leave, maybe? But . . . well, the cape smells as much like him as anything does–as much as metal and wires and machinery can smell like someone, anyway–and it’s, like . . . Red Tornado’s leaving it with him. And he gave it to him. So it’s like . . . so he has it. Because Red Tornado just . . . gave it to him. 

He sniffles; scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his face. Then he plays back the video again to figure out how to fold it up right and jumps around a bit to find the different ways the omega in it uses different things. He only used Suzie’s blanket as, like–a base or a lining, kinda, and Cissie’s towel wasn’t all that big and everything else was either clothes or scent blockers, so he’s not sure what to do with something this big. Like, he could just layer it over Suzie’s, but if he’s trying to fill up some space and really make a nest . . . 

The best thing she makes with a blanket in the video–which, like, obviously that’s the closest they’re getting to a cape, in this situation–the best thing is her folding a fluffy leopard-print blanket into a big squishy-looking heart, which he just thinks is fucking cool to be able to do. Like, he is definitely not putting anything heart-shaped in this nest, but it’s definitely cool. She also made some flowers and stuff like that, but those were all with little stuff like handkerchiefs and towels and, like, also not actually a shape he wants to put in his nest. That’s, like–decorative, or whatever. That kind of stuff’s for . . . 

Like, that’s what moms do so their nests are cute for their–pups, and all. They make, like . . . little folded animals and flowers and shapes to line the edge of the nest; stuff like that. So they can, like–nest with their pups. Make things, like . . . cute, yeah. Fun for them, and fun little things to teach them how to do themselves, if they’re, like–omegas too, or whatever. 

So . . . yeah. 

. . . he guesses sometimes also omegas who are inviting a suitor or datemate or whatever in make flowers or cool little shapes too, but . . . 

It doesn’t matter. Kon couldn’t even have pups, even if he, like–wanted to, or whatever, and he’s definitely not dating anybody or anything, so–yeah. Not relevant. 

He figures he’ll probably just, like–roll Red Tornado’s cape up, really. He remembers the omega in the video making a rolled pillow-thing with the edges tucked in so it wouldn’t, like, instantly unroll, and that seems like something that’d work pretty good. Definitely it’ll make a bigger pillow than any of the other stuff has, too. She also made a triangle and a donut-shape and, like, obviously a square and a rectangle, but the roll just seems like . . . he doesn’t know, just it seems . . . 

It–feels best, he thinks, and isn’t sure if that’s that whole “listening to your inner omega” thing the video was talking about or not, but it’s . . . it makes him feel kinda–good, thinking maybe it is. Maybe it’s, like . . . maybe he has a little bit of those . . . instincts, or whatever. 

He . . . did wanna nest, before he presented. He just, like . . . he just . . . 

He did wanna, he admits to himself. 

He rolls up Red Tornado’s cape and tucks the ends of it in like in the video, then carefully sets it against the side of the nesting pit opposite of everyone else’s “pillows” and tries to make sure it’s, like–kinda fluffed, he guesses, or at least as fluffed as a folded cape can get. Just–full, he guesses. 

It’s still pretty bare-looking for a nest, but Kon feels a weird twisty sort of . . . feeling, kinda. Like he did–something good, kinda. He really wants more stuff in it, though, but– 

The video’s still playing, and the omega in it holds up a denim jacket and then starts folding that into a pillow, and Kon realizes he’s a total dumbass. He is literally still wearing his jacket, for crying out loud, like–geez, how was his jacket not the first thing he used? He doesn’t need his own scent, obviously, but it’d still be another pillow’s worth of space and hell, he’s used it as a pillow before, even. Like, in the field or on the road or on set or just, like . . . wherever. And like–fuck it, even if he doesn’t need his own scent, he still likes it. 

Well, like–he means he still likes his jacket, but honestly the cream soda pheromones are, like . . . 

He just–it’s an omega scent. A really omega scent. One nobody’d ever, ever mistake for a beta’s or alpha’s. 

So . . . yeah, he likes his scent too. 

“I’m a moron, buddy,” he tells the Super-Cycle with a wry snort as he takes his sunglasses out of the pocket of his jacket to toss into the front seat with Bart’s weird cowboy boots and spurs and hat, because like, obviously those are not nest-friendly and he doesn’t wanna accidentally snap or crush ‘em. He goes through enough pairs as it is, seriously. Really he should ditch his own boots and probably his gloves up there too, but, like–later, probably. Once he’s built up his–nest a little more, with whatever Red Tornado’s gonna bring him. Because, like–Red Tornado said he was gonna bring him more stuff to use. 

Kon feels that weird twisty feeling again, like something’s good, and then huffs at himself and rewinds the video a little so he’ll be able to follow along with the omega on-screen. She’s got denim, not leather, but it can’t be that different a folding process, right? 

So yeah, that’ll work, he decides as the video resumes playing right before the jacket-folding and he strips his jacket off to–

–to–

Kon strips his jacket off and catches a trace of–a trace of a scent, just briefly, and remembers–

Superman touched his jacket, earlier. 

And his jacket still smells like . . . like Superman’s blockers, and the muddied not-really-there traces of pheromones that he’s never fully scented underneath them, and . . . 

His jacket smells like Superman. 

[kay-and-bea]

daisy has an embarrassment kink and it's fun to tease her for how vanilla she is and how easy it would be to get her into heavy stuff like exhibitionism and getting tortured. toadette is a princess pillow who does none of the heavy lifting, and starts crying/fainting the minute she sees a drop of blood. not her fault but it's not my speed either.

what are ur thoughts on these matters darling, i beg to know like the peasent you perceive me to be while trampling in your court

who is the most fuckable mario kart character? see usually everybody wants to say Bowser but i think he looks dumb as fuck in his little car. so it naturally has to be somebody like Toadette (trans girl scientist who can throw it back) King Boo (for the tongue) or Funky Kong (no explanation needed)

[wrttenbyhan]

midnight comforts

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 :

scared!fem reader x comforting boyfriend!han jisung

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :

i wasn't ignoring you guys - the next thing i was working on was taking way too long so i decided to make this while you wait - also follow my instagram hanswish! i follow back ~

han always did more than he could handle. he gave you extra presents on special occasions, made sure to give you lots of hugs and kisses everyday and made time to listen to your problems.

you sometimes thought it was too much, but he would always say that it was fine and that he wanted to do this, he wanted to do it for you. you still think that he does a lot either way.

you had a nightmare. han screamed at you to leave and never come back. it felt so real so that when you woke up, you started to cry.

han stirred and woke up, annoyed about being interrupted in his relaxing slumber. but when he saw you crying, his heart broke and he held you close.

“oh you poor thing.. what’s up?”

you tell him the nightmare you just had and kept sobbing into his shirt. he ran his fingers through your hair and sighed.

“it was just a dream, yeah? just breathe,”

he inhaled and exhaled slowly and loudly so you can hear,

“just like that. you’re doing so well. do you want tea? or perhaps some warm milk?”

you don’t respond, the only reply han got was a few sniffles and a small sob. he sighed once more and held you close, rubbing your back gently, trying his best not to mess up.

“shh.. you’re alright, love. everything is fine. i’m here. it was just a nightmare. i would never do anything to hurt you.”

he pressed a few kisses to your head before whispering,

“come on.. let’s get up. you want warm milk, right?”

you nodded and he nodded as well. he shifted out of the bed, slowly standing up. he looks back at you and holds out a hand.

you took han’s warm hand, still sniffling, and he guided you out of bed and into the kitchen,. the entire house was quiet and dark so no one was apparently awake besides you two at the moment.

“sit here for me while i prepare your milk, okay?”

he led you to the barstool and patted your back, going to the cabinets to make the warm milk for you.

you watch as han worked quickly and with ease, heating up the milk and pouring it into a mug he bought for you on your first date with him.

he placed the warm milk in front of you and sits in the stool next to you, his body turned so he was facing you.

“drink up, slowly now..”

he watched you drank the warm milk with a small and reassuring smile on his face. he reached out and places a hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze.

“do you feel better, at least a little?”

you nod and place the now empty glass in front of you. he smiles once seeing you finish it, but notices that you weren't saying anything.

he looked you over and saw tears starting to well up in your eyes again. he sighs and gives you a look filled with melancholy.

"you know that that nightmare wasn't real, right? i would never tell you to leave.. or yell at you at matter.”

you nod, but the vivid memory of han screaming at you was still clear as day in your mind, and so you started to sob even more.

he watched as your eyes slowly met his as he gently held your face. he looked at you with sad eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

“are you scared of losing me or something? is that why you're crying?”

you slowly nod as tears continued to flow down your cheeks. your cheeks felt warm and you had tears all over the sleeve of your hoodie.

han tutted softly and leaned in closer so that your faces were now inches apart.

“oh baby.. i would never want to lose you. you know that, right? i would never want you to go and i’m not going anywhere, love. don’t cry..”

his shirt was now damp but he didn’t care. he continued to rub your back, gently rocking you back and forth, his chin resting on the top of your head. he was trying to soothe you with his comforting and warm words, not knowing what else to do to stop your tears.

“you know what?”

he says, suddenly standing up. his arms snaked around your waist. he started to sway, side to side, to and fro, with only the refrigerator light for you to see, the only music being the hum of the heater and the passing cars.

your arms find themselves around his neck. he smiles tiredly, and you rest your head on his shoulder as you two slow danced.

he lifts your chin and looks you in the eye.

“you good, baby?”

when you nod, he smiles softly, and continues swaying. it was quiet. but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was actually quite nice. just him and you, in the kitchen, slow dancing at three in the morning. he burrows his face in the crook of your neck, leaving feathery kisses every so often.

he hums, the vibration from his throat sending a shiver down your spine. he was definitely tired. but he wasn't going to go back to sleep until you were in the bed with him again.

he pulls away for a moment, lifting your chin once more. he cups your cheek, and kisses your forehead gently.

“baby, c’mon. let’s go back to bed.”

he groans quietly, he wanted to go back to bed. but he wouldn't force you if you wanted to keep dancing. he continues to sway you to and fro, and he hums again. the melody was soothing, and it was the perfect lullaby to get you tired again. he rubs your back in circles, and nuzzles his face in your neck again

he lifts his head up and looks at you with a smirk plastered on his face. you two lock eyes, and he stares at you with a look of adoration. he then closes his eyes in a tired manner.

“please, let’s go back to bed..”

he murmurs softly, and you sigh, giving in. the thought of a nice warm bed with your boyfriend is just too good to say no to.

you nod and han drags you over to the bedroom.

he holds you close, his head on top of yours as he hums softly. he rubs your back in slow, smooth motions. after a few moments of silence, he whispers.

“did you want to talk about it some more..?”

“no, i’m good now.”

he lets out a soft sigh of relief, continuing to rub your back.

“well... if you ever need anything, just wake me up, yeah? even if it’s four am in the goddamn morning.”

he chuckles softly.

“i’m serious, you can wake me up anytime.”

he shifts a bit so that he's able to press a kiss to the top of your head, his hold on you tightening a little. you sigh and mumble,

“i love you, han.”

he smiles warmly, his heart feeling full.

“i love you too.”

with one hand, he gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up. he kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks and then your lips, each one slow and filled with so much love.

[harryforvogue]

harry and mia blurb. 1.8k. as always, happy reading! based on this message ... from 2021

---

The thud of Harry’s duffel bag dropping onto the floor forces Mia out of her daydreams. She stops staring at him – even though it’s well within her right to as someone so intimately occupied with him – and smiles up at the newest arrival. He’s just stepped out of the bathroom, a hoodie and sweats on, dragging the bag to the end of her bed frame so it’s no longer a tripping hazard. 

Harry’s hair is tied into a bun at the back of his head, but the strands he couldn’t avoid getting wet in the shower frame his face in cute ringlets. Harry loops his work bag over the back of her desk chair and then falls onto her twin XL bed with a grunt. Face first. 

The bed is so small, not just compared to all six feet of Harry, that his arms naturally fall into her lap. He adjusts himself then, wrapping his arms around her waist, shuffling closer to bury his face against her hip. It’s easy to fall back into the rhythm of having Harry in her space, no matter how startling it is to see him only every few months. The excitement doesn’t go away totally, but it dissipates into comfort. Evolves.

Harry sighs deeply. Mia relieves his hair of the tight bun, and then his sigh turns into a very tired hum. 

“Long flight?” Mia whispers. She walks her fingers down his neck and shoulders, pressing the backs of her knuckles into the hard flesh at the top of his spine. Harry groans and drops his shoulders.

“Worked the entire flight. I wanted to sleep,” Harry mutters. He lifts his head up and then flips over, staring at her upside down from where his head rests now in her lap. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mia says softly, smoothing her thumbs over his forehead. “You should get some rest.”

Harry blinks. “No, I’m good. I’ll sleep at the hotel.” With yet another sound that he can’t seem to keep inside of him, he sits up and turns around, wrapping his right arm around her torso. “Come here.”

Mia happily lets him tug her towards him. His kiss is soft, always just a little bit hesitant when they meet after so long. His free hand cups her jaw, fingers curling into her own damp hair. When he pulls back, Mia swears there’s a hint of a smile on his face. The rest of him, though, still looks tired. Even his blinks are slow. 

“You can take my bed, sir,” Mia whispers, leaning in for another kiss. What she really wants to do is kiss him until she’s lost all reason, but she just feels so bad about how tired he looks. “It’s small but it’ll do the job.”

Harry drops his forehead to Mia’s shoulder. She thinks he kisses her collarbone, but she’s not too sure. The kiss is clumsy and not well positioned. Mia throws her arms around his big shoulders and goes back to knuckling at the stiff muscle, smiling when Harry shivers and spreads his large hands over her back.

“Fine,” he decides. Or maybe his body decides. “Just for half an hour.”

“Okay.” She goes to pull away. “I’ve an assignment I’ve been procrastinating anyways.”

Harry’s arms tighten. “No, sleep with me.”

It’s not a question. But it’s not an order either. Mia knows exactly how to tell the difference in tone when the statement from Harry comes as a command versus a suggestion versus – albeit rare – a joke. Right now, it’s a suggestion. He picks his head up and looks at her with his beautiful red rimmed green eyes and his pouty, tired mouth, and his red cheeks, and –

And Mia can’t say no to him.

“Yeah, all right,” she whispers, swallowing. 

Harry scoots back and pulls the duvet away. Before he buries himself into the bed, he tugs his hoodie off, giving Mia a breathtaking view of the smattering of tattoos on his arms and chest. She stops herself for a total of seven seconds before her hands are wandering over his flesh, as if it’s the first time she’s seeing them. Harry doesn’t mind, nor does he pull away. His eyes are closed, hair smushed under his cheek on her pillow. He’s taken the side closest to the wall, but even though he makes himself small, there’s so much of him. To accommodate the lack of space, Mia slinks into the warm bed and huddles close to him.

“Your roommate?” Harry murmurs against Mia’s hair. It’s a bit awkward. There’s a bit of maneuvering, and Mia ends up with her back to his chest. Still, his knees end up at her thighs and he has nowhere to put his other arm except under the pillow. It’ll fall asleep soon and cause discomfort, but Harry seems too tired to care.

“Studying in the library. Then she’s staying at her boyfriend’s dorm.”

“Did you tell her I’d be here?”

“I told her I’d have a guest.”

“Mm.” Harry’s hand slides over Mia’s skin when he snakes under her shirt. She clenches her stomach to prevent laughing out loud or jabbing her elbow into his stomach. “An hour okay? Set an alarm or something.”

“Okay,” Mia says.

She will not.

Maybe Harry will be upset with her when he ends up sleeping for a lot longer, but there’s no way a man can function like this. It’s simply not healthy. And it digs into their time together, but if Mia’s totally honest, she’s fine with just this. She’s missed Harry so much. It’s nice to be close to him, to feel his warmth against her back, his heavy arm over her waist. His presence is good for her.

Harry is out within seconds. His breathing evens before Mia actually gets comfortable.

Stupid man, Mia thinks. He overworks himself too much.

–

Later, when two and a half hours have gone by and Mia’s working on her assignment on her desk, she peeks over at him. He’s still fast asleep and hasn’t moved since he first laid down, arms where they would be if Mia was still cuddled up against him. But it’s eight p.m. now and though Harry needs the sleep, he won’t be able to rest again if he goes back to the hotel. It’ll start an annoying cycle of sleeping at the wrong hours.

He looks beautiful tucked into her ridiculously small bed. All pale skin and dark tattoos. Dark hair. She’s so happy she gets to see him in his most vulnerable state. 

Mia stands and shuffles closer. In her heart, she doesn’t want to wake him up. She leans on the mattress on her knees and carefully shakes him. “Hey. Sir, wake up.”

It takes a while to get him to give her a grunt, but when he does, he glances outside sharply and sighs at the dark night. His eyelashes stick together and there’s an imprint of her pillow’s folded edge right under his left eye.

“Amelia…”

“I know. You said to wake you up, but you looked so tired. I couldn't.”

He smells like sleep, like warmth. Mia carefully lowers herself onto him, straddling his hips, balancing herself out with hands rested on his lower stomach. Harry blinks at her a few times and then lazily looks over at his phone. The bright light illuminates his face so she has a perfect view of his furrowed eyebrows. He drops the phone back onto the bed. 

“Don’t you feel so much better?” Mia whispers. 

Harry’s fingers slide under her shirt again, holding her down. “Mhm.”

“You can stay the night, you know?”

Harry shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“You can. It’s my room and I say you can.”

It requires a fair amount of effort, but soon Harry’s sitting up, bleary eyed, rubbing his palms against his eyes. “I can’t,” he says, dropping his hands. “What time is your class tomorrow?”

“11.”

“And it’s done at–?”

“I have two classes. I’ll be done by 3.”

“I’ll pick you up at 3:45. We’ll eat in.”

He goes to move, but Mia’s hands stop him, holding him down. “Sir, you need to rest. I mean it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise, a clear sign that he’s trying to be in charge, but the attempt melts away with his low energy. He puts his hands over hers and leans in for a quick kiss. No arguments after. He rolls her over and then heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

When he returns, she’s still sitting in her bed with her legs criss crossed, staring up at him. Before he goes to grab his bag, he leans down and kisses her hard, fingers curled around her jaw. She eagerly responds, dragging him back down by the collar so that he has to lean his weight on the mattress with a hand splayed on her headboard.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry’s promise is firm and resolute.He kisses her again. Pulls away. Thinks for a moment, and then kisses her once more. “It’s so very good to see you, Amelia.”

Butterflies erupt everywhere in her body. She follows his lips with her own, crawling closer when he goes to move away. “Come on. Please stay, sir.” She pouts. “You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor or even my roommate’s bed.” Neither of them are her first choice, but whatever. 

Harry’s answer is a quick shake of his head. “Thank you,” he murmurs, thumbing over her mouth. “But, honestly, Amelia, the issue isn’t that.” A quick upwards turn of his lips and then – “My back will kill me tomorrow if I sleep in your bed overnight.”

Mia gapes at him as he moves to grab his work bag. “You’re such an elitist!” she whisper-shouts. “My twin XL bed wasn’t cheap! I paid for it in my room and board fees!”

Harry hums with a bigger smile on his face. “Tomorrow, 3:45. I’m going to be at your door, got it?”

“If you hate my mattress so much, why don’t you buy me a new one!”

“We’re going to my hotel and we’re going to have dinner–” he says slowly.

“And why don’t you complain to the college while you’re at it!”

“And we’ll open a bottle of wine and maybe take a bath, have dessert–” Harry comes closer, a fire in his tired eyes.

“You have no right to complain considering you just hogged my blankets for two freaking hours!”

“--and I’m finally, finally,” Harry murmurs, reaching for her jaw to shut her mouth, “going to show you how much I fucking missed you.”

Mia stops. She puts down the pillow she grabbed in her frustration to hurl at him. “Oh. Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry says, amused, searching her face.

“Uh huh.”

“Good.” Harry drops his hand and lays an innocent kiss to her cheek. It seems like a reward. “Now.” He goes for the door. “Tomorrow. I’ll see you.”

“Um.”

“Goodnight.”

Mia sits there and blinks.

“Wait!” She scrambles off the bed, running to the door. “You can’t just say that and leave! Hey!” The door shuts behind Harry, but she can hear him quietly laughing. “You can’t just leave now!”

[st4ytiny]

Mirror sex with wooyoung? Him being really chatty and lowkey a brat as he teases the reader to look into the mirror?

I can't get that picture of wooyoung out of my damn mind.

Mentions of manhandling, bratty Wooyoung, Switch Wooyoung / swtich reader, teasing, cursing, hairpulling, choking, feral Wooyoung, bruising/marking, limit pushing, mirror sex, PWOP, tiny mention of his lip bleeding?

No gender or bodyparts specified either.

•───────•°•❀•°•──────•

Brat Wooyoung who pushes all your buttons and won't ever shut up unless you gag him. He's a fucking freak. No matter who you are, he will tease you by saying shit like "Oh (Name)? Can't you even dom me properly?" or "Do I really have to do it myself?". Except he does know that he cannot do it himself because last time that happened, he started sobbing halfway and begged you to do it instead. (That was probably the only time he ever gave up his bratty act without you doing anything)

Brat Wooyoung who loves it when you tell him to fuck you himself. This man growels. He is the biggest switch ever so he won't say no to a challange. Everytime he fucks you, it starts off with you on your back, usually in missionary. He LOVES manhandling, bending and stretching you into all kinds of positions. He has the audacity to act like a dom until you draw the line, wrapping a hand around his throat and he backs down immediately.

Brat Wooyoung who doesn't give one fuck about the curses and complaints falling from your lips. He knows you know your safeword and that you aren't afraid to use it.

Brat Wooyoung who has you on all fours then pressing your chest into the mattress. Fucking into you harder and pulling your hair, forcing your head up to make eye-contact with yourself in the mirror. He's biting his own lip so hard, it's almost bleeding before his eyes roll back into his skull. Lewd moans and words spilling from his mouth. He loosens his grip on your hair, focusing on your hips, making sure to reach all the delicious spots in you.

"Oh (Name)〜 Come on pretty, look into the mirror for me. Look how good you look all tangled up with me"

His annoyingly sexy voice whispers into your ear as his lips place open-mouthed kisses behind your ear. You curse while moans contionue falling from your lips. Wooyoung knows exactly how to tease and rile you up. It feels so good it almost hurts. He roughly pulls your hair back, making you have eye-contact with your reflection and you bite your lip in response. Your eyes dart up to Wooyoung's fucked out expression. His jaw is clenched, eyes dazy, brows furrowed and he has a hand gripping your hip so hard its about to bruise. Your eyes trail down the marks he has left on you.

Songs I listened to while writing

BTBT - B.I 〜 GIVEN-TAKEN - ENHYPEN 〜 DRUNK-DAZED - ENHYPEN 〜 CRIMINAL - TAEMIN 〜 LOVE KILLA - MONSTA X

[rollingeevee]

You mentioned that a darling has little chance of escaping, but little does not exactly imply none at all.

If so, in what scenario does a darling have any, even a little bit chance of escaping a Beast? If there is truly none, is there possibly a way to at least gain some sort of control or set proper boundaries?

The only chance of escape isn’t even really… escape. As stated previously, the bond forced by a claiming bite from a Beast will always incapacitate a darling when they’re trying to run and always guide the Beast to their darling. No matter where they are, how far or how long they have run, the Beast will know where they are, and could retrieve them at any moment they desired. Shadow Milk especially loves to play around with this. He’s a trickster who loves to play games and fuck with the minds and perceptions of others. Perhaps you find a new attempt to escape, and you take it. You run and run as far and fast as you can, and while the bite stings, it’s bearable. Perhaps you flee to another continent. You reunite with your family. You settle back into your normal life. And as time passes, the bite’s pain dulls and dulls until it’s not there anymore. It seemed the effects wore off. You’re free! You’ve done it!

What you don’t know is that it was all orchestrated by Shadow Milk Cookie. He purposely created an opening for you to escape and dulled the effects of the bite as you ran. He knows exactly where you are, and he’s been watching you… Luring you into a false sense of security, allowing you to rebuild your confidence, to get a taste of the freedom you’d lost! All so he can enjoy the expression of despair on your face to the fullest when he rips it all away from you. Oh, you thought you’d actually gotten away? That he would never find you? Tsk tsk tsk… Oh, you silly silly itty bitty mousey dear~ He just wanted to permanently break your spirit and make you realize that you’re his, now and forever~

I went off on a tangent there- other than that, the only other means would be… by the Beast letting you go. If, for some reason or another, they no longer wish for you to be their darling, they’ll remove their bite and, in a rare show of mercy, let you go. Don’t count on this ever happening though. You’re more likely to be rescued by a Witch than you are to be set free. While Beasts are capable of being impulsive, they take claiming a darling with their bite rather seriously. A cookie has to catch their attention and then keep it for a decent amount of time before they even consider biting. Throughout this time, they observe. They test. They challenge. Are you truly deserving of their bite? Because oh yes, they view it as a privilege to be bit by them. It’s only after their interest has been solidified and then begins to spiral into obsession that they feel the desire and the need to claim through a bite. Given all that, to say the likelihood of them letting a darling go once they’ve claimed them is nonexistent is a bit of an understatement-

——

For the second part of your question, setting boundaries is a challenge and requires patience. Really, the only way to gain some semblance of control and be able to set boundaries is to return affection to the Beast and build a mutual bond. When a darling is unwilling, rebellious, and the only thing tying them to their Beast is the bite, the bond can be viewed more as parasitic in a way, and primarily exists out of obsession. Not only that, but the more you fight, the more power and control a Beast is likely to exert over you. If you begin to return affection, either through stockholm syndrome and as a means to survive or out of genuine love, a Beast will slowly become more willing to be cooperative, just as their darling is. When this stage is reached, boundaries can begin to be set. However, it’s less of you putting your foot down and more negotiating with your Beast to be allowed a lil more breathing room.