#like i think we disagree in some minor ways that Do Not Matter but I do agree thay people are unnecessarily weird abt the money thing

[princehendir]

hi! I'm actually that Goldanna anon (you don't have to answer if this is bothering you, I just happen to follow both blogs), and I feel like I must have worded something wrong? Because I wasn't trying to justify Goldanna's attitude or imply she didn't do anything wrong - just that I understood her ic reason for not wanting to see him. A lot of the hate for her I've seen through the years was over her asking him for money, and that was the primary aspect I was trying to address. Again, sorry if this is bothersome, I would have just ignored it but when that ask was interpreted as 'justifying calling him a rape baby', I really just wanted to clear the air because I really wasn't trying to go that far or imply that that was ok.

Ah. Hi. Not bothersome. I kinda want to apologize now actually 😭 I was actually logging back in just to change my phrasing because I was regretting it, but also for the record that part wasn't about your ask it was about um, other, worse takes I've seen. In fact most of the irritated vagueblogs preceding this were not so much about your ask specifically as they were about my pre-existing, wider reaching irritation with other people's takes that I remembered and started thinking about after reading your ask, which I did agree with the main point of. Your wording was fine, even in the places where we disagree. Sorry 'bout all that. Hope you're having a good evening 🙏

[eddiesghxst]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU

credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

[whore4gwen]

Re8 Women dating HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, & Mother Miranda

WLW

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Tags: Light talks of manipulation, narcissism, and sadism, mental health issues, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, possessiveness, slightly unhinged behavior, MY personal head cannons, very slight suggestiveness, Mirandas fucking God complex, isolation, religious elements, cuddling, poor perception of love, & tax evasion.

A/N: Im working on sm things rn it’s not even funny. Despite that, I desperately wanted to post something, so here’s some of my hc. No these are not all my hcs, these are just some of the REALISTIC ones I have. These are based on my own personal perception of these fictional characters. You are welcome to disagree with anything I write, but you’re not welcome to harass me about it. Please keep negativity to yourselfs. Anyways, please enjoy!

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Alcina:

-It’s not that Lady Dimitrescu is incapable of loving another, I just think it’s the way she would love.

-Carnal, possessive, dangerous, a little crazed even. Nothing about the lady’s love is sensual or soft. She’s powerful, domineering, and boy does she relish in it. Of course she’s aware of all the things she could do, all the things you’d let her do. So willing, so compliant, so easy to control.

-Alcina is a narcissist through and through. You will bend to her will, to her every need. You’re hers, after all. (We still love you thou)

-I feel like her love is very incessant, very smothering for lack of better words. She’s not exactly clingy, but she needs you around, she needs to feel your presence.

-Always, and I mean always watching you. Nothing you do will go past her. She needs to know exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times.

-A bit emotionally manipulative. Of course she doesn’t see it that way, she just wants everything to go her way. What’s so wrong with that?

-I think for the most part she’s a little self aware about her flaws and what not, but I wouldn’t say this with 100% certainty. A big part of her doesn’t really see a problem with the way she is. It’s absolutely normal.

-But to be fair, it’s not like anyone would call her out.. so🤷🏻‍♀️

-Pet names pet names pet names. Alcina absolutely adores them. She only really uses your names unless she’s really pissed. In that case, run.

Donna:

-Shy. So incredibly so that you don’t hear her voice till weeks after working for her. And the way your jaw fell to the ground when you heard it had Angie belly laughing on the ground. If it wasn’t for her, you thought maybe you were hearing things.

-Forgets to eat often. She gets so preoccupied with her dolls, she doesn’t always take the best care of herself. So make sure you remind her to eat:(

-It’ll take AGES to get Donna there, but when you do, she is nothing short of the wait. Very passionate, and a little unhinged.

-Like Alcina, she’s a bit possessive.

-She finally found someone she was comfortable with showing her scare, you’re not going anywhere. You belong to her and that’s final. You’re literally stuck, so get comfortable.

-Values your opinion over everything. Her cooking, her sewing skills, her Garden. Donna swoons at praise. A light pink dusting her cheeks any time you compliment her, no matter how minor.

-Poor Donna has been alone for quite some time now. Touch starved as well as touch repulsed. Have fun with that :)

- Canonically, Donna has really bad mental health issues, which causes her to lash out and make rash decisions. She’s not abusive by any means, just a lot to handle.

-She gets into her own head a lot. Constantly convincing herself none of this is real. That one day she’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.

-I know she has manic episodes. Cannot convince me otherwise. Before you, they were almost unmanageable. Your first experience dealing with Donna during one terrified you. You were so worried about Donna, you had no idea what was happening.

-You tried desperately to comfort her. Unfortunately the voices were stronger than your weak attempts.

-After a while, she finally calmed down and explained that catastrophe as best as she could without scaring you off.

-At first Donna didn’t really understand the purpose of cuddling. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she was just truly confused. After having the significance of cuddling explained to her, she fell in love with it.

-Unironically, she’s the big spoon. She loves holding you, making sure you’re safe in her arms. Now, it’s the only way she can fall asleep.

Miranda:

-This bitch is so crazy.

-All shits and giggles aside, this woman is absolutely sadistic.

-Mind games are inevitable. Especially if she’s truly in love with you, in her dark and twisted way.

-Possessive asf.

-Did I already say possessive?

-Miranda is definitely stingy and will isolate you from your friends/family. Why do you need them when you have her? She’s your Goddess, she’s all you need. Never mind everyone else.

-Definitely the type to tell you to take a nap if you ever say you’re tired of her shit.

-You’re not going anywhere. Nice try, but no.

-I know this is obvious, but her God complex is really top tier. I mean seriously.

-Absolutely loves being worshipped, and not just in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. She wants to be put first, she wants to be your number one priority, your Goddess, your everything.

-She will find a way to incorporate her status & power in everything she does.

-She loves you, but you must always remember your place, under her. Figuratively and literally.

-Despite her cut off personality, she’s definitely a cuddlier. Especially after a long day of failed experiments and aggravating meetings.

-Like Donna, Miranda has been alone for almost a century. She’s so damn touch starved yet also incredibly touch repulsed at the same time. Have fun coping.

-Of course she threatened you if you ever told anyone thou. I mean can you imagine THE Mother Miranda being spooned? Imagine what the public would say.

-Fucking tax evader.

-After she gets Eva back, successfully, she lessens up, but only a bit. Like Alcina, she is the way she is and she doesn’t really see the problem with it.

I want all three of them so badly.

[sorcerous-caress]

Hello!! I love your writing 😍 Would it be okay if you wrote Karlach, Lae'zel and whomever you wish with a tiefling!Tav that loses both a horn and an eye during a battle and can't quite find balance in their fighting afterwards bc of it?

Reacting to Tav losing a horn/eye

[Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, nb!reader, Tiefling!reader]

[Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Halsin]

Karlach

She swears she can still hear it, your agonised scream, the splatter of blood, the crunch of bone being torn apart.

As if the world slowed down for a moment, an eerie quietness surrounding the battlefield for the uncomfortable stretched out seconds. Your companions turning to look at you, clutching your eye with your back hunched.

Dread filled her stomach, one of your horns laid on the bloody floor next to your feet.

She doesn't remember the rest. Only when she stood atop the burnt rubble of what used to be the battlefield, did the all-consuming rage fade away from her mind.

Karlach is immediately at your side after, apologising for not being there sooner.

She's by your side as you heal, making sure to bring you anything you might need. As your struggles to adjust to combat again in the aftermath become more and more evadint, she is one of the first people to suggest fully leaving combat to her.

Yes, you are capable. Yes, she has seen how strong you are. But sometimes life just doesn't go the way we plan it. You can relay on her instead.

You don't have to go back to the cruel world. You can let her take care of it. Karlach really can't afford losing you. She'd claw her way up the heavens and steal you away if your fate took a turn to the worse.

Laezel

She completely disagrees with Karlach. This is nothing but a minor setback if anything. Laezel completely has faith in you to relearn how to find your balance, and she'll teach you if she has to.

As long as you can still stand on your feet and carry a sword, then you can fight in her eyes. She will give her sincere apologies for letting you down in battle and not doing something before enemeis got the chance to best you, but besides it, you'll get no pity from her.

Why is everyone acting as if you died? You're clearly still the same strong and capable person she knows. If anything, each scar is evidence of how your enemies' failure to put you down, you should show your broken horn with pride.

She has enough self awareness not to impose her views on you, no matter how much she thinks her companions are being dramatic and oversensitive, is she noticed you being fully uncomfortable with her approach she will take her leave from your bedside.

But you got fed up with people infantlising you, then she will be the first to 6pull you back into an intense daily training routine until you regain your footing.

Wyll

While Karlach and Laezel were too busy arguing about your own fate, Wyll was there for you throughout every stage of healing. He knows what it's it like losing an eye. He can relate to the horror and dissociation that happens whenever you look at the mirror to see a piece of yourself missing.

He still hasn't gotten used to his own horns himself, and losing one of yours must have been painful to bear. He will stay by your side until you feel better, no pressure to discuss the future or your fighting abilities or anything.

Wyll will make sure you don't feel alone, that the dark thoughts don't consume you too much. Share you worries with him, let him help carry your burdens, please. It kills him seeing someone so dear to him suffer when he can't do anything or help.

Halsin

His heart breaks, seeing you coming back to camp limbing and bloodied that day. He prays to Silvanus to ease your pain as he takes shift with Shadowheart to nurse you back to health with healing spells.

Nature can be so unforgiving sometimes, to some animals, losing an eye or horn can be a death sentence.

But he has seen even the most withered of plants suddenly flourish and regain their strength, he has personally stayed up countless nights to care for the weak kittens that their mother refused to even acknowledge.

He has seen them grow, nurtured them into a strong healthy state.

Don't surrendered to the darkness, when the abyss starts whispering about how this is your end and how your potential was wasted you yell at the abyss, bite, claw and fight your way out of this rut.

True strength lies in the heart, give yourself time to rest, and don't rush your healing. Eventually, you'll be back on your own two feet with a new view on the world before you can realise it.

[tragicdruid]

Angst with Scara please, using this line!

“Is it too hard to love me back?”

Lost Love (1)

Pairings: Scaramouche x Reader

Contains: Angst no comfort (?), established relationship, break up, minor Archon quest spoiler

Word Count: 600+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Scaramouche was different now -- or perhaps he had always been this way. Ever since he'd successfully taken the electro gnosis, his mind has been dead set on a singular goal; becoming a God. Everything else had fallen to the wayside. He abandoned the Fatui and, in some ways, it feels as if he's abandoned you.

You were still at his side during this venture, following him loyally as a lover should. But love...it felt as if it was slipping through your fingertips. So focused on godhood, it was as if he'd forgotten you. Or rather, you were no longer of any importance. He cared more about a single worshiper than he did his lover. At least, that's what it felt like.

As you stand in the Joururi workshop, staring up at the giant mechanism that Scaramouche is attached to from within, your expression becomes pensive.

"Is this really what you want?" You ask, head tilting as your eyes search for his visage behind the combination of intricate metals. When was the last time you saw his face? Felt his touch? Weeks? Months?

"What kind of question is that? Of course it is." His voice echoes out into the space, full of disdain and judgement. As if you were nothing more than a dog.

In truth, you missed him. It was as simple as that. Sure, you were in the same space, but things were different now. It wasn't as if the two of you had a normal relationship to begin with, but it feels as if the fragile thread that connected you both was on the verge of breaking. And it's not like you weren't supportive of his plans. You just wonder if the consequences were worth it.

"Well...once you become a God, where does that leave us?" You hope that there will still be an us.

Contemptuous laughter fills the space and you feel your stomach drop. "What do you think? You will worship me like everyone else," he sneers, and you can practically feel his cold gaze through the machine.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," you reply quickly, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown. "You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"

You earn a scoff of disbelief before he chuckles coolly. "Love? Is that what you thought it was? Mortals are so simpleminded."

Your chest clenches at his words, wanting to believe that he's just being disagreeable to irritate you, as he often did. The power must be getting to his head.

"Yes, love. Aren't we enough? You don't have to do all this to prove yourself."

"Hah, I don't need to prove myself. This is my birthright. If you think I'm going to stop just because you think you're special, think again."

Immediately, tears begin to well in your eyes as your voice gets caught in your throat. You want to argue like you always do, but you know this is different.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Scaramouche was always one to twist the knife, but you had hoped that he wouldn't be so cruel to you.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you blink away your tears and glare at the mechanism that was to be his new form. "I guess we're done then," you mutter bitterly, turning your back to him.

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings? You'll come running back like you always do."

His taunting laughter fills the chamber as you walk away. You don't come back.

--------🍃

A Wanderer walks alone through the marketplace. You pass him with groceries in hand, your scent familiar and expression serene. He is unfamiliar to you, but as your eyes meet, you catch a glimpse of yearning in those stunning indigo orbs. The stranger tilts his head downward, the rim of his hat blocking your view as he continues on his path.

Pausing for a moment, you turn your head to stare at the stranger's back. With a shrug, you return home, wondering why that wanderer looked at you with something akin to love.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[edenfenixblogs]

I think that I’ve realized one of the big reasons that antisemites are so anti-Israel—I mean, aside from it being a state where a lot of Jews are.

Israel is a state that protects Jews. It also does a lot of bad things under the Likud government. And it also harms Jews that get in the way of the Likud government. But none of that matters to antisemites.

Because a state is an institution. And the left has been very clear that it’s all about criticizing institutions.

And in the absence of a governing religious body to criticize, the Israeli state is all the leftist antisemites have to criticize.

They can’t seem to fathom that the leadership of Israel is not in anyway synonymous with a religious institution. They cannot seem to fathom that the Likud government isn’t in any way representative of Jewish people as a whole—and not even of Israelis as a whole! (Once again, Israel is a parliamentary system. It’s about who has the largest proportion of votes, not a majority) and that Jews in Israel as well as non-Jews in Israel have a say in who to vote for and often strongly oppose Likud and Netanyahu.

It’s like a whole chunk of otherwise progressive people have been waiting for a way to criticize all Jews by attacking some institution they think speaks for us.

They cannot fathom that we are literally just a small ethnic group with half of our number in one location and would very much like for us and for them to not be victims of violence. That’s the uniting principle.

They’ve continually demonstrated how little they know and understand about Judaism, Jewish culture, and Jewish history.

I genuinely do not know if they’re aware that there’s no supreme Jewish council or whatever. There’s no Jewish version of the Grand Imam, Grand Ayatollah, Dalai Lama, Celestial Master, or Head/President of the Church.

We don’t even have a main synagogue from which edicts or traditions flow. We did have one. The Wall in Israel was our main institution. But colonizers and invaders destroyed it. And other religions built their institutions on top of it. And the religious governing body of Jews fell apart thousands of years ago.

…so the only thing that holds us together is each other. Rabbis don’t answer to some central authority. We hold traditions together through culture and traditions and connection to our land of origin, like many our even most other indigenous cultures.

But, because there is one (1) place on the entire planet where Jews are a majority of the population and not a minority, suddenly vicious attacks on the character of Jews everywhere are fair game as long as antisemites pretend they are talking about “Israel.” But they aren’t talking about the State of Israel. Because they get mad whenever we tell them to please specify the current government and the Likud party, because they are the ones responsible for carrying out the needless violence.

But they won’t do that. They seem to believe that there is some uniting religious force that exists in the Israeli government. And they seem to think that we are all united by this religious directive of “Zionism.”

That’s the only way any of their criticisms make sense logically. They don’t see themselves as attacking actual humans. They see themselves as attacking institutions. And any Jew who disagrees with them? Well they are just bastards supporting the institution.

But…there is no supreme Jewish institution. It doesn’t exist. It doesn’t exist because they destroyed those institutions.

They’re making themselves feel good by thinking attacking Jews is somehow helping free Palestine. But it’s just attacking Jews.

It’s like a weird continuation of supercessionism. They’re projecting their religious structure onto a religion that is fundamentally incompatible with that structure.

[mssr-crumpled-paper]

Gale and the Unperfect Victim

Here I am, back again with Gale posting cause I still have more thoughts on him as a character.

So, today, I read the phrase "the perfect victim" which is a myth often used to discredit the experience of female victims of SA, to dictate a way that victims of violence/assault are "supposed" to act. And when i tell you the concept of a perfect victim to anything immediately made me think of Gale, as well as the state of colonial resistance at large.

I'd like to preface with the idea that there is no "perfect victim" to any systemic crimes perpetuated. There is no one acceptable way of acting or responding to oppression or violence. With that out of the way let's get into the Gale analysis.

I often see people talk about Gale in this specific formula:

"I still don't like Gale as a character. His anger is understandable but [insert violent response to state sanctioned violence here].

There always seems to be such a conditional in the people's eyes of what is and isn't justifiable violence or resistance. To what means is a war just is one of the central themes of THG (or at least I believe so anyways).

Now this question raises a really interesting point about Gale's character. Obviously, Gale is meant to represent the other end of the extremist spectrum: kill all Capitol people indiscriminately, no matter their disposition and beliefs or levels of innocence; take down the Capitol at all cost.

This, coupled with the fact that Peeta represents the other end of the spectrum (do the right thing and hold onto conscience, choosing humanity for all ends) might present Gale as a heartless, cold killer.

Here we meet the instance of a "perfect victim." Subjected to seemingly relatively the same levels of oppression (some would even argue that Peeta suffered more), Peeta still continuously chooses to pacify. He represents conscience, which manifests in the way that he is soft spoken, generally kind/compassionate, white, blond, merchant's kid, unquestioningly devout, barely ever angry. Do you hear it? The sounds of a perfect victim, someone you're supposed to feel bad for because he didn't deserve any of this.

This view is revoked from Gale, someone who's fought, hunt, and kill all his life. Angry, harsh, not as well-spoken or charismatic, a possessive weirdo sometimes, and violent. His response to violence is almost always with anger, with the biting of the tongue until it bleeds, and then it explodes in everyone's face. "Gale is understandable, but..."

It makes me wonder how much compassion and understanding and help we can truly extend to a person who doesn't respond to violence the way he's supposed to. When they don't lay down and take it, or brood in angry silence, or extend a gracious forgiving hand. People would say he lacks humanity or compassion but I would wholeheartedly disagree. His dedication to his people, to his family, to his friends, to Katniss has manifested into anger and hatred for an imperial machine that has never cared if he died or lived.

I find it funny that somehow, this is always a trait demanded to be fixed by the oppressed. Even in post-war, post-apocalyptic movies where previous minority groups establish a closed community that's hostile to outsiders, that's a moral failing on their part. It fails completely to view the responsibility of the Capitol people, whose true extent of innocence can be argued against (how innocent are you really, when you're an exploitative force actively participating in the deaths and oppression of the lower colony-like districts).

Which then leads me to the posts I've been seeing about Palestine. So much focus on constant martyrdom, which is so important. SO important. But why are we turning our eyes away from their resistance? The truth of it is gratuitous violence is not their first choice, and resistance is always so ugly. We distance ourselves away from the violence to excuse ourselves of the need to have to justify the means to life of an entire people.

"By what standard of morality can the violence used by a slave to break his chains be considered the same as the violence of a slave master?” - Walter Rodney

Do I agree with everything Gale does? No. I won't attempt to justify his notions of violence, but I will beg you to situate them within the asymmetrical power context in which they’re committed.

[crayonbunnyagere]

Big long ramble about some stuff below. TLDR of it is “I think we should make this community a SFW 18+ one, instead of just a SFW one.”

Yesterday’s ask has had me thinking a bit about the age regression community, and how there does appear to be a fair amount of minors in it. This is something that makes me a bit concerned for their safety. Simply put, no matter how much you argue it isn’t, we have to acknowledge that this community, the agere community, isn’t that far from the AB/DL community. For those unaware, that community is made up of people who are either Adult Babies (the AB portion, made up of people who are also age regressors, but also age players, and caregivers), Diaper Lovers (the DL portion, made up of people who love to wear diapers, either for sexual or non sexual reasons), a bit of both AB and DL. Now the AB/DL community is a kink community, and thus it only allows people who are 18 or older. Despite this, as with any kink, it can be sexual or nonsexual. There is a not so insignificant portion of the AB/DL community who are fully non sexual age regressors who are fully SFW people. But because they identify with a kink community and identity, any space they run is 18+ only, once again highlighting the Adult part of Adult Baby. Now, personally, I don’t like interacting with minors, in fact I prefer the people i interact with personally be at least 21 nowadays, as i feel teenagers, even 18 and 19 year olds, aren’t mature enough. This is a personal preference based off of my own lived experience, and because of it, i had decided a few years ago to make my personal social media accounts 18+ pages. I also wanted to make more mature art at the time (I’m an artist irl), so i felt it was also worth removing those under 18 so I could explore more mature and personal topics. When making this account, @crayonbunnyagere, i had very simple plans for it. I would model it after agre blogs on this platform, tumblr, but content wise it would basically be an art blog with occasional posts of gif sets from movies and shows i saw as a kid. It would evolve with some encouragement from my therapist, and become more blog like, with some occasional posts like the Bunny posts. Whenever i do something like go to build-a-bear or i do something like play with play dough, i would post here. Furthermore i decided to expand Crayon Bunny to Bluesky and Twitter. On those platforms I noticed the agere community is SFW, but many accounts are 18+, and I felt like on those platforms, the agere community is much closer to the AB/DL community than it is here. As such, I felt it made sense to make my agere spaces 18+ too, and honestly, I’m wondering if the community in general should be 18+. Seeing the first search results and uh…

Yeah… like, i don’t know, it just makes sense to me, to make this space 18+. I don’t really know, like, can i get some other opinions on this? Do y’all agree? Disagree? Why do you feel that way?

[saltywinteradult]

What I hate most about the last Rhaenicent scene is how holier than thou Rhaenyra is shown to be, the writers aren't even trying to hide their bias.

In the first season they told us Alicent's evil for putting a child abusing rapist on the throne rather than their Mary Sue who's so perfect she won't even order Vaemond Velaryon's execution.

Then in the second season they have Alicent become a pathetic cockroach who will hand her son over on a silver platter to save her own skin. It doesn't matter if you see it differently, this was their intention: to show how much better a mother/woman/Queen/ruler/politician Rhaenyra is because she would scream bloody murder if anyone even suggested disowning Jace whilst Alicent doesn't even protest when she demands Aegon's head.

This show is not for Alicent Hightower fans, Rhaenicent as a ship is not for Alicent Hightower fans. I think the sooner we accept this the easier it will be to abandon HotD once and for all.

(I'm going to assume you're the same anon​ who sent me this.)

*Sigh* Okay. I've already said that I think Rhaenicent can't be canon without butchering the characters, like they have now done with Alicent, and therefore it shouldn't happen. Alicent has been made into Rhaenyra's bootlicker and I hate it. I have already said, very clearly, that I agree with all of that.

However, I have also said, very clearly, that I still enjoy Rhaenicent in some ways despite this. So why are you sending me this, anon​? Are you trying to convince me to stop liking the things I still like about Rhaenicent? Are you trying to convince me, an Alicent fan and a Rhaenicent enjoyer, that it's not possible to be both? Because I'm not the only person in this fandom who is both. We're in the minority, but we exist. You are entitled to your opinion that Rhaenicent and HotD are not for Alicent fans, but this Alicent fan has to disagree. It's not for you to decide what is or isn't "for" anyone other than yourself.

I agree that the writers' intention with that awful last scene was to show Rhaenyra in a better light - because that seems to be their intention with just about everything. This is an issue with the entire show, not just Rhaenicent. The whole story has been twisted to fit into a cookie-cutter pseudo-feminist narrative with Rhaenyra as the hero she was never meant to be, and every character, not just Alicent, has suffered for it. (I would argue that Rhaenyra's character has been butchered too. Making her a feminist hero is so much less interesting than she was in the book.) So as it happens, I don't see that differently than you.

But so what if I did? I'm sorry, but what the hell are you trying to say with a statement like "it doesn't matter if you see it differently"? I am allowed to see it however I want. People can and do have different opinions on art than its​ creator, or different opinions than you for that matter. That's literally just how art works.

And not to be blunt, but if you hate the show this much, why are you even here, anon? Are you trying to convince me to stop watching? Because if so, that's really not for you to decide. Why not just stop watching the show yourself and let other people do what they want? Personally, I'm still watching the show because while the writing is shit, I still think the cinematography is gorgeous, the special effects are great, the music is beautiful, the acting is amazing, and the schadenfreude of watching the Targaryens self-destruct spectacularly is as satisfying as ever. I enjoy some aspects of HotD and not others, just as I enjoy some aspects of Rhaenicent and not others.

[dustbunnylair]

More hate is continuing to spread within queer ships, especially within the JJK Fandom (!JJK MANGA SPOILERS!)

As I have shared before in previous posts, within the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom unfortunately a lot of queer ships get hate meanwhile straight ships do not. Personally, I do not care what people ship, as long as it's legal and unproblematic/toxic then it's okay! However, I will hate on someone's ship if they feel the need to disrespect other ships that aren't problematic.

And before anyone says, "Making straight characters gay is problematic!" Technically, yes, you are correct, but it really depends on the situation. For example; if you were to make let's just say Oh Sangwoo from Killing Stalking, a psychological horror manhwa, gay, then yes, it is problematic, because his character is based on the fact that he is straight, hence why if you were to make him gay it removes the point of the story.

However, if it is not a situation similar to Sangwoo if it doesn't change a major plotline or point of the story then it really doesn't matter, hence why it's a headcanon/fanon. Recently in Chapter 267, a "confession" is said by both Megumi and Itadori. Yuji says that if he doesn't have Megumi he will be lonely. Then Megumi said that he dreamt of a life with Yuji, in which the life Megumi describes is peaceful or happy, honestly, I'd compare it to a peaceful morning with an old married couple.

However, since the ship Itafushi, Megumi x Yuji, has risen because of the chapter, the ship has also gotten a lot of hate, and hate that it does not deserve. It's perfectly fine to disagree with the ship or just not ship them, but it's another thing to absolutely hate a ship and disrespect the shippers who aren't sexualizing the characters in any way, shape, or form.

As I have talked about previously in another post, Satosugu, Gojo x Geto, also get this same type of hate. As literally any other queer ship in the JJK fandom. Shipping queer ships isn't abnormal within fandoms, even if it's shounen or not canon, people will still do it, if it's a fetish, then yes it should be looked down upon, but some people, usually other queer people, ship the same genders usually because there's a vibe between those characters, like a "gaydar" going off.

In fact, I actually saw someone compare Itafushi to Goyuu, Gojo x Yuji...

Yeah, let's just soak that in for a minute...

Now let's play a game of spotting the difference between the two ships! Ding! Ding! Ding! That's right, Gojo x Yuji has pedophilia and a 13-year age difference between a student and teacher and Itafushi is legal because they're both minors and the same age!

I swear people who hate on queer ships and then only ship straight ships that (also) don't make sense and quite literally say the same shit queer shippers do when defending their shit of "its fanon", the hypocrisy is going through the roof right now.

Like I personally do not like the ships Sugushoko, Gojohime, Nobara x Yuji/Megumi, etc. but I'm still gonna respect those ships, but if you're disrespecting other ships, I won't respect your ships because of that. I personally think none of the ships I listed make sense, just like how people think Satosugu or Itafushi don't make sense.

At this point, it's not even people shipping queer ships that make the fandom insufferable like many people say, it's the straight ships because people try so hard to say the straight ships *are* canon and are just borderline homophobic towards queer ships.

I honestly just wish we could respect all ships whether they're queer, straight, nonbinary, etc. it really does not affect anyone *that* much. If it were a pro/comship then I'd understand. Satosugu and Itafushi aren't pro/comships, nor are Gojohime, Sugushoko, Nobara x Yuji/Megumi, yk the ones that are legal and not toxic/problematic.

It makes me really upset that literally no one is able to ship normal ships anymore without just getting hate. It makes it to the point where you can't even enjoy JJK, or any anime/manga for that matter.

Sorry for the lame yapping, I'll probably have another debate similar to the Kirara and Hakari post soon. This was just on my chest and as a gay dude who's been in many anime/manga fanbases, whether it's shounen, shojo, etc. it really upsets me seeing that people are getting really judgmental over normal ships.

extra: Sorry I haven't been as active writing silly stuff on things I'm interested in, back in school I've been slightly stressed and don't have time for a lot. This post and some of my other recent previous posts we just silly extras that I just barely managed to post. Unfortunately, since I have been stressed it is taking a slight mental toll on me right now and I've been absolutely exhausted my vertigo is worse and my mind is very fuzzy anymore, I'll be okay dw I just need time to adjust to a somewhat new schedule. I will be trying my best to be active during weekends though.

[transmutationisms]

ive noticed you’re one of the few people who still mentions covid and participates in analyzing ppl’s behavior around it like other social issues and ongoings, outside of a few disability/illness-focused blogs. my friends still mask but I get blank stares from them too when I mention covid. most people are uninformed that covid is still a threat but a fair number of people know covid is still around but still avoid talking about it. i thought maybe this is just how people deal with crisis, by ignoring it/making it a social taboo to mention it, but I’m in the US and when trump was in office everyone talked about trump and the threats (and perceived threats) under trump all the time. they still talk about the trump years. now I have …thoughts on how people talk about trump but not other presidents, but i just mean it as an example of people acknowledging something and not immediately forgetting about it. people do routinely ignore ongoings that don’t immediately effect them, like some groups of people ignoring police brutality for example, but covid does affect them or at the very least affected their life in 2020, no matter how briefly. and of course, many people are talking about current events/historical events or analyzing social phenomena all the time but never mention covid. do you know why that might be? because I feel like im in the twilight zone

i disagree that it never comes up at all; i think what you're picking up on is more that it has become, in many people's minds, so ordinary as to be mostly invisible in the same way as, like, the flu. generally people accept that these illnesses exist but they're seen to be inevitable and minor and thus mostly not worth talking about, save for a few bits of eg health journalism that emphasise individual actions (never political solutions) and maybe a convo about immunisations at a doctor's office for those who can access a doctor. now obviously i don't agree that covid and the flu belong in the same category of seriousness, epidemiologically, but narrativising infectious diseases has always been sociologically much more complex than just accumulating Correct Facts based on Observing The Illness. people will give you even blanker looks if you mention that hiv/aids is ongoing, yet here it is still. our perceptions of public health events (of any events really) are formed in complex ways and it's not a new issue to see that the consensus narrative (esp in an imperialist country pumping out back-to-work propaganda about chronic illness in general and covid complications specifically) doesn't match up with what data we can collect. im sorry if that sounds bleak but i do think 'public opinion' in this case and in general is more an effect of capitalist policymaking than an independent entity formed by each rational individual entity like, carefully evaluting the evidence and coming to an independent conclusion or whatever

[skzimagines]

Part 16

—————————————————————————————-

Characters: | Obsessive!Hyunjin | Lee know | Female Reader | All of Skz | y/n’s friend. |

Genre: | Polyamory!relationship |

Warnings: | 18+ Minors dni | Smut | swearing | alcohol | threesome activity |

—————————————————————————————

“So what’s up with you and those two?” Ash asks, referring to Minho and Hyunjin. We’re currently spending some quality “girl time.” Since I’ve been wrapped up in boy drama since the beginning of this trip. “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to sound as oblivious as possible. “Everyone has their theories, but to be honest y/n…. Kinda seems like you’re all a thing together.” She says with a chuckle. “Theories, huh?” I ask with a small smile, looking down at my feet. “Nothing bad, just… I find it weird, considering Hyunjin had such an issue with Minho before and then a couple days ago, it’s like now you’re all best friends?” She says in a concerned tone. “It’s nothing, they made up. Shouldn’t that make you all happy?” I say with a small chuckle. “Well of course! But it’s the way they act around you that has all of us in suspension.” She says with a light laugh. “and what if we were all a thing?” I say quietly. “It would make no difference to our friendship at all… you’re my best friend and I’ll support you no matter what.” She says, setting her hand on my shoulder. I look up from my feet and at her face with a smile. “I love them both… I couldn’t chose, so Hyunjin came up with this plan, that we all be together… to see how it goes..” I say quietly. Ash nods her head slowly, trying to wrap her head around everything I just explained. “I mean… it’s different, but if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Ash says, shrugging her shoulders.

•

The talk with ash caused a huge relief inside. Not everyone knows, but it was nice being able to talk to someone understanding outside of Hyunjin and Minho. “So what’s the plan for today?” Ash asks, as we walk through the front door. “No clue.. probably just stay here, swim, go on the boat maybe?” Chan says, setting his dishes into the kitchen sink. Everyone agrees, continuing on with what they were doing before the conversation bloomed. “Actually, I’m thinking about taking you all to myself today.” I suddenly hear hyunjin behind me as he wraps his arms around my stomach from the back. “Oh yeah? And where might we be going?” I ask teasingly. “That, my dear. Is a surprise.” He whispers in my ear, before planting a quick kiss underneath it. A small giggle escapes my lips as he lets go of me and makes his way upstairs. I watch him as he does, and see Minho making his way toward me in the corner of my eye. “Can we talk?” Minho whispers, lightly grabbing my wrist and pulling me outside. “What’s wrong?” I ask, once I hear the door shut behind us. “Nothing is wrong, I just… I was wondering, if maybe you and I could umm.. go out later, Alone?” He says shyly, scratching the back of his neck. My heart sinks, taking in his nervous demeanor, just to have to tell him no because hyunjin already made plans tonight. “Oh.. um, how about tomorrow? Hyunjin has already made plans for us tonight.” I say, as sweetly as I possibly could, trying to be careful not to hurt his ego. “He.. I- oh.” He looks confused. “What’s the matter?” I ask. “Nothing, just… I told him a few minutes ago I was going to ask you out, I asked if it would be okay and he told me yeah.” There was a sudden silence between the two of us. “I’ll talk to him.. what time did you want to go?” I ask. “It’s okay, really. I’ll just umm.. hangout with Ash and Lix tonight.” He says in an upbeat voice, even though I see right through him. I know he’s upset. “Minho.. I’m going to talk to him, be ready by 6.” I say, making my way inside and shutting the door before he can disagree.

•

It’s 4:50pm and I’m sitting in our shared bedroom at the vanity, getting ready for my date with Minho when Hyunjin walks in.

“Well well well, don’t you look like a piece of cake I’d like to eat.” He says, walking up behind me and pressing a kiss to my neck, then another and another, until I feel his tongue press against it. “Eh eh eh, not tonight.” I say, shooing him away. He chuckles while pulling away. “Whats the big event?” He asks, aiming toward me doing my makeup. “I’m going out with Minho.” I state blankly. Hyunjin blinks at me through the mirror. “What?” I ask, knowing all well what the problem was. “Aren’t.. we going out tonight?” He asks, sitting on the bed. “We were… now we’re not.” I say, pulling my hair up into a messy bun. I stand up and head to the closet, searching through my clothes looking for something to wear. “Okay… and why not?” He says with a bit of venom in his voice. “Because.. you knew he was going to ask to be alone, and you went and asked me anyway. Why?” I ask. Finding a sundress, yellow with light pink flowers all over it, not too long, just short enough to bend over in. I pull it out and lay it on the bed next to Hyunjin. “Hmm?” I hum after not getting an answer. Hyunjin groans. “Because! Y/n, I don’t know if I can do this. You were mine to begin with. Everyone knew that, everyone knows how much you mean to me, even him! I did this because I didn’t want to lose you. I was okay with it just being a new sexual, kink, type thing. But now he’s asking you on dates? Wanting to be alone? It’s all getting too real. You’re mine dammit! I shouldn’t have to share you with anyone!” He says. “I had to share you with that girl you brought back to the campsite….” I say angrily. Silence falls around us. “That’s not fair.” He whispers. “Our entire relationship hasn’t been fair hyunjin..” I whisper back. “So.. what are you saying?” He asks, looking down at his hands that are sitting in his lap. “I’m saying.. I’m going out with him, wether you like it or not.” I state, slipping on the sundress and making my way to the door. “Then maybe I should just go out with that girl again.”

“Be my guest.” I say, slamming the door behind me.

____________________________________________________

Tag list: @greysweaters-blog @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan @multeciahucho @poetrycassie @nobody3210 @straykids5star @mabysblog @yaorzu-blog @elizalabs3 @abby-wanna-bangchan

To my tag list: I’m sorry I’ve been inactive for so long. A lot has happened in my life the last year. If you no longer want to be tagged in the story, please let me know and I’ll remove you. I will be working on trying to update the story more often now that my life has kind of whined down. Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏻

Other Chapters here!

[oh-my-damn]

There's something about his facial expressions, his gestures, in his eyes that reflects a kind of sadness, fatigue or even sadness. But - and please don't take this the wrong way - it doesn't necessarily have to do with her. Maybe - and I say maybe - this love is real, maybe it is not.

As for Alba: I don't want to defend anyone who is racist or makes fun of minorities. Absolutely not. I'm just trying to be neutral. She's a young thing and maybe has the wrong friends. We all have or had friends like that at one time or another and we all did things in our 20s that I'm sure were wrong.

But what is fact is that he can't please anyone right now. If he posts his "happiness" it will be torn apart, if he takes some time off it will be torn apart, if an interview of him appears it will be torn apart - everything he says, doesn't say, does or doesn't do will be put on the gold scale and that does something to people. Let's assume that Chris is the sensitive guy we think he is.... His "fans" are currently cyberbullying of the worst kind and it hurts my soul - for him as a human being! He is not stupid and gets the certainly everything somehow with.

What I want to say is: If Chris really loves this woman, then it surely has its reason and then it surely hits him deep in the core when his wife and his love for her are torn apart so much. We don't have to like her - he does.

If it's all just PR after all, then that's his decision too. Right or not.

But I don't think it gives anyone in this world the right to trample so much on one (or two) people as is currently the case.

Hopefully we all know from the many suicides of celebrities how quickly a human soul can be overwhelmed. I ask everyone who reads this, but the next comment or the next post to think about what it might do with the people around it.

How often have others disagreed with your decisions and how would you have felt?

You reap what you sow. If you want pity then don't present yourself as a political activist who cares about minorities and racial/gender issues only for you to go back and marry someone with a clearly racist and even anti-semitic past and ties. Are you forgetting that these people are still actively in her life? And have even stayed at Chris' house, AKA with Chris? Chris is friends with them too. He let them into his house, knowing their history. She describes one of them as her fucking "soulmate". I am certain they were at the wedding. This isn't "the past". This is the present, and no matter how you guys will excuse it with "it was years ago" no it fucking wasn't. They just stopped putting it on the internet for the world to see. Don't you fucking get that? People like that don't change, and if they do, it takes a lot of work and acknowledgement. We have seen NONE of that.

This ask is bullshit. Stop trying to push the blame onto people reacting to this despicable shit that's happening right now. None of this would be happening if he hadn't "fallen in love" with someone who is a fucking racist? Or who is 16 years younger than him?

Him refusing to work on himself and going to therapy at 42 YEARS OF AGE is not my fucking problem. It is not my fault.

I can react how I see fit because I am outraged and disgraced that someone I supported would turn around and do this. It feels misleading, it feels like I dove in head first into supporting this man BASED ON WHAT HE PRESENTED TO THE WORLD and giving him my time and money only for him to pull back the curtain and yell "SIKE!"

Now I just feel ashamed for doing that shit. I hate the fucking Cap shield hanging above my TV now because none of it seems genuine or pure or lovely anymore.

It's all gross and tainted and disgusting and laced with shit I want nowhere near me.

We have every right to be angry.

What he does is up to him, but he put himself in this situation. He chose that person and he chose that person over and over again, pushing it out into the world KNOWING how people felt about it.

He's made his bed and it's time to fucking lie in it.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hi hi!

I saw you open for request and I want to drop something for our donut/ mochi man kata.

We all know his scarf in the anime but how did he get it? So I was thinking if you could maaaaaybe make something that his girlfriend gave it to him, seeing how his Former one being >loved<, but is between happy and sad.

Sad, that He has to hide his face but happy, knowing she is the only one allowed to see?

That would be so sweet 🥰🥰

Yes, I'm still currently open for requests. As a note, there is a bit of crack/comedy towards the end. I thought it would be fun and it would tie up the ending nicely. I hope it's okay.

Warnings: WCI spoilers, Brulee getting hurt, minor crack

Word Count: 1220

     It had been years ago that he’d first put the scarf on, so long that most people didn’t remember what he looked like under it. Some of the few people who remembered were Brulee, Oven, Daifuku, and Perospero. There were a few others in his family that remembered, but not many. There was, however, one person outside his family that remembered what he looked like. A little girl, about his age, who’d had a crush on him. Most people mocked him for his ‘eel-like’ mouth. His mouth that could stretch, his sharp teeth and scars. But he hadn’t cared, hadn’t cared until they’d hurt Brulee. The bullies had gotten revenge on him by hurting his sister.

     Running up to a young, 9-year-old Katakuri, you smiled. As with every morning, you held out a box of homemade donuts for him. Your parents ran a bakery so every morning, no matter what the day looked like, you would give him a box of 6 donuts. It’s how the two of you had met. He’d heard of your parents’ bakery and decided to see what all the hype was about. It had been well worth the trip, finding that the donuts were some of the most delicious he’d ever had. When he’d walked up to the counter to tell your parents, they’d just smiled and called you in. It had been your first ever batch. Granted, you’d gotten a lot of help from your parents in making the dough, shaping it correctly and, of course, frying it, but you’d still been so proud of yourself. Being so young, you hadn’t cared what he looked like as you ran over and hugged him. You’d been 7 and he’d been 8. From that day on, he visited as often as possible until you started bringing them to him every morning. But more importantly, you were always the one who’d made the ones he ate.

     Whenever he was free, he spent time with you. As the second son of Big Mom, there were certain expectations of him, but he saw you as often as possible. You’d also gotten to know his little sister, Brulee. You loved the little girl, often hugging her whenever you saw her. Your crush on him grew and grew, even as a little girl, finding that he was particularly kind to you. While he could be cold or even mean to others, he was always kind to you. When you’d heard about what had happened to Brulee, you’d been horrified, instantly running to the girl to see how she was doing. She’d been laying in a hospital bed, her face bandaged, but still smiling. It was a sad, pained smile, but she was clearly trying to be strong. 

     Once you’d found out about who had done it, you’d approached Katakuri. He’d been furious. So much so that he’d very nearly hit you as you approached him, stopping at the last second as he realized it was you. He told you about how he wanted to protect his family from now on, about how he needed to get stronger, how he needed to find a way to make sure that the bullies didn’t attack his family in order to attack him. His only solution was to hide his face. They’d attacked Brulee to get back at Katakuri, they’d wanted to get back at Katakuri for beating them up. They’d only harassed Katakuri for his mouth, meaning his mouth was the problem. You’d disagreed, but knew you couldn’t change his mind, so you’d asked him to give you 2 weeks. For the entire 2 weeks, you’d done nothing but work on the item. You didn’t make donuts, you only left the house to check on Brulee, all you did was sit there working on it. Finally, you’d presented him with the gift. A scarf, black with white fur lining. Wrapping it around him, it covered his mouth, hiding it away. 

     You hated that he was intent on hiding his face away, that he wouldn’t ever show his face to anybody ever again, but it was okay. It was okay because it meant that you could give him the most meaningful gift you’d ever given anyone. Hours and hours of sewing by hand, making sure each and every stitch was perfect, that each centimeter of the scarf was perfect. That was the day he’d first shown you how he felt about you. He’d pulled down the scarf just enough to show his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before pulling the scarf back up. You soon became the only one allowed to see his full face.

     At first, his meriendas were taken in his room, the both of you locked away in his room as he enjoyed his treats. You’d nibble on a single donut that he always gave you, being the only person he’d ever share a donut with and you’d let him lay his head in your lap, making his meriendas all the more enjoyable. If he wasn’t in the middle of singing it, you’d often hum his donut song while nibbling on your own donut, bringing him more peace and contentment. While you were still sad that he had to wear the scarf, it was made better by the knowledge that you were the only one who got to see his face. As he got older, grew in size, you’d make him a new scarf to fit him properly as needed and each time it was just as special as the first. Every scarf you’d ever made him was carefully hung in his closet, hidden away from the world, just like his mouth, but kept close to his heart. He’d asked you out on a date a couple of years after you gave him the scarf, becoming your actual boyfriend. He’d made a special house of mochi, the first time he’d successfully done so, and had the chefs bring in a fine dinner. The two of you had enjoyed a sweet dinner together. 

     It soon became a rumor that he didn’t relax even during his meriendas, that Katakuri used it as ‘intense concentration’ and ‘nutritional intake’. At first it had taken everything you had to not laugh, knowing how Katakuri truly spent his time. You’d been asked a few times what it was like to join Katakuri during his meriendas, to be allowed to witness such a sacred moment. You’d thought it would be funny to further the rumor, saying that he communed with the gods of battle, that it was such a divine moment that even the heavens bathed him in a holy glow!... Katakuri hadn’t been amused. While you’d never thought of Katakuri as petty, he’d managed to get his payback. Saying that the time was sacred to you both. That you had been blessed by the gods of battle, that you were his oracle and blessed icon. From then on, you both spent his meriendas together, not that you minded. You were more than happy to join him during such a ‘sacred moment’ as his ‘holy idol’. More than happy to be the only one to see his handsome face, to see him truly enjoying himself. It was sad that he couldn’t show his face, but it was okay, because it was a special, rare, and ‘sacred’ moment meant only for you.

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

I kinda think politics and maybe also social media in the last 10 years has warped a lot of people's view of disagreements, in that...

It should be ok to have a low stakes disagreement with somebody.

It used to kind of be accepted or normalised that people would have low stakes disagreements with each other on matters of personal taste, or even extending to some things like, people's approach to issues or personal problems, relationships specific to them etc...

And I feel like, obviously, the divisions between people have jumped in the last few years between misinformation and propaganda, gaslighting, and the people at the highest levels of influence like political leaders and media owners jumping on stoking this and turning it to their advantage instead of remonstrating with it and opposing the concept because some things should be above that...

But as a side effect I do think people are overcorrecting in a way that, another 10 years down the line, or maybe even less, could also be damaging...

In that, right now, consensus and lack of disagreement in all matters is put on such a pedestal that...

Culturally, we are encouraged to / encouraging each other to have more praise and respect for someone, or those people, who, can feign consensus and conceal their true opinions for the good of maintaining total harmony and avoiding conflict within the social group, than people who admit to having some different tastes and opinions (again, I reiterate, in small ways - not wanting to go to that place for dinner, or not liking a certain movie that everyone else loves, or not agreeing that 90s fashion was the best ever decade or that X reality tv character is obviously the best one on the cast) that counteract the majority opinion of the group, and...

While that's well and good now to avoid conflict in the moment and/or to show how much we support each other by agreeing, it's also planting the seed that to disagree with the majority consensus at all is suspicious and the person that does that might provide a threat or source of danger, and...

Historically that hasn't left minorities in a great situation.