#like patience in this case applies for anything and anyone

[bragganhyl]

i have no braincells and even less patience today and yet i'm itching to make stuff

[angiesmagicspace]

Only look, don't touch

Pairing: Seonghwa x reader x Mingi x San

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: name-calling, threesome, grinding, toys, degradation, praise, oral (male receiving), squirt, orgasm denial…….

Summary: You belong to him, everyone knows that you like that. But something about testing his patience and subtly offering yourself to his friends seems more thrilling. Sadly for you, he already knows how to fix that.

Masterlist

Authors note: Here I am back from the dead, uni is killing my will to live, so yeah. Also, here's the toy that is used in the fic.

Seonghwa wasn't obsessive but possessive, sure. He liked for people to respect and take care of his belongings. That especially applied to you, he was fine with members taking care of you when you weren't well and on similar occasions. But he had limits to that, one wrong look from any of them, and your neck would be full of his marks the next day. You liked that mentality, you knew that you were his, and he would do anything to protect you from anyone. However, that also gave you a lot of space to test his patience. Wearing promiscuous outfits around the members and in the dorms was one of your favorite forms of entertainment. Seonghwa would stare them down, shooting arrows by looking at them, and that would be enough for all of them to feel threatened.

The boys just came back from the tour and that meant a lot of time spent catching up with everyone. Especially with your boyfriend and his dorm mates, San and Mingi. After a few days of just chilling around and listening to their stories, you thought that it was the perfect time to test Seonghwa's patience again. You two haven't had a lot of time for intimate moments, so your plan made sense. By provoking him, you would ensure that he blows your mind the moment you two are alone at the apartment. 

Day one of your devious plans consisted of you just walking around in the tiniest top and tightest sweats you had. Making breakfast for all four of you, while three of them sat at the counter behind you. This was already driving Seonghwa crazy, every time San or Mingi looked up he would stare at them like he had lasers in his eyes. They felt his eyes on them very well, so they tried their best to keep looking at the pattern of marble on the counter. After breakfast, all of you sat in the living room, either watching the movie that was on or just scrolling on your phones. But that didn't mean that your plan stops at your outfit. You talked to San about some clothes while making sure that you were touching him very innocently, but your boyfriend knew that those touches weren't innocent at all. After lunch, it was apparent that your plan already made Seonghwa see red. So that's where you stopped but only for today.

Day two meant that you needed to get more progressive. Usually, you would be wobbling after just one day of provoking him, but that wasn't the case this time. So today your outfit consisted of the smallest pajamas you could find, coincidentally those pajamas were bought by your lovely boyfriend with your promise that he could rip them off you. As soon as he saw you in them, he knew that this would be a long day. Neither San nor Mingi could contain themselves, even though they knew that Seonghwa would probably kill them if it wasn't for their friendship and job. You made sure to make as much contact with both boys today. Chatting with them while they played some games in the living room, putting your legs over theirs while they played, encouraging them to stroke your soft thighs in the short breaks between the matches. Even when Seonghwa wasn't in your sight, you knew that he was clenching his fists to the point where his nails were making small bruises on his hands. But unbeknownst to you, he already made a plan how to get back at you for acting like a brat. He already knew that you were fine with being watched and that you were fine with someone joining your sexual experience. So he had a perfect plan involving one more thing, but you will find out about it tomorrow.

You were sure that yesterday would make Seonghwa lose his mind enough, so he would fuck you, but you were very wrong. Being separated for a long time probably taught him to control himself better. But your plan wasn't over, today should be the final straw for him. Entering the kitchen with only a silk bathrobe on should do the trick. All three of them were talking before you entered, taking their attention away from the conversation. As soon as they saw you, Mingi and San looked back down at the table, Seonghwa on the other hand just smirked. Sadly for you, there were some errands you needed to run today, so there wasn't much space for you to tempt the boys. But Seonghwa used that time wisely. He proposes to his dear friends that they join you two in some very sinful acts. He also used that time to clean the tentacle-like grinder that he bought for you. Then he strapped it on one of the coffee table books that you had in the living room, arranging everything to be perfect for when you came back.

You didn't know what were you expecting to see when you came back to the dorms, but the setting before you wasn't anywhere in your mind. There they were, all three of them shirtless, on the couch with their legs spread, the coffee table pushed back with something pink on top of the books. Seonghwa looked at you, and you gave him a very puzzled look. “Oh, honey, you are home,” he commented, bringing the attention of the other two. You just stood there frozen, this whole picture was too much to process. Three half-naked men right in front of you seem more like porn than your living room. “Hi princess,” San smiled, which brought you out of your trans a little. “H-hi guys, what is all of this?” you questioned while slowly moving toward the middle of the living room. “Oh well, Seonghwa told us that he needs some help dealing with you, so we were glad to help him,” Mingi explains, but none of it made sense. You looked at Seonghwa, but he just sat there, legs spread, his lips spread in a smirk. “Well, baby, I saw how needy you are for some attention. So I figured the three of us could satisfy your needy cunt,” his words echoed around the room and went straight to your pussy instead of your brain. “So baby, take off your clothes and start the show,” your boyfriend ordered, but you just stood there frozen again.

“What is it, baby? Shocked that you finally got what you wanted,” Seonghwa asked again, but still no words left your mouth. He leaned over and whispered something to San. “No worries' princess. I will help you to undress yourself. Seonghwa wants to see it,” San said, slowly approaching you. When he was right in front of you, first, he kissed your neck while unbuttoning your pants. His kisses made you relax a bit, closing your eyes, you threw your head back to give him more space for sloppy kisses. “Look at my little slut, as soon as someone even kisses her, she is gone stupid. Nothing but dick inside her little mind,” your boyfriend's words rang through your ears as San took off your shirt and bra, leaving you only in your panties. “She is so beautiful Seonghwa, I can't believe that you are letting us see her like this,” Mingi was already breathless, stroking his long dick over his sweats. “Well, that is what she wants. I got to make my sluts wish come true,” Seonghwa shot back, equally breathless.

 San kissed you one last time before pulling away and going back to his seat on the couch. You let out a little whine, already feeling neglected. “Now, slut, no need to whine so early. Take off those nasty wet panties and straddle your new toy that's on the table,” Seonghwas ordered, his voice powerful enough to make you do anything without questioning it for a second. After taking off your panties, you went to the table, observing the toy that was strapped to the book. That's when you realized that it was the tentacle grinder that you showed Seonghwa. “Well slut, I guess you are getting a gift even though you were acting like a brat for the past three days,” Seonghwa commented, while you were struggling to straddle the toy. When you finally positioned yourself on the toy, you looked up, realizing the position you were in. Three of them stroking their dicks, while you just sat there naked and horny out of your mind. “Princess, don't make us wait anymore. I can't wait to see you play with yourself and hear you moan for us,” San's voice was desperate, he wanted to witness your pleasure. “Start grinding slut or there will be no cumming for you tonight,” Seonghwa was stern. With slow movement of your hips, you started grinding on the toy. Feeling every ridge on it, you went faster with every passing second. “Oh Seonghwa, she is a slut for you. Make her play with her boobs please,” Mingi begged, already edging himself, not wanting to cum too soon. “You heard the man, slut,” the moment you heard his voice you grabbed both of your boobs, massaging them. Your moans were louder with every move of your hips, chasing your pleasure, that felt like it ran every time you got close. “Princess, you are so beautiful like this, all whiny and desperate to cum,” San already pulled his dick out squeezing it, making your mouth water when you saw it.

When your moans started being more erotic, it was a cue for Seonghwa to stop you there. “Stop slut,” he yelled almost, making you stop immediately in fear that he will make you suffer if you don't. “Oh, look who suddenly decided to be a good girl,” he approached you, grabbing you by your chin, and making you stand up from the position you were in. “So desperate for some cock that you would whore yourself out to my friends,” he spat, making your whole body shiver while shaking your head. “Don't deny it, princess. Both of us saw you, and it was very hard to resist you,” you heard San whine behind Seonghwas's back. “Hear that slut, no one is oblivious to your little slut show,” Seonghwa cocked his head. “I'm sorry sir, I was so desperate for you. I wanted you to fuck me so hard that I can't think anymore,” apologizing won't work now but at least you tried like you do every time. “Oh slut, you know that I don't care about your apologies. Now go down on your knees in front of my friends and show them how sorry you are,” he let go of your chin, and you ran towards the couch.

 Dropping to your knees, opening your mouth, and offering it to both boys to use. Mingi was first to p let you suck him, while San stroked your boobs with the tip of his dick. Mingi didn't let you do anything, he grabbed your hair and started fucking your mouth at a vigorous pace. Only choking sounds were heard in the room. Not long after, he came down your throat, moaning in a high pitch in contrast to his low voice. He moved so San could have a taste of your mouth. He let you do your thing for a change, and you made sure to take all of him. Sucking his whole dick inside your mouth, while giving small licks to his tip. While you were focused on pleasuring San, Seonghwa took the opportunity to bring your hips up and slam his big, hard cock inside your wet pussy. “Let me help you with that slut,” he said before rocking his hips, making your body rock forward, so you took even more of Sans's dick. He continued the rough pace, bringing you closer to the one thing you craved the most, your orgasm. With Seonghwas's help, you made San cum even faster than he intended. That's when Seonghwa pulled you back by your hair, your back hitting his chest. “That's right slut, moan for me, scream my name,” every word brought you closer to the edge. Your final straw was when you felt his long fingers on your sensitive clit. Body spasming, thighs shaking, you squirted all over the floor and the front of the couch. That sight alone made Seonghwa cum so deep inside of you. He grabbed you by your hips and brought you to lie down on the couch. The other two boys were too far gone to notice what was going on between you two. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” Seonghwa asked while carefully cleaning you up. You just nodded, not able to form any words. “I'm glad you are satisfied. You did so good for us,” his praise being the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep.

[sporeservant]

Get to know your Tav!

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Thanks for the patience of everyone who’s been waiting on this questionnaire. Below are some “get to know you” questions about the current or favorite Tav of anyone that would like to participate. Feel free to skip any questions that don’t strike your fancy or apply to your character by marking them with an “X”.

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Tagging:

@queenjayrogue , @owmyeyeballs , @teamdilf , @rapture29 ,

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Text divider credit @saradika

[headkiss]

something in the air

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you’re convinced you hate steve, and that he hates you right back. during your camping trip with friends, you find out just how wrong you’ve been.

word count: 13.9k

warnings: smut, mentions of a bad home life/family relationships, one bed (tent) trope, enemies to lovers (ish), and a sprained ankle

a/n: okay this one took forever so thank u for your patience and i hope it was at least partially worth the wait! please let me know what you think and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps a bunch!!!!

༄

Steve Harrington is a menace. And not in a good way.

For some reason, he insists on making your life more difficult. It couldn’t be for nothing, but you didn’t know exactly why. Maybe it’s because you tend to do the same to him, maybe you liked to get under his skin just as much.

He hung out with assholes in high school, and by proxy, he was also an asshole. Plus, you were really close with Nancy throughout school, and when she and Steve broke up, it didn’t really help his case. You didn’t know the full story, though.

You had no idea that Nancy cheated on Steve with Jonathan, only that she had feelings for him. You didn’t know about his parents and how it all affects him. You didn’t know that he dumped his friends so quickly after upsetting Nancy, that he worked hard to make it better. You didn’t know how much he cared.

You barely knew him. All you knew is that he got on your nerves. You couldn’t stand him.

It went both ways, though. Steve found you irritating and he hated that you had the same group of friends now. Because it meant he had to be around you almost all the time.

He wasn’t aware, however, that you struggled in school to have friends that weren’t Nancy, and when they dated, he sort of took her away from you, cut your time with her and you were alone a lot. Logically, it’s not his fault, but it’s how you felt. He didn’t know that you had a hard time at home like he did.

Maybe, for both of you, the feud was an escape, a way to channel your negative energy towards each other and not anyone or anything else.

After graduating, you applied for a job at Family Video, only for it to be taken by none other than Steve Harrington. You knew Robin worked there, too, but she was actually your friend.

That left you with a job at the grocery store that you hated but had to keep. It sucked.

Again, maybe it’s not his fault, but you were usually mad at him anyways. Why not add another layer to it?

On your days off, you spent your time at Family Video, though. You didn’t like being at home, and Nancy was still busy with high school for another year, so you hung out with Robin. Unfortunately, hanging out with Robin often meant hanging out with Steve, too.

That’s where you found yourself now, walking through the glass doors into the video store.

“Hi Robin,” you said as you walked up to the counter.

“Hey!” She noticed the takeout bag in your hand, “oh my gosh, you’re the best.”

“No hi for me, babe?”

“Fuck off, Steve.”

He scoffed. “This is my workplace, actually. I can't leave.”

“Yeah, I’m painfully aware of that.”

“Why don’t you ever just go home? You don’t need to be here.”

You tense up at that one, because he’s right. You don’t need to be there, but the last place you want to go is home these days. You roll your shoulders and try to shake it off.

“Anyway. Robin’s taking her break now. Bye.”

Robin just shrugs as you pull her away into the back room.

Steve is left thinking about why you reacted that way to what he said. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s said to you by far, and he knows it, so why was it enough to make you wince a little? And why the fuck does he care?

Once you were alone Robin glanced at you. Noting your off behaviour due to the home comment. She hates that two of her closest friends don’t get along, and she thinks she has a plan to change that.

“He doesn’t know,” she says. “About…you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” And you did, but that didn’t stop it from stinging. You just wanted to stop thinking about it. “So, how’s work going?”

“Ugh, it’s so boring. This food helps.”

“Not even my presence? Just the food?”

“Oh. You’re okay too, I guess.”

The both of you laugh, and you’re reminded of just how great Robin’s company can be. She takes your mind off of things and you wish you could show her how much you appreciate it.

So, when she asks you if you want to go catch a movie that night, you say yes.

-

You show up a little early, making sure you meet Robin outside before the movie starts.

However, she wasn’t showing up. And Robin wasn’t the type to be late, or blow you off without an excuse. So, you just went inside without her. You wandered around for a bit, giving her another chance to show up but she never did.

A call of your name grabbed your attention, but the voice made you roll your eyes. Why was Steve here?

“What are you doing here, babe?”

People would think the nickname was an endearment, something sweet. When it was coming from Steve, directed at you, though, it was almost like an insult. Spat out and accompanied by a frown of an angry pinch of his brows.

“Supposed to meet Robin, not that it’s any of your business.”

He chuckles, like he knows something you don’t. “Actually, it is my business. ‘Cause I was supposed to meet Robin, too.”

“She’s gonna be the death of me.”

“That’s something we can agree on.”

She must’ve thought putting you two together unknowingly would solve the issues. It certainly wasn’t that simple, but bless her for trying.

“Well. I’m not gonna give up some popcorn and a movie, Steve.”

“Neither am I. I’m already here, so…”

He wasn’t going to leave? Why? You really didn’t think seeing the latest rom-com would interest him, but then again, Robin got him here somehow. She thought she was so slick, you’re sure of it.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he parrots back.

You get your snacks and go to the screening room, all without talking to Steve. You’re actually trying to ignore his presence as a whole. He’s trailing behind you the entire time, though, so it’s not that easy. When you sit down, he sits beside you, and you glare.

“Why are you beside me?”

“It’s the seat on my ticket, babe. Where else would I go?”

“Seriously? Do you see the amount of empty seats?” You gestured around the theatre to prove your point.

In return, he just leaned back in his seat and let out a dramatic sigh, like it was the most comfortable he’d been all day when you know the seats are lumpy and stiff. You turn your face to the screen and go back to ignoring him.

He was a dork at the movies, you found. And it hadn’t even started.

Steve giggled at the stupidest commercials, would nudge you anytime he found a joke funny just to annoy you more. He ate his popcorn in giant handfuls where most of it would just land in his lap anyway. You even moved seats, leaving two between you and him, and he just moved over with you.

Fucking Steve.

“Would you move back over?”

“But the view’s so much better here.”

“Insufferable,” you mutter as you move back to your original seat. He tries to follow again but you push him back down with a hand on his chest, you ignore how it feels under your palm. “Stay here like a good boy.”

His heart rate picks up and he prays you can’t feel it. He kinda thought that was hot, but he shakes it out of his head before he thinks about it too much, what it might mean. He looks at you from under his lashes, taunting. “What if I wanna be bad, babe?”

You stand up fully and take your hand off of him. You don’t know if the comment was meant to sound so dirty, but you don’t even want to think about it. The idea of Steve in any way that’s more than a pain in your ass makes you shudder. The opening credits of the film grab your attention.

“You stay here. I’m gonna go there.” You don’t give him enough time to respond.

He watches you walk away, and he decides he’ll let you have at least some peace until he goes over and bothers you again. He’s itching to go and sit next to you, and he convinces himself it’s because of his pent up frustration from the work day, nothing else. You’re the only one he can argue with that will give it right back to him. He hates it, but he craves it all the same.

It’s about halfway through the movie when Steve sits next to you again. You shake your head, though you're surprised he waited this long.

“Thought I told you to stay,” you whisper rather aggressively at him.

“Yeah, well I don’t think you really hold any authority over me, babe.”

“Nobody trained you as a kid to listen?”

“You’re talking like I’m a dog.”

“Might as well be.”

He scoffed, maybe a little loudly, but he didn’t care. You tested him constantly, and he wasn’t sure what it was about you that made him so frustrated all of the time. Maybe it was the fact that you never even gave him a chance to be civil with you, staring him down and rolling your eyes the first time you even met. Maybe it was the way he knew you were a good friend to others, he saw it with Robin and Nancy and everyone else, just not him.

Either way, you made his blood boil, so much so that he often thought about you when you weren’t around. The things you’d say and the looks you’d give him. You never left his mind and it infuriated him.

“You’re a real pain, you know that?”

“That's all you got for me, Steve?” You blinked at him with an innocent smile.

“You know-” he’s cut off by multiple people in the theatre shushing him.

“I tried to tell him, guys. So sorry.”

Despite people telling you to be quiet, you and Steve only last about two minutes next to each other before whisper-fighting again. It gets bad enough that you’re asked to leave.

As much as you know you’re both at fault, you feel fine blaming him.

“Seriously, Steve?” You spoke harshly at him once you’re outside. “You couldn’t just stay two seats away and let me watch the damn movie?”

“I didn’t want to watch it, so I talked to you instead. What’s so bad about that?”

“Oh don’t play innocent with me.”

“Fine. No, I couldn’t. You piss me off and I just wanted to hangout with Robin, not deal with you yet again today.”

“You’re not dealing with me. I can deal with myself, and I wanted to be with Robin too, asshole. Don’t get that twisted.”

“Trust me. You never let me fucking forget how little you want to be around me.”

“Because this is what happens!” You’re tired, and you don’t feel like arguing with him anymore. “Fuck this, I’m going home. Thanks for ruining my night, Harrington.”

He almost offers you a ride home. He knows you took the bus, you usually do. And he also knows that you hate the bus, he hears you say it to Robin enough. Then, he thinks about sitting next to you for longer and decides against it.

“Ditto,” he spits your name back at you. Not ‘babe,’ not any other nickname.

-

Once you're home and safely in your room, after the usual shit from your parents, you dial Robin’s number. She picks up on the third ring.

“Heyyy,” she sounds guilty, and she should.

“I’m gonna end you, Robs. What the hell?”

“I’m sorry! I just wanted you and Steve to get along and I thought maybe forcing you two to spend time together would help.”

She says it in a rush, her rambly way of speaking and you feel bad for being angry with her when you know she had good intentions, but she lied and you hated being lied to. Even if it was a small one.

“Robin, he got us kicked out of the fucking theatre.”

“You mean you both got kicked out?”

You sputter. You know she’s right but you hate to admit it.

“Fine, whatever. Still. That was torture, Robin. Torture!”

“I just want you guys to be civil, at least.”

“Maybe you should talk to Steve, then,” you hate that even when he’s not around, you can’t avoid him. “He’s just as guilty as I am.”

“I know that, and I will. I have another thing to bring up, actually.”

You’re eager to change the subject, to not talk about Steve Harrington for five fucking minutes so you hum, tell her to go on.

“The camping trip?”

You groan into the phone, “I know we do it every year but I hate camping.” Hate is an exaggeration.

“Nance wanted me to remind you, so that you book off work and don’t make any excuses.”

Fuck. She knows you too well.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll go.”

“Yay! And I really am sorry about the movie, I thought it would work.”

“I wouldn’t be so hopeful if I were you, Robs. Thanks for trying, I think? Bye.”

You hang up and flop backwards onto your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you can’t help but reflect on your day. The way Steve seemed to infiltrate everything you did, how his chest felt under your hand, the way he made you lose your mind like nobody else. You roll over and bury your face in your pillow.

Even when he’s not around, Steve’s able to drive you insane.

He wasn’t feeling much different. Steve had a very similar phone call with Robin where he complained about what she did, asked her what the hell she was thinking, and agreed to the camping trip reluctantly just as you had.

Robin couldn’t believe how similar you two were, and you had no idea.

Steve fell asleep with his face squished in his pillow and your perfume lingering in his senses. It was a fitful sleep.

-

The days pass by and you manage to avoid Steve as much as possible. When you visit Family Video, you make sure it’s during Robin’s breaks or on a day Steve isn’t meant to be working. When you do see him, you try to stay quiet and simply glare. You don’t feel like wasting energy arguing with him anymore.

Before you know it, it’s time for the camping trip. Nancy writes packing lists for everyone, Jonathan and Argyle are in charge of equipment, Robin plans everything, Steve and Eddie get the tents, and you plan the meals. It really is a whole system, and it’s been working so far and you can only hope it stays that way.

The morning you’re set to leave, you’re extra tired. You barely slept the night before and when you think about it you haven’t been sleeping well for a while. Since the movies with Steve, actually. You’re half asleep sitting on your porch steps next to your luggage when Eddie’s van finally arrives.

The sharp honk of the horn startles you, and you groggily grab your things and make your way over to the car. Of course, you’re not ecstatic to be spending an extended amount of time trapped in a van with Steve, but you’re too sleepy to worry about it too much.

Jonathan and Argyle are taking a car packed full with most of the stuff, while Eddie drives the rest of you along with whatever couldn’t fit in Jonathan’s car.

As you climb in, you don’t really take note of who’s sitting where, only that there’s enough room in the back for you to take a nap, so that’s what you do. You say hi, then, you’re curling up and closing your eyes. Your friends decide not to bother you and let you sleep.

Steve, sitting in the passenger seat next to Eddie, couldn’t stop turning his head to check if you were still asleep. He’d cover it up by saying something to Robin or Nancy, but they could see where his eyes were looking. On one hand, he was glad you were asleep; you seemed tired—more so than usual—and it kept him from having to argue with you. On the other, he sort of wished you’d wake up and say something to him, even if it was an insult. He missed the banter, the way he could let himself go around you.

He’d never say it, he barely even lets himself think it, but he misses the sound of your voice, too.

He didn't even want to wake you up when the van finally got to the campsite, even though the others left him to do just that. You looked so peaceful, the usual scowl you wore around him wiped off your face. He reached a hand out carefully, slowly, like he was almost afraid to wake you. He ran it up your arm first, ignoring the buzz in his fingertips, and shook your shoulder gently.

“Babe, wake up.”

You blinked your eyes open lazily, “oh god. Please don’t make fun of me right now, Steve. I’m too tired.”

He tries not to think of the pinch he feels at the fact that you think he woke you simply to say something to tease you. He doesn’t blame you, but it still bothers him. He pulls his hand away.

“Just telling you we’re here, sleepyhead. Would’ve let you keep sleeping, you know, enjoy the quiet. Everyone else wanted me to wake you up.”

“‘Kay, well your job is done.”

“Yep. Bye.”

He walks away after that, and you think that might’ve been the most awkward interaction you’ve ever had with Steve. He was distracted, maybe. Something on his mind you think. You stretch with a groan and move on.

You finally make your way over to where everyone else is setting up the tents, and Robin greets you with a dramatic hug. “Don’t be mad.”

You pull back and squint at her. “What did you do?”

“So,” she rocks back on her heels. “While you were asleep during the drive, the tent arrangements were sort of made and you and Steve happen to be sharing.”

“What? Why?”

“Well…me and Nancy want to share,” she looks at you shyly, even though you know she’s harboured feelings for a while. “And so the big tent went to three of the guys and Steve volunteered to share the last one with you.”

“He volunteered? You’re joking, right?”

Steve? Voluntarily share a tent with you? There was absolutely no way. The last time you checked, he hated you and vice versa, so what the hell was he trying to do here?

“No, I’m not.”

“Fuck’s sake,” you take a deep breath. You don’t want to ruin Robin and Nancy’s time and to be honest, when you think about it, you know Steve the most out of all of the guys. “Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you!” She then runs off to set up the tent with Nancy.

You look around for Steve and find him by himself, trying to put up the tent that would be yours, too. You make your way over there to help, and maybe to figure out what he was up to with this sharing thing.

“Hey, Harrington?”

He looks up from where he was fiddling with the tent, his forehead slightly damp and his jacket forgotten on the ground. You look at his arms, the way they move, but catch yourself before he notices. What the hell?

“Uh oh. The last name…”

“You agreed to share a tent with me?”

He honestly has no clue how he’ll talk his way out of this one. The truth is, he volunteered to share with you not only because he thinks Robin and Nancy deserve to share, but because he hated the idea of any of the other guys being the ones to sleep next to you. He doesn’t even want to begin to unpack what that might mean.

“Is that gonna be a problem?”

You crossed your arms, “you tell me, Steve. What are you playing at?”

“Wha- nothing. You should be thanking me, actually. ‘Cause Eddie and Argyle smell like weed all the time and Jonathan Sleep talks. I know from last year.”

“Thank you? Oh, Steve my saviour, for saving me from having to sleep next to a sleep talker.. the horror!”

He rolls his eyes, “are you gonna help me with this tent or stand there like a princess, huh?”

You stomp over to help him, sort of petulant and grumpy. You just want to know why he seemed so okay with this. None of it made sense and ever since he woke you up from your sleep in the van, things feel weird with Steve. You aren’t having full on arguments so far, and you don’t even remember the last time you’d gone this long without yelling at least once.

Miraculously, you and Steve actually finish setting up your tent first.

He smiled at you when it was done, and you shook off the feeling in your chest at having that boyish grin of his directed at you. You don’t think he’s ever genuinely smiled at you before.

After the site was set up, you all spent the rest of the day moving your stuff to the right places. It occupied enough of your time that when you were all finished, it was beginning to get dark out, the sun and its beams replaced by the night sky.

That night, nobody was up for cooking a big meal, so you all settled for cooking hot dogs over the fire that Steve built. It was a good night, in the end. Steve sat across the fire from you and the whole group split off into smaller conversations meaning you didn’t really have to interact with him. You still looked at him, though.

Every couple of minutes your gaze would flick over to him, his face lit up by the orange glow of the campfire. He’s always been pretty, you knew that, but you could see it now more than ever. The way he looked when he laughed, his hair a little messy but he didn’t care about it around his friends. It was hard to look away.

He found himself doing the same, stealing glances when you were too preoccupied telling a story or giggling at something someone said. You always grabbed his attention in a way he didn’t understand. He wanted to look at you, to talk to you (even when talking was more like fighting).

As it got later, and the majority of the group had already gone to bed, the rest of you decided to turn in, too. You had sort of been dreading going to bed because you were worried about how having Steve there would be. If you two could get along long enough to sleep.

He let you get changed first, hanging back to put out the fire and make sure everything was cleaned up. He waited a bit before going to bed, lingering by the dying fire and hoping you’d be asleep by the time he joined you in the tent.

You weren’t asleep, but you laid facing away from his sleeping bag and stayed that way while he laid down next to you. It was weird, feeling Steve’s body so close to yours. You could feel the body heat, the slight shift everytime he moved.

Steve had trouble getting comfortable. Something about you being so close to him in this way had his mind running miles a minute. He could smell your shampoo, could see details he never really lingered on before.

When Steve shifted once more you turned onto your back, “will you stop moving? Can’t sleep ‘cause you’re noisy.”

He smiles at the sleep in your voice, he hopes you don’t see it.

“Sorry, babe. Trying to get comfy.”

You expected him to say something along the lines of ‘you can sleep outside if it bothers you so much,’ not to apologize. He’s sweet when he’s tired, it seems, because after that he really does try to stay still.

“Um. ‘S okay,” you turn back onto your side, shutting your eyes and adding, “night, Steve.”

“Goodnight.”

He moves one more time before falling asleep, as slowly and quietly as he can and he winces when the noise of his sleeping bag against the fabric of the tent still rings through the small space. Luckily, you’re already sleeping this time.

-

At one point during the night, Steve wakes up extra warm. He opens his eyes and the space is dark, but he can see enough to know that the two of you have moved much closer in your sleep.

Your sleeping bags were against each other, Steve’s arm sticking out of his and slung over your waist, his nose almost touching your hair.

It’s an intimate position, especially for the pair of you, and he really doesn’t want to move but he also doesn’t want you to wake up and yell at him for being so close.

He takes another inhale, smelling your hair again before pulling himself away from you and turning to face the opposite direction.

He misses the feeling of you tucked close to him but chooses not to dwell on that.

-

The first full day was mostly uneventful.

You spent the time hanging out around the campsite reading, or playing cards, or just talking. It was nice to be able to spend so much time with the people you keep close, the friends you know you’ll always have.

As for Steve, things with him are odd. You don’t find yourself arguing with him, more so just teasing and letting things go that you wouldn’t have before. It seems like you both have realized something. What exactly that is, you’re not sure.

For now, you blame the atmosphere. Something in the air is making things shift around, feel different.

At one point you and Robin take a walk, finding the communal bathrooms and some trails that you can take later. She really just wanted to have someone to spill to about how things went with Nancy, and you were more than happy to listen. To get your mind off of a certain boy who wouldn’t seem to leave your thoughts.

The time ticked by lazily, the day filled with laughs and a lightness that you don’t feel when you’re in Hawkins. There are so many horrible people in the town, and while you know there are good ones, too, it’s nice to escape the bad for a couple of days.

Nothing super eventful happened until that night.

You all decided to open up the lunchbox Eddie brought containing joints, some provided by Argyle, which you wouldn’t touch given your tolerance, and smoke by the fire that burned as brightly as the night before.

A couple of joints were lit, passed around the circle until they were finished. Some people would hog them for longer, causing some false anger and light slaps and playful whines to ‘share,’ and ‘be nice!’

Somehow, you and Steve ended up next to each other this time. And somehow, there wasn’t any comment made about it, you both accepted it, welcomed it, even. He was warm, his skin like a space heater that you actually wanted to keep close. You blamed it on the fact that you got chilly easily.

Once, when you tried to reach for the joint from Steve’s grasp, he gave you a teasing grin and held it out of your reach.

“Hand it over, Harrington,” you huffed.

“If you want it, you gotta come get it, babe.”

Usually, the nickname would come out harsh, but not this time. No, this time it lost its edge, leaving his mouth like a true endearment. It made your heart stutter.

“‘Kay,” you were already feeling it, so you didn’t hesitate to practically climb into his lap to get it.

He was frozen at the feeling of you against him, on him. It made him blush and he hoped that the glow of the fire hid it well. You grabbed the joint easily, humming in success and moving back to your spot next to him.

He avoided Robin’s gaze, knowing it would say ‘seriously?’ and raise even more questions in his head about what he actually feels for you. He wasn’t ready to dive into that just yet.

As the sky got darker and the hours shifted to the earliest of the morning, the group began to head to bed. First, it was Nancy and Robin, stumbling off giggling with their elbows linked. Then, it was Jonathan and Argyle, who left with a ‘goodnight dudes.’ When Eddie saw that it was just him, you, and Steve left, he sent you both a wink and strutted off with that mischievous grin on his face.

You didn’t really want to know what he was implying with that look.

“You tired?” Steve asked you.

“Not really,” you shook your head. “Would love to lay down in my sleeping bag, though.”

“Forgot weed makes you snuggly, babe.”

He’s right, it does, and you're resisting the urge to lean your head on his shoulder as he speaks. He stands before you can, grabbing a bucket to put out the fire and then leading you both to your tent with his flashlight.

It’s not long before you’re both in bed, facing each other and laying closer than you ever thought you would. The weed was mingling with your thoughts about the boy, the new feeling you got when he looked at you. You’re sure it was nothing. At least, you think you are.

“Hey Steve?” You speak softly.

“Yeah?” He’s laying on your side, facing you and you’re doing the same. He isn’t sure when your face got so close to his but he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. What is happening?

“Why’re you being nicer to me? Thought you hated me,” you’re being more honest than you would usually allow yourself to be, especially with him. “It’s confusing.”

His eyes roam your face, the color of your eyes and the way your hair fell over your forehead messily due to your position. He brushed it back, contemplating what he might say.

“I never hated you,” and he means it.

“Oh,” you don’t know what else to say. You’re surprised by his admission.

“Do you hate me?”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, correct yourself. “No. I don't.”

He realizes his hand is still pushing the hair from your forehead, and when he goes to pull it away you make some sort of sound in protest. He keeps going.

“I’m sorry that I judged you ‘cause of high school.”

Your eyes are closed, but he knows they’re probably looking sad, misty. He can tell you feel guilty, though he appreciates the apology, he doesn’t want you to be upset.

“I’m sorry, too.” He knows the dislike went both ways. He’s not so sure about that anymore, though.

You shuffle closer to him, letting your cuddling tendencies while high get the best of you and pushing yourself into Steve’s warmth. You tuck your head under his chin, the sleeping bag preventing you from using your arms. Instead, he frees one of his and wraps it around you.

You fall asleep with the smell of Steve surrounding you, bergamot, something woodsy, something sweet buried under the scent of weed that still lingers.

Your clouded mind doesn’t let you think about what this might mean, what might’ve changed in the short time you’ve spent at the campsite. Same goes for him. Steve’s content holding you for now, and worrying about it in the morning.

-

When you wake up, Steve still has an arm wrapped around you, though you’ve spun to face away from him. He’s close, his chest against your back and legs bracketing yours. You can tell even through the layers of your sleeping bags.

It makes your head spin.

You think maybe everything you’ve ever thought about Steve has been wrong—except for the fact that he’s pretty, you’re right about that—and it’s making you panic.

You lift his arm off of you as carefully as possible, just enough to slip out from under it. You wince when he makes some sort of sound of protest, his arm seemingly searching for you. You don’t want him to wake up now, you’re not ready to face him, really. You need to think.

Lucky for you, he finds your pillow and decides to cuddle that instead, remaining asleep.

You’re up before anyone else, catching the last bit of the sunrise and seeing the yellows and oranges give way to the blue skies of the day. You sit on the ground with your back against one of the logs used as a bench during campfires, your legs bent and your chin propped up on your knees.

The quiet is nice, nothing but the birds chirping and the wind rustling tree leaves. It allows you to try to figure out whatever the hell this camping trip has done to your relationship with Steve, if you could even call it that.

It seems that at some point during the short time you’ve been here, the hatred you thought you had for him had dimmed, changed into something more friendly, maybe. Though, you wouldn’t describe some of the thoughts you had about him recently as friendly.

You huff and drop your face so your forehead rests on your knees now. You haven’t figured one thing out. If anything, forcing yourself to think, to unscramble your thoughts, has only made things worse. Blurred the lines more.

It could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been hours before someone else got up. That someone was Nancy, who simply walked over to where you sat, and took a seat next to you. She knew when not to ask, when to just be there. You’d known each other long enough for things to be easy like that.

When you turn your face to look at her she gives you that classic Nancy smile, close-mouthed and soft, and it tells you that she’s there, that it’ll be okay in the end.

In that moment, you believe it, and you rest your head on her shoulder.

-

Other than your inner crisis of the morning, the day is uneventful like the one before. You all head down to the nearby lake and laze around. You keep reading the book you brought, munch on the snacks Nancy packed up in a picnic basket, and even have a nap on the blanket that was lying beneath you.

You had an early morning, after all.

Steve couldn’t keep himself from sneaking glances at you all day. Though, maybe it doesn’t count as sneaking if both Robin and Eddie call him out on it. He doesn’t say anything to them, he doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to. He himself has no idea what’s going on.

All he knows is that you look really pretty when you sleep. Well, you look pretty all of the time, but there’s something about the complete serenity on your face, the way your cheek is squished against your hand and your hair falls around you messily.

When the breeze picks up, he uses the blanket he was sitting on to cover you. He doesn’t let himself overthink it in the moment, even if he knows he will later. He just wants you to be warm and comfortable.

Robin pulls him aside under the guise of wanting to grab something from her tent and fully believing in the buddy system. In reality, she wanted to try and knock some sense into him, because she knows she’ll be able to crack him sooner than she could you.

“Steve, you like her,” she tells him. Not a question, a statement.

“I don’t, Robin.”

“Oh come on! You won’t stop looking at her, you tucked her in for fucks sake!”

He only stares at her, unsure of what to say.

“How can you be so clueless about your own feelings? We can all see it. Me and Nance talked about it earlier, and she said she saw your lady really early this morning looking all troubled.”

“She’s not my lady. Jesus, Robin.”

“Of course that’s the part you choose to focus on, dingus. Means she’s confused, and so are you. I knew you guys didn’t hate each other.”

“Just ‘cause we don’t hate each other anymore, or whatever, doesn’t mean we like each other, either.”

“Can't wait to tell you I told you so later.”

With that, she heads back to the group, leaving Steve even more frazzled than he already was.

That morning, when he woke up holding your pillow, his face buried in it, he couldn’t ignore the disappointment he felt because of your absence. Hated that he inhaled deeply to catch a whisper of your perfume or shampoo on the pillow.

He also can't stop thinking about the conversation from the night before.

‘Do you hate me?’

‘I don’t think so…No. I don’t.’

He wonders if you really meant it. He hopes you did.

-

The two of you don’t talk again until you’re going to bed, back in the solitude of your shared tent. You’d been orbiting each other all day, round and round and never colliding.

You’re forced to talk to him when you climb into the tent, Steve already in his sleeping bag with a book propped open and a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

“Didn’t know you could read, Harrington.”

He peeks at you through his glasses, your face clearer than usual thanks to them. “I’m full of surprises, babe.”

You’re realizing that now, you think.

“And the glasses?” You gesture towards him with your hand, moving to sit down atop your sleeping bag when he replies.

“Got beat up one too many times, I think. Ended up with shit vision.”

“At least you look good in them,” you blurt out.

It’s true, he does look good in them. You think he’d look good in anything, really. The frames suit him, make him look softer in a way. Even though you mean it, you didn’t want to say it out loud. You hope he’ll ignore it for your sake and move on. He doesn’t.

“You think so?”

He sounds like he truly means that question, like what you think actually matters to him. It does matter to him. In fact, you’re the only person besides Robin who’s seen him with them on and he can’t help but feel nervous, insecure.

“Um,” you look at him. “Yeah, I do.”

You’re pretty, you almost add, but you stop yourself. You haven’t figured things out enough to say things like that to him right now. You don’t know if he’ll tease you for it, hold it against you, or if maybe he’ll keep looking at you the way he is right now. You hope it’s the last option.

His gaze is tender, but it leaves your skin burning. His eyes trail your entire body, down and back up until they’re locked on yours once again. He’s taking his time to see you in a way he hasn’t let himself until now. The color of your skin and the dips and curves of your body, the way your hair frames your face and the shine of lip balm on your lips. He closes his book, tosses it aside.

“They’d look good on you too,” it takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the glasses. He shuffles closer to you, takes them off and pushes them onto your face. “There.”

His fingertips brush the skin of your face when he pulls his hands away.

“Jesus, Steve, you got punched badly enough for this prescription?” You squint at him through his lenses.

He huffs out a laugh, small, but there. You want to make him laugh again and again. The thought scares you because you know that something is changing in how you look at Steve, that maybe it changed a long time ago and you were too busy mouthing off at him to notice.

“I think it has more to do with the number of punches, not their force,” he says. Then, “they look nice. The glasses, I mean.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You take them off and give them back to him, he tosses them aside to where his book lays forgotten. He’s not so interested in reading anymore, anyways. Not when you’re here, not when you seem to be getting along well enough that he keeps looking at your lips.

Everything’s fucked. It’s all so different, like a tectonic plate has shifted in his mind and stirred it up, changed how he sees you. If only he knew the exact same thing was happening to you, too.

It’s quiet for a bit, sort of awkward. There’s something you know you have to talk about, but neither of you want to bring it up.

Steve seems to be the braver one in the moment as he starts, “listen. About last night-”

“It’s okay, Steve,” you cut him off. “If you didn’t mean what you said. I understand.”

“No! No, it’s not-” he cuts himself off this time, trying to find the right words to say. “I did mean it.”

“What parts, exactly?” You hate that you have to ask for clarity, but you need to know in order to feel less afraid about what you feel. If he was in the same boat, you’re sure it’d make you feel safer.

“All of it. The part where I don’t hate you, that I never did. The part where I’m sorry for how things have been between us until now.”

“I meant it, too,” you say after a beat, voice almost shy. “All of it.”

“Can we be friends?” He asks, though the way his sight keeps flicking from your mouth to your eyes to the way your pyjama top falls off your shoulder doesn’t feel friendly. No, it feels heavier than that.

You nod, “I would like that, Steve.”

You can smell his shampoo, his scent, and feel his body heat that’s become more familiar in the last couple of days than ever. When did you move so close?

He’s right next to you, your legs touching and facing each other and you can feel his breath tickling your lips, taunting you.

“Do you think maybe we can start being friends tomorrow?” He says.

“Why’s that?” You ask, though by the way his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip, you think you know exactly why.

“‘Cause I want to do some very unfriendly things to you right now if you’ll let me.”

“Okay.”

It’s the only confirmation he needs before he leans in, pushing his lips onto yours sweetly at first, just a peck. Like he’s testing the waters and making sure you won’t pull away. When he pulls back and you try to chase his mouth, that’s when he really kisses you.

This time, it’s messier, quicker. It’s heated in a way that has your stomach swirling and your thighs squeezing together. He licks into your mouth, fully tasting you and opening you up for him. It’s dirty, the way he slows it down so it’s languid.

It has you climbing into his lap to straddle him and pushing your hands into his hair to keep him close. It has you grinding yourself against him and letting a small whimper escape when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth before diving back in.

You’re absolutely done for when he pulls back long enough to peel off his shirt and then kisses you dumb all over again, his hands on your waist urging you to move over him. He eventually takes your shirt off, too, but he doesn’t lean back in.

No, he’s completely taken by the sight of you and your lack of bra. Transfixed.

“Can I touch you, baby?”

That one’s new.

“Please.”

The word sparks him into action, and he can’t believe it just came out of your mouth and was directed at him. He thinks he must be dreaming, it’s all too good to be true. The feel of you against him, on him, all over him. The way your tits feel in his hands when he cups them and brushes his thumbs over your nipples, the hitch in your breath when he does.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty. So, so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it.

”You’re pretty, too.” Your hands interlock at the back of his neck and pull him in to kiss you again.

It’s not much longer before he flips you over, grabbing a pillow to place beneath your head and letting his hips weigh yours down, pinning you beneath him with one hand propping him up and the other still busy at your chest.

Your hands trail down his back, feeling the muscles ripple and shift under his heated skin. He’s pushing himself into you, hard, giving you both a taste of the friction you’ve been needing. It’s not enough, though, and he knows it. He needs more, too, but he holds off to tease you, to hear you say please again.

He can feel your chest heaving beneath him, and he pulls away from your mouth to give you room to breathe. He moves his kisses to your jaw, down your neck, instead. He’s careful not to leave marks, but he’s greedy with you nonetheless, covering as much skin as he can until he finds that spot that makes you whimper.

His ear is right by your mouth when you do and he thinks he’s found his new favorite sound.

His kisses stray further south, and your hands push into his hair when he pauses at your chest, pecking across the swell of your tits before taking a nipple in his mouth. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t stay there for long. The way you’re squirming a little under him, pulling his hair tighter, tells him you need more and he decides he’s teased you enough.

“Can I?” He asks, sitting up enough to hook his fingers in the waistband of your pyjama bottoms and panties.

“Only if you take yours off, too.”

It sounds like a good deal to him, he’s straining against his boxers, and he really wants to see you. Taste you.

He pulls your bottoms off first, leaving you naked and waiting as he stands to take his pants off.

“Hurry up, Steve. It’s cold.”

He lowers himself to hover over you once again, “don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you right up.”

Then, he’s making his way back down, a kissed path down your stomach until he’s laying between your legs. His hands run soothingly along the outsides of your thighs, hold them apart when you try to force them shut.

You feel shy under his stare, focused on where you’re wet and wanting. You seriously can't believe this is happening.

“You’re beautiful, okay? Don’t need to hide from me,” he punctuates his sentence with a sweet kiss to your inner thigh.

You don’t have time to say anything back because his mouth is on you, licking a stripe from the top up to your clit that has your eyes fluttering shut. One of your hands is back in his hair, the other searching for one of his and holding tight when you find it.

It’s not long until he has you moaning, your thighs now thrown over his shoulders. He’s groaning into you everything you buck up towards his mouth, encouraging you. He acts as if he’s enjoying it just as much as you are even though nobody’s mouth is on him. It makes it that much hotter.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at him without thinking of what he’s capable of making you feel after this.

“Steve,” you whine.

He pulls back to look at your face, the pinch between your brows telling him you need more. “What is it, baby?”

“Please.”

“Gotta tell me, pretty girl. Use your words.” He knows he’s teasing you but the reaction it’s getting him is too good to stop. The way you whimper when he licks at your clit only to pull back before you can even process it.

“Your fingers, please,” you say it quietly, but he lets it slide.

He uses the hand that isn’t still holding yours and brings two fingers to your entrance, circling it and getting them wet before he pushes them in slowly.

Steve doesn't think he’s ever felt this way with another person. He's so invested in making sure you’re comfortable, so taken by how you look and how you sound. He’s so completely lost in you and this and he doesn’t want it to end.

His fingers are moving steadily, finding that spot inside you that has your toes curling. He keeps going until he feels you squeeze around his fingers, his mouth back on you, though his eyes stay on your face. He knows you’re close when your head falls back, when you moan louder than before, when your thighs tighten around him.

“Is that good, baby?” It’s a rhetorical question, but he wants to hear it from you.

“Yeah, Steve,” you breathe out. “Really close.”

“Go on. Come for me.”

You don’t know how, but his words draw your orgasm out of you. It’s intense and has you laying back down, your head digging into the pillow and your hand squeezing his tight.

He doesn’t pull away until you push his head lightly, needing a minute to regain your bearings because of him. You don’t know how he can be so good, make you come in a way you didn’t think was possible. And he still looks as pretty as ever while doing it, his mouth and fingers wet with you.

You think your eyes almost roll back into your head when he sucks his fingers clean.

Steve Harrington really is a menace, just maybe not in the way you thought.

Your legs fall from his shoulders when he moves back up to your lips, kissing you slow and steady. It’s grounding, in a way. Brings you back to him and clears whatever remaining haze was there from your orgasm.

You can feel him hard against your lower stomach as you kiss, and you reach down to grasp him in your hand, stroking him slowly. He moans into the kiss when you do. You utter his name against his lips, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours in response.

“Yeah?” He’s breathing heavy, his voice coming out breathy and rough.

“Fuck me.”

His hips buck into your hand when he hears the words come out of your mouth.

The hand holding him guided him down to your entrance, and he takes over from there. He holds a hand by your mouth, “spit.”

You do, and he uses it to lube himself up, and pushes in with his elbows on either side of your head, blocking out anything that isn’t him. Once he’s buried all the way, your legs wrap around his waist, urging him to stay close.

The first thrust is slow, almost painfully so because you can feel every single inch as he moves. He’s big and the stretch is just enough to make your eyes water, just enough to have you moaning again.

“Holy shit, Steve.”

“I know, sweet girl. You’re doing so good.”

“Faster, please.”

He complies, his rhythm picking up and his mouth finding the spot on your neck he discovered earlier. It’s all-consuming, the way he touches you, the way he fucks you. It’s as if the rest of the world has melted away and all you can sense is him. His smell, his skin against yours, the way he moves inside you.

You tug him by the hair back to your mouth, letting him swallow your moans. He savours every single one, adjusts his hips every time one is louder than the rest.

Somehow, he can tell when you need more from him, like he’s learned your body completely even in the short time he’s had it. When he knows it this time, he sits up so he’s on his knees, takes one of your legs and sets it on his shoulder so he can move deeper, better.

“You feel so good, babe. Fuck, can’t believe you’ve been right in front of me for so long.”

It’s like he can’t control what comes out of his mouth anymore, all he knows is that you feel incredible, that you’re beautiful and he wants to break down every single wall that’s been put between the two of you. He wants to know you.

It doesn’t take much longer for your second orgasm to build up, your hands bunching up the fabric of the sleeping bag for something to hold onto. When Steve takes a hand and pushes it against your lower stomach, asking, “can you feel me, pretty. Right there,” that’s when you hit your peak again.

You’re a mess, moaning his name over and over as he fucks you through it all. When you’ve come down, Steve isn’t far behind you, his thrusts sloppier and small moans escaping him.

“Can I come on you, baby?”

“Fuck, Steve. Yeah.”

He pulls out, jerking himself off until he comes over your stomach, all but collapsing next to you when he’s done. Your heads on the same pillow and pants leaving your mouths. Steve searches the tent for his boxers from before, using them to clean the both of you up the best he can.

You’re still sticky and sweaty when he covers you both with his sleeping bag as if it’s a blanket, but you don’t mind. You want him to stay close, you think.

“You’re really pretty,” he says quietly. “I definitely do not hate you.”

You giggle, push yourself closer to him, your face at his chest. “I feel a lot of things for you, I think. Hate isn’t one of them.”

His heart swells at your words. He doesn’t think you’ve ever been so candid with him and he treasures it.

“Where have you been hiding this sweet girl, huh? ‘Cause I really like her.”

“Shut up,” you deflect.

“Just being honest. Let’s sleep?”

“Yeah, let’s sleep.”

You find that Steve’s embrace feels familiar now, letting his arms come around you and pull you close. You think that his lips on your forehead in a goodnight kiss is something you might need every night.

You also think you’ll have a slight panic about all of this tomorrow. But, for now, you let yourself fall asleep, safe and satisfied.

-

When you wake up, Steve’s already outside, and you can hear the chatter of your other friends, too. You figure it’s later in the morning, that Steve let you sleep in.

You can't believe what happened the night before, half convinced it was a dream until you notice that you’re still naked. You don’t regret it, you only wish it didn’t cause so much confusion in your head.

You really do want to be friends with him, though, now you’re not sure if that’ll be enough. If you might want more than that.

Once you get up and ready, and the day begins, you keep your distance from him. He seems to be doing the same. It’s not that you’re upset with him, it’s just that you’re scared of how much has changed in so little time and you need to process it, to let yourself solve the puzzle in your mind.

The only thing Steve had said to you that morning was while passing you a plate of breakfast he seemed to have saved for you. “We’ll talk later?”

You nodded and that was it.

It’s the afternoon when the group of you head towards one of the hiking trails, water bottles and granola bars packed in your bags. You all smell like sunscreen, thanks to Nancy going mom mode on you all.

The sun beats down on your shoulders as you walk, only quick moments of shade provided by the trees that you pass. You know that by the end of it you’ll all be sweaty and sticky, but it’s a nice trail, with a view of the lake peeking through the trees.

Argyle stops to look at every plant he deems ‘peculiar’ including mushrooms, he forces Jonathan to look at them, too. Eddie is humming a guitar solo the entire way, he says it’s the soundtrack to your adventure. Robin picks flowers along the way, putting one in everyone’s hair—two in Nancy’s.

As for you and Steve, you hang back a couple of steps behind the group, walking alongside each other. You don’t talk, settling for a comfortable silence. A mutual understanding that there is something to discuss, just not right now.

Every so often, your hands will brush, and you’ll glance at each other shyly before looking away again.

You’re about halfway through the trail when a tree root gets in your way. You happened to be looking away at the moment, Steve laughing at Robin’s joke caught your attention. You trip over it, your ankle rolling painfully as you fall with a small yelp.

Steve notices first, and he crouches down next to you. “Shit. Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you try to brush it off, even with tears gathering in your eyes.

Everyone else comes to see if you’re alright, too, and you hate all of the attention. You know they mean well, but it’s embarrassing.

“Can you stand?” Robin asks.

Steve holds out his hands to help you up, and he catches you when the pressure on your ankle is too much and you almost fall again.

“Guess that’s a no,” Argyle says. Jonathan gives him a light slap for it.

“I’m fine, guys,” you urge, though you’re clinging to Steve to help you stay up. “Just give me a minute and we can keep going.”

“Absolutely not,” Steve says firmly. “We gotta take care of that ankle, babe.”

Just as you’re about to protest, Nancy cuts in, “he’s right, it’s kinda swollen.”

“There’s a first aid kit in the van,” Eddie adds.

You’re frustrated that you’ve ruined the walk for everyone, and you cover your eyes with the hand that isn’t holding onto Steve to hide the fact that you are now crying. You’re in pain and humiliated and there are too many eyes on you.

Steve can tell, so he says, “you guys keep going, I’ll go back with her.”

They agree, and Robin gives Steve a look that tells him she knows exactly how he feels even though he’s not one hundred percent certain. When he hears you sniffle, his attention doesn’t stray anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you say between your crying.

“None of that. Was getting bored anyway.”

You try your best to gather yourself, wiping at your cheeks and eyes roughly. Steve pulls your hand away and does it for you, he’s much more gentle. The two of you stay put until you’ve stopped crying, and Steve doesn’t let go of you through any of it.

“I’m gonna carry you, okay?”

“No, I can walk, Steve. I swear.”

“Shut up and get on my back,” he leans down enough so you can hop on, in position for a piggy back. Your arms hold onto his shoulders, trying not to choke him, and your legs are around his waist. He holds you by the thighs and begins the descent very carefully.

His hands on you feel all too familiar now. You know what they do in intimacy, how they move and squeeze at your skin, your thighs. Almost like he’s doing now, though the situation and intent is much different.

Again, the walk is spent in silence apart from the sounds of your breathing and Steve’s footsteps.

Once you’ve made it back, he sets you down so you can sit on one of the log benches by the fire pit, and he goes off to Eddie’s van with a promise to be back soon.

You discover that he’s good at keeping promises, as he’s back before you really noticed his absence. You think he might have ran there and back and that thought has your heart skipping a beat in your chest. He’s good at taking care of people, you think. The way he knew how to calm you down, how he offered to carry you, and how he takes your injured leg in his hands so carefully you almost melt. He tugs your shoe and sock off, apologizing when you say a small ‘ouch.’

“There should be a tensor bandage in here somewhere. I’ll wrap you up real good, I swear.”

“I trust you, Steve.”

He thinks those words hold a lot more weight and meaning than just wrapping your ankle, and he files it away in his mind to think about in the future. He can tell you don’t trust a whole lot of people, and he feels special that you do him. His lips curve into a soft smile.

He kneels on the ground in front of you, first aid kit open at his side and your foot propped on his knee. He wraps it slowly, fully focused on making sure he does it right because he doesn’t like the thought of you hurting. He hates it, actually.

He knows things have changed drastically since you’ve been here, and he knows they won’t ever be the same. He only hopes that the outcome is good.

You watch as he works, eyes focused on the way his hands move and hold you so softly. With nobody else around, you allow yourself to relax around him, to let your eyes linger.

When he finishes, he presses a small kiss to your ankle over the bandage. If kisses had healing powers, you think you’d be all better after that.

You don’t know how or why your feelings for him seem to have shifted so much, all you know is that any trace of hatred you had towards him has disappeared, wiped away to make room for something else. Something fonder that could be described using four letters and might have been around much longer than you thought.

“Thank you,” you say as he sets your leg down and moves to sit next to you.

“No problem, babe,” he pauses before continuing. “Do you want me to take you home today? I bet Eddie would let me take the van.”

“No!” It comes out more panicked than you wanted it to, but you really didn’t want to go home. You’d be happy staying at that campsite forever, because you hadn’t thought of your parents since you left until now. “I mean. No, I'd rather stay. Thanks though.”

Steve knows something’s wrong, that your relationship with your family may not be the best. He’s suspected it ever since your reaction to his comment about you always hanging around Family Video. He wants you to know he can relate.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You shrug, “not much to say, really. Just don’t like being home.”

“You can stay with me, you know… If you ever need to. My parents aren’t really around anyways.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, giving him some silent support. “Thank you. You’re kind of a great guy, Steve.”

“Only kind of?”

He turns his head towards yours, and you do the same. You’re close enough that you could lean forward ever so slightly and you’d be kissing. You think about it, he does too.

Steve breaks the moment first, though. He wants to kiss you, he really does, but he doesn’t want it to be in this grey area the two of you are stuck in. He wants it to be real, and to know exactly what it’ll mean.

“Why don’t I find you some ice for that ankle, huh?”

He squeezes your knee and stands, not waiting for a reply.

-

The rest of the day passed quickly, the group coming back from their hike and showing you polaroids they took of the view for you, Steve fussing over you every time you went to walk on your own.

Before you knew it, it was time to head to bed. Steve helped you walk over to your tent despite your insistence that you could do it yourself, “I’m going there anyways,” he said.

You simply huffed and let him curl an arm around your waist to give you some support. Maybe to have an excuse to touch you, too.

Steve left while you got ready for bed, even though he’d seen it all before. He still didn’t know where you stood and wanted to be mindful of that. As he walked back to the tent after a few minutes, he geared himself up to start some sort of conversation with you. The intent melted away when he saw you, though.

You weren’t usually a crier, but as you tried to get comfortable, you bumped your ankle against something and pain shot up your leg, sharp and sudden. You were sitting up when he came in, knees bent and your face buried in them, and your hands clutching above the bandage.

The tears fell before you could stop them, the frustration you felt and the flare up in your injury bubbling and spilling over. You heard the zipper of the tent’s entrance slip open, and you knew it was Steve, but you didn’t really want to look at him.

You hated crying, it made you feel embarrassed, and the softness in his brown eyes would only make you cry harder because you never had anyone care that much about you being upset.

“Hey,” he starts, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Hurts,” is all you manage to get out.

One of his hands rubs up and down your back soothingly, the warmth seeping through your shirt. His other hand reaches to where yours are holding your leg, prying them away gently and grasping it himself.

You lift your head to look at him, shy under all of his attention.

“You tired?” He asks.

You nod, and he urges you to lay down, so you do. He wipes away your tears for you yet again once you’re settled on your pillow. He reaches for his pillow, lifting your leg and placing it under your ankle to keep it elevated.

“Steve, you need that. What’re you gonna sleep on?”

“Got some sweats I’ll bunch up, don’t you worry. You need that more than I do, ‘kay?”

“You’re really sweet.” You say quietly, already much more comfortable than before. You don’t know if it’s the pillow he’s placed under your foot or if it’s simply Steve’s presence that makes you feel that way.

He does as he said, digging for his sweats and balling them up to use as a pillow but you stop him by saying, “you can just share mine.”

You scooch over until half of your pillow is empty, leaving room for Steve to lay down next to you. He’s careful as he does, watching where he puts his legs so that he won’t bump your ankle. He lays on his side facing you, wondering whether it would be okay to reach out and hold you.

He does it anyways, figuring you’d tell him to get off if you didn’t want him to. His arm slips out of his sleeping bag to hold your waist. You turn yourself towards him as much as you can while keeping your foot in a good position.

You find yourself getting sleepy a lot faster with him near, and it’s odd. Less than a week ago you were convinced you hated the boy and now… Well now you felt something far from hatred.

You never thought you’d even become friends with Steve, let alone whatever the relationship between you is now.

“Thanks for taking care of me today, Steve.”

His hand pulls you a little closer, “no worries. You’re a great patient.”

You breathe out, a hint of a laugh that would be there if your eyes weren’t so heavy.

“Do you think this is weird?” You ask. You’re not specific but he knows you’re referring to you and him and the lack of arguments.

“It’s different, but I’m happy. That we can actually talk now, that you don’t hate me.”

“Me too. Cuddling is also nice.”

Neither of you bring up the kissing, or the sex, but the thought of it lingers. It hovers over the two of you constantly, waiting to be brought up.

You fall asleep soon after, barely noticing the pain in your ankle anymore.

-

The next day was your last full one of the camping trip. So, naturally, everyone was together for it all. There wasn’t room for a conversation with Steve about the serious stuff which you didn’t mind all that much.

You were nervous to know what he thought. Did he even want you, or was it just a heat of the moment thing? Does he only want to be friends, or did he feel more than that?

You’d rather float in the unknown rather than hear that he didn’t like you the same way. Because this was new to you. You never had a boyfriend, never wanted one, either. And then Steve Harrington just had to make you feel so much for him. Things you didn’t know how to deal with for so long that your instinct was to act like you hated him. To convince yourself you did.

You weren’t ready to go home, to go back to reality. You were scared that you and Steve would revert back to how it was before, the dirty looks and the comments and the mask of dislike. You didn’t even want to think about going back to your house or your lousy job.

Though you didn’t have time for any serious chats, Steve would find ways to check in on you, to ask if your ankle was bothering you at all. He even rewrapped it for you when he noticed you struggling with it.

As day turned to night, the sun swallowed by the horizon, you all spent time packing up the site so it would be quicker to leave in the morning. Everything apart from the tents and what you needed to sleep was cleaned up and packed into Jonathan’s car.

Once more, the most talking you and Steve did was before bed, in the bubble of your tent.

He shared your pillow like the night before, held you the same way, too. He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried. Steve found himself making excuses to come up to you during the day, asking if you needed help even though he knew you didn’t, checking on your ankle even if he had already done it ten minutes ago.

“What do you think is gonna happen when we go home?” You ask.

“You mean with us?” He checks, and when you nod, he takes a moment to think before continuing. “I want to be your friend, I meant that. I also think that there might be more? Maybe. I just don’t want to rush things with you,” he says the last part quieter than the rest.

“I do, too. Think there could be more. I’m scared, though.”

He reaches a hand to hold your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth.

“I know that a lot has happened in the last couple of days, but I think we could be something. Don’t you want to give it a try?” He asks you, his face close enough to yours that you can feel his breath on your lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

You know that you’ve barely scratched the surface of what you really feel. You’re ninety nine percent sure that you love him and you know he deserves to know that. You’re just not ready to say it, and you want to give yourself time to see what things will be like back in Hawkins before you do.

He nudges his nose against yours in response, waiting to see if you’ll pull away before leaning in to kiss you. It’s slow, languid and you know it won’t lead to anything more but you cherish it all the same.

You try to pour what you can't say into it.

Steve couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He’d been wanting to kiss you ever since the last time and it was as if the rubber band of his reserve snapped when you said you wanted to try with him. Deep down, he’s a romantic and he wants to show you that side of him.

He figures kissing you the way a lover would is a good start.

-

The next morning was a whirlwind of packing what was left, making sure nothing was forgotten, and taking the tents down. It was a lot of yells back and forth and stuffing cars as full as you could.

The energy was down, everyone slightly bummed to be heading back to reality. You were especially bummed about going home. You never realize how much you hate it until you’re gone. You also worried about what would happen with Steve, how things would play out.

On the drive home, everyone sat in the same spots. Though, this time, Nancy and Robin stayed a lot closer, hands intertwined and smiles a bit brighter. It seems you and Steve aren’t the only ones who felt a shift while you were away. Maybe there really was something in the air, something that wasn’t as heavy as things felt in Hawkins.

You ended up falling asleep again during the drive, the crack of the music through the van’s speakers making your eyes heavy. You’re lucky nobody let Eddie play his music or else you surely wouldn’t get a nap in.

You’re the first one to get dropped off and Steve can’t help but worry. From the very small amount of information he’s gathered about you and your family, he knows you don’t like being around them. He wishes he could shield you from it all, how odd is that?

He’s pretty damn sure he loves you, actually.

That’s why when Eddie pulls into your driveway he offers to wake you up and help you grab your things. It’s why he’s gentle when he does so, getting out of the car and opening your door.

“Hey, babe,” he shakes your shoulders gently. “Wake up.”

You do; you’re a light sleeper. You rub your eyes tiredly and when you blink them open the first thing you see is Steve. It’s a nice sight to wake up to.

“Mmm, hi.” You say, stretching your arms.

“Hey, we’re at your place,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

You climb out of the car, thanking Eddie for driving and saying bye to Robin and Nancy. Steve grabs your bags for you and walks you to the porch. He goes to help you inside but you stop him.

“It’s alright, Steve. I’ve got it,” you take your bags from him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he’s quiet for a moment, glancing at your door before adding, “you’ll be okay? I meant it when I said you could stay with me, you know?”

“I’ll be fine. Promise.”

You smile at him shyly, not quite sure whether you should hug him or just go inside. You wait to see what he does, but he has his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet.

“Okay, I’ll head inside. Bye, Steve.”

“Bye, babe,” his hand brushes your arm as you go inside.

Back in the van, everyone looks at Steve like he’s an idiot. And, well, maybe he is only this time he doesn’t understand why. He looks out the window for the rest of the drive.

He knows your parting was awkward, but he didn’t want to scare you off by kissing you or doing something in front of the others when you had only become friendly a few days ago. He wasn’t used to having things move so fast, or to having them feel so strong, so vivid.

When he gets home, the house is empty. He can’t help but feel like it’d be much brighter with you in it.

-

You’d been back for a week and nothing major really happened between you and Steve. You weren’t sure if the conversation was forgotten, if it didn’t actually mean anything. All you knew was that you definitely loved him and it was scary.

You didn’t let yourself feel things like it so often, and it was hard for you to admit it, but you were in love with Steve. It’s why it made it almost harder to be around him than it was when you thought you hated him. You didn’t know how to act, what to say.

When you weren’t working, you still visited Family Video, though now when you and Steve would tease each other it would end in smiles and laughs, not someone storming off.

Things were sort of awkward, too. Neither of you knew if you should touch, or kiss. Neither of you wanted to be the one to ask, either. You were constantly tip-toeing around each other, never fully diving in even though you wanted to.

He called you somethings, too. Late at night when your parents would be asleep. You’d always pick up right away, ‘cause you waited for his calls, sitting in your bed with a hand next to the phone just in case. He’d always ask you how you were doing, remind you that you were welcome at his place. He once said he missed sharing a tent with you, that he wanted to see if sharing a bed would be the same.

It’s the boldest statement either of you had made since your return.

Despite the actions not being there, the feelings never left. Steve would stare at you when you visited him and Robin at work, distracted from tasks and practically hypnotized. Where he used to watch you with red hot anger, it’s turned into a rose coloured haze. A pair of heart sunglasses.

It’s not until you finally take up his offer that you’re alone with him.

Your parents were being their usual selves, only somehow it was worse, more amplified. You couldn’t stay in that house anymore, so you packed a backpack, snuck out your window, and walked all the way to Steve’s house. It wasn’t too bad of a walk. It gave you time to clear your head.

Steve was actually about to call you when he heard a knock on his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and he couldn’t stop himself from hoping it was you. Then, he opened the door and there you were, looking pretty as ever with a backpack on your shoulders and an apology in your eyes.

Before you could even say anything, he ushered you inside.

“Hi, babe,” he grabbed your backpack. “You okay?”

There was a softness in those brown eyes that warmed you from the inside out, that made you feel like everything would be okay as long as he was around. God, love makes you so gooey inside it was gross.

“Yeah, well, not really. Can I stay here?”

“‘Course you can. Anytime.” He holds a hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes your fingers.

He holds it all the way up the stairs to his room, setting your bag down at the foot of his bed and sitting on the edge of his mattress. He pats the space next to him for you to join.

“Thanks, Stevie.”

Stevie. He’s only ever had people call him that teasingly. Mostly in high school and he didn’t like it then. He much prefers it coming out of your mouth.

“Don’t need to thank me,” he says, reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m happy to have you here. I, um, I’ve missed you.”

He’s had a hard time opening up to people romantically since what happened between him and Nancy. He’s not sure how, but you make it easier. You make him feel like it’s okay to be more open, to let the walls around his heart crumble.

“I missed you, too,” you say.

“C’mere,” he moves up to sit with his back against his headboard, and pulls you into his lap, your legs on either side of his. It’s not in a dirty way, not at all. Rather, it’s for the comfort that can only be provided when having someone you love is that close to you.

He winds his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a hug, yours going around his shoulders, face turned into his neck. You indulge yourself in his smell and his arms and his warmth. You push a small peck into the skin just below his ear before pulling back enough to see his face.

“I needed that, I think,” you say.

“I really fucking like you,” he says, his head tilting back to rest against the headboard with a thump.

It’s like he couldn’t stop the words from coming out anymore. He’s been thinking it for too long without being able to say anything, and he’s done waiting, he thinks. He knows he loves you and as terrified as he is, he won’t let that feeling go ever again.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, really,” he smiles at you, shutting his eyes for a second before looking at you again. “Listen, I know things have changed crazy fast, and I know that we’ve really only just started to get along but, I love you. I have for a long time, I think.”

The butterflies in your stomach are set free, a smile breaking out on your face because this is what you’ve been waiting for since the trip that changed everything.

“I love you too, Stevie,” you say, pushing the hair off his forehead as if it’s a reflex; without thought. “I think I just convinced myself I hated you ‘cause I was scared.”

“Gave is an interesting story, don’t you think?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

He leans in to kiss you then, tender and smooth the way that only couples do. Full of love and emotion, your bottom lip between his. It’s the fluff and sweetness of the best kind of pink cotton candy. It melts on your tongue.

Steve pulls back when your smiles break the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I think this could really last. You and me,” he tells you. He says it quietly, like it’s a secret for your ears only. A confession; he’s thought about this, the future.

“You do?”

“I mean we already had our first fight like forever ago. And our second, and our third, and our fourth, and-”

You cut him off putting your hand over his mouth, “okay! I get it,”

You can feel him smiling against your palm.

༄

if you enjoyed please reblog, it would mean a lot!

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 PAVIA - Love Languages (giving)

Headcanons and analysis on Pavia's love languages and the way he likes to show affection.

yeah ok ive been playing reverse 1999 what about it <3

it might be a little too early to write anything for it, given the lack of in-depth content, the awful translation and all, but who cares lol

Pavia as a whole - his speech pattern, the way he presents himself, his appearance, line of work, relationships, etc - can easily be described as brash and straightforward. That direct sincerity and lack of restraint is part of what makes him dangerous. One can always count on Pavia to do and say whatever he wants, whenever he feels like it, regardless of time and situation.

When it comes to showing affection, no one thinks Pavia is capable (let alone willing) of forming lasting or meaningful friendships with anyone other than his pack of wolves. They all expect the same direct and selfish behaviour from Pavia in romantic endeavors, and he delivers wonderfully.

If someone manages to catch his eye, then he'll pursue them and make his intentions very clear - romance is optional and reserved for more "difficult" targets, but he's not the type to put in the effort. All of this inevitably leads to heartbreak and a long line of partners, each and every one fully convinced on being "the one" that would steer Pavia back onto the right track, into a more honest life.

Of course, this just applies to all those fleeting flings and whims, the superficial relationships everyone around him takes at face value to justify their hatred and disapproval of him.

Unless you're part of the pack, it's near impossible to know how Pavia acts around those he truly cares for because of his solitary lifestyle, to the point where those people might not even realize that Pavia cares about them and is actively trying to be nice. His love languages are unorthodox - as well as hidden under a few layers of nonchalance and casualness, I'd even argue that Pavia himself struggles to wrap his head around the concept of caring for someone other than himself - but with enough patience and attention to detail, they'll get easier to spot! Once you understand Pavia and his MO, it all just clicks into place.

Giving: Quality Time, Gifts

[Quality Time]

In this case, the term is used very loosely, as it doesn't exactly match the usual definition - there's no uninterrupted outings nor intimate one-on-one conversations, just an intense presence orbiting around as you go about your day.

This is what Pavia considers "quality time": inserting himself into the lives of those he cares about, entirely unannounced, to follow them until he's had enough or drag them around to do whatever he feels like doing if their routine is much too boring for his taste. The confidence he displays when disrupting people's lives paints him as a jerk with little to no care for their business - after all, how can it be quality time if you can't go buy groceries in peace because Pavia keeps trying to sneak weird shit into your cart and expecting you to pay? It's all pretty on brand for him, to use his presence as an obstacle and annoyance, the same way others have used it in the past as punishment.

But this is Pavia we're talking about. He prefers solitude, he doesn't care for company and he's turned loneliness into both a weapon and a shield.

It's always been very clear to him that no one wants to stick around, so for Pavia to offer his company in this manner is not unlike a stray dog testing the waters, seeing if it's safe enough to come out of hiding. He's gauging your reaction to his antics, his existence as a whole, under the pretense of bothering you because "he feels like it". It's kind of a privilege (and a miracle) to have Pavia seek you out without a bounty for your head! Consider yourself lucky.

But to address the two most common outcomes of this love language - if Pavia takes the lead and drags you around, it means you'll be involved in the most random fucking shenanigans.

Sometimes, he just lets you hang out with him, and you know you're dear to him if he allows the pack to play and relax around you. Sometimes, you're witness to his mercenary work and other shady jobs, willingly or not (he'll call you a coward if you don't want to bury a body with him). Sometimes, he takes you shopping only to dare you to get a five finger discount with him because he sure as hell isn't paying for all this shit. Sometimes, you see him argue for fun with people he doesn't even know. Sometimes, he shows you the hidden gems of his city and then leaves to see how you find your way back.

On one hand, it's a test - to see how you'll do should he choose to stick around for longer than what's acceptable for someone like him. On the other, he wants you to be part of his world, not only small glimpses of it - it's all or nothing. So it's only fair that he shows you the type of shit that you'll be getting into if you allow him to stay. Or rather, to welcome him when he comes and goes as he pleases.

On those scarce days when he prefers to follow you around, he's mostly driven by curiosity. Pavia rejects every conventional notion of leading a "normal" life, to be part of all those blubbering idiots and their made up rules, but he's still curious about how it all works. Do you really just wake up early to get prepared and then go to a job you don't even like? For like, a third of the day? Then you go home? And then you pass out for eight or more hours? Why the fuck would you even do that? Quit your job, what's the point. Live a life of reckless abandon.

He pokes fun at everything that he doesn't like, teases and bullies nonstop (one would have to be delusional to think Pavia's attitude softens around his loved ones, in fact, it gets worse), gets in the way and makes everything harder for you - but then you realize...

No one else has given you any sort of trouble, if else they've been nicer. There's been a sale everywhere you've gone to buy whatever you need, maybe you've been given a surprising discount. If you bump into someone, they apologize profusely. If you make any sort of mistake, it's forgiven immediately. There's always a seat for you no matter where you go, and the world seems to bend at your will for a split second.

You can thank him for that, by the way. Others would kill to have such scary dog privileges. And if things don't go the way he expects them to, that's fine too! He's ready to throw hands at the drop of a hat!

[Gifts]

This one is pretty easy and straightforward! Pavia likes to give things to his loved ones, as long as he doesn't have to pay much for them and as long as they don't ask anything from his personal collection or belongings (he's very territorial). Easy! Oh, and if you ask him directly for something, chances are he'll end up not getting you absolutely fucking nothing - but he'll praise you for trying anyway!

He's a hoarder, so he assumes that others also want lots of interesting and pretty trinkets to spruce up the house. His collection is more of a statement, and one could argue that him wanting to hoard is a direct consequence of the way he was brought up.

Somewhat unrelated, but I do like the specific headcanon about how Pavia is very easy to scam based on various lines in-game, like his glasses being a cheap copy of an actual italian brand and how most of his accessories are described as just garbage with no real value. Either that or he simply doesn't care enough about really owning any expensive brands, but likes to brag anyway.

No matter the reasoning behind it, giving gifts is an important part of Pavia's love languages.

However, he never aims to get you something that you've been eyeing for a while or something that could be useful - it's usually things that remind him of you, for better and for worse. Or really, anything he gets his hands on.

Pavia might show up one day with the ugliest little creature on a keychain, saying that it looks like you. And then, some other day he might show up with some matching earrings he made from scrap metal. If he's feeling particularly nice, he treats you to gelato, his favorite, or he'll have a bunch of fancy clothes or jewelry. Some of the gifts are questionable, and their origins even more so knowing the way Pavia operates and all, but it's up to you to ask him where he keeps getting all these things. It's pretty easy to tell, especially when the clothes are definitely not your size and the jewelry is all pure gold, with small blood stains. You'll have to forgive him, the guy is messy!

If you ever choose to throw away his gifts, Pavia won't hold it against you - it's your shit now, he couldn't care less what you do with it. Sometimes, you think he's simply using you as extra storage or as his personal trash bin.

You'll only see him visibly angry if you lose or throw away something that he specifically made for you. Those are the only gifts that really mean something to him, that should mean something to you! Pavia expects you to wear those little earrings, bracelets or whatever he ends up making - none of his wolves wear collars, so this is the closest thing you'll have to being officially accepted into the pack.

[tinylittleobsessions]

What if "Hogwarts Legacy" characters took the MBTI test?

Okay, this is something I do in this blog: whenever I obsess with a new story, I try and imagine what personality type would each character get on the MBTI test. It's silly, I know, haha - but I LOVE character study and discussing character personalities in detail; that's why I love writing this kind of post. So OF COURSE I had to do it with Hogwarts Legacy characters!

If you don't know this test, it's a personality test based on a theory written by Carl Gustav Jung that divides people in 16 different types of personalities. The personalities are defined by different combinations of letters that represent specific aspects of our behaviour and way of thinking: "I" for "Introverted", for example, "T" for "Thinking", "J" for "Judging", and so it goes. This way, your result will be something like "ENTJ", or "ISFP". This test is not universally accepted as scientific, true or correct, BUT I think it's a lot of fun. If you don't know your MBTI yet, you can take the test here.

Of course, this is heavily based on headcanon. Especially in the case of this game, I feel there are characters we barely know anything about - all we "know" is actually headcanon. 🤣 But I also think those headcanons are pretty much "accepted" by biggest part of the fandom, so hopefully you'll understand why I classified each one of them the way I did. I tried to focus on the students, but, when I couldn't find any student that would fit an specific personality type, I resorted to the other characters (Hogwarts staff, Hogsmeade, etc).

So, let's try this. Let me know what you think, please! 💚

THE ANALYSTS

OMINIS GAUNT: The Architect (INTJ) - Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging

Thoughtful. Their inner world is a private, complex one

Love perfecting the details of life, applying creativity and rationality to everything they do. Their minds are never at rest

Pride themselves on their ability to think for themselves, not to mention their uncanny knack for seeing right through phoniness and hypocrisy

May be cynical about human nature more generally, assuming that most people are lazy, unimaginative, or simply doomed to mediocrity

They question everything and prefer to make their own discoveries. In their quest to find better ways of doing things, they aren’t afraid to break the rules or risk disapproval: in fact, they rather enjoy it (and Heaven help anyone who tries to slow them down by enforcing pointless rules or offering poorly thought-out criticism)

They don't mind acting alone, perhaps because they don't like waiting around for others to catch up with them. They also generally prefer making decisions without asking for anyone else's input. At times, this lone-wolf behavior can come across as insensitive, as it fails to take into consideration other people's thoughts, desires, and plans

Because Architects value truth and depth, many common social practices - from small talk to white lies - may seem pointless or downright stupid to them. It would be a mistake, however, to view Architects as uncaring. These personalities feel deeply: when things go wrong or when they hurt others, Architects are personally affected and spend much time and energy trying to figure out why things happened the way that they did

Architects can be single-minded, with little patience for frivolity, distractions, or idle gossip. That said, they're far from dull or humorless. Many Architects are known for their irreverent wit, and beneath their serious exteriors, they often have a sharp, delightfully sarcastic sense of humor

ELEAZAR FIG: The Logician (INTP) - Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Prospecting

Logicians often lose themselves in thought - which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. People with this personality type hardly ever stop thinking, 'cause they can’t help but puzzle over the mysteries of the universe

Logicians are Introverts and tend to get tired out by extensive socializing. After a long day, they crave time alone to consult their own thoughts. But when they connect with someone who can match their mental energy, these personalities absolutely light up, leaping from one thought to another. Few things energize them like the opportunity to swap ideas or enjoy a lively debate with another curious, inquiring soul.

They love to analyze patterns. Without necessarily knowing how they do it, people with this personality type often have a Sherlock Holmes-like knack for spotting discrepancies and irregularities. When it comes to dissecting a tricky, multilayered problem and coming up with a creative solution, few personality types can match Logicians’ creative genius and potential.

The "analysis paralysis" can affect multiple areas of Logicians' lives. People with this personality type can overthink even the smallest of decisions.

IMELDA REYES: The Commander (ENTJ) - Extraverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging

People with this personality type embody the gift of confidence, and project authority in a way that draws crowds together behind a common goal. However, Commanders are also characterized by an often ruthless level of rationality, using their drive, determination and sharp minds to achieve whatever end they've set for themselves.

If there's anything Commanders love, it's a good challenge, big or small, and they firmly believe that given enough time and resources, they can achieve any goal. This quality makes people with the Commander personality type brilliant entrepreneurs, and their ability to think strategically and hold a long-term focus while executing each step of their plans with determination and precision makes them powerful business leaders.

At the negotiating table, Commanders are dominant, relentless, and unforgiving. This isn't because they are coldhearted or vicious per se - it’s more that Commander personalities genuinely enjoy the challenge, the battle of wits, the repartee that comes from this environment, and if the other side can’t keep up, that’s no reason for Commanders to fold on their own core tenet of ultimate victory.

The underlying thought running through the Commander mind might be something like "I don’t care if you call me an insensitive b*tch, as long as I remain an efficient b*tch".

If there’s anyone Commanders respect, it’s someone who is able to stand up to them intellectually, who is able to act with a precision and quality equal to their own. Commander personalities have a particular skill in recognizing the talents of others, and this helps in their team-building efforts

To people with the Commander personality type, emotional displays are displays of weakness, and it’s easy to make enemies with this approach. Especially in a professional environment, Commanders will simply crush the sensitivities of those they view as inefficient, incompetent or lazy

EVERETT CLOPTON*: The Debater (ENTP) - Extraverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Prospecting

Quick-witted and audacious, Debaters aren't afraid to disagree with the status quo. In fact, they're not afraid to disagree with pretty much anything or anyone. Few things light up people with this personality type more than a bit of verbal sparring - and if the conversation veers into controversial terrain, so much the better.

It would be a mistake, though, to think of Debaters as disagreeable or mean-spirited. Instead, people with this personality type are knowledgeable and curious, with a playful sense of humor, and they can be incredibly entertaining. They simply have an offbeat, contrarian idea of fun - one that involves a healthy dose of spirited debate. They are respected for their vision, confidence, knowledge, and keen sense of humor

For this personality type, no belief is too sacred to be questioned, no idea is too fundamental to be scrutinized, and no rule is too important to be broken, or at least thoroughly tested.

As Debaters see it, most people are too ready to do as they’re told and blindly conform to social norms, pressures, and standards. Debaters enjoy the mental exercise of questioning the prevailing mode of thought, and they take a certain pleasure in uncovering the value of underdogs and outliers. Their active minds can’t help but rethink the things that everyone else takes for granted and push them in clever new directions.

*this was a very hard one. I ended up deciding for Everett because his most important interaction with MC in the game is basically telling them to break the rules and try something different, lol (and because I think this personality type is very Ravenclaw-like). But I confess I was VERY tempted to choose Peeves for this one, lol

THE DIPLOMATS

NATSAI ONAI: The Advocate (INFJ) - Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Judging

Idealistic and principled, they aren’t content to coast through life – they want to stand up and make a difference. For Advocate personalities, success doesn’t come from money or status but from seeking fulfillment, helping others, and being a force for good in the world. Their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things.

While they have lofty goals and ambitions, Advocates shouldn’t be mistaken for idle dreamers. People with this personality type care about integrity, and they’re rarely satisfied until they’ve done what they know to be right. Conscientious to the core, they move through life with a clear sense of their values, and they aim never to lose sight of what truly matters – not according to other people or society at large, but according to their own wisdom and intuition.

Advocates are troubled by injustice, and they typically care more about altruism than personal gain. They often feel called to use their strengths – including creativity, imagination, and sensitivity – to uplift others and spread compassion. Many Advocates see helping others as their mission in life, and they’re always looking for ways to step in and speak up for what is right. People with this personality type also aspire to fix society’s deeper problems, in the hope that unfairness and hardship can become things of the past.

Advocates may be Introverted, but they value deep, authentic relationships with others. Few things bring these personalities as much joy as truly knowing another person – and being known in return. Advocates enjoy meaningful conversations far more than small talk, and they tend to communicate in a way that is warm and sensitive. This emotional honesty and insight can make a powerful impression on the people around them.

MIRABEL GARLICK: The Mediator (INFP) - Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Prospecting

Mediators have vibrant, passionate inner lives. Creative and imaginative, they happily lose themselves in daydreams, inventing all sorts of stories and conversations in their minds. These personalities are known for their sensitivity - Mediators can have profound emotional responses to music, art, nature, and the people around them.

Mediators share a sincere curiosity about the depths of human nature. Introspective to the core, they’re exquisitely attuned to their own thoughts and feelings, but they yearn to understand the people around them as well. Mediators are compassionate and nonjudgmental, always willing to hear another person’s story. When someone opens up to them or turns to them for comfort, they feel honored to listen and be of help.

Few things make Mediators more uneasy than pretending to be someone they aren’t. With their sensitivity and their commitment to authenticity, people with this personality type tend to crave opportunities for creative self-expression. They can’t help but muse about the meaning and purpose of life, dreaming up all sorts of stories, ideas, and possibilities along the way.

Like flowers in the spring, Mediators’ creativity and idealism can bloom even after the darkest of seasons. Although they know the world will never be perfect, Mediators still care about making it better however they can. This quiet belief in doing the right thing may explain why these personalities so often inspire compassion, kindness, and beauty wherever they go.

SIRONA RYAN*: The Protagonist (ENFJ) - Extraverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Judging

Thoughtful and idealistic, these personality types strive to have a positive impact on other people and the world around them. They rarely shy away from an opportunity to do the right thing, even when doing so is far from easy.

Protagonists are born leaders: their passion and charisma allow them to inspire others not just in their careers but in every arena of their lives, including their relationships. Few things bring Protagonists a deeper sense of joy and fulfillment than guiding friends and loved ones to grow into their best selves.

They tend to be vocal about their values, including authenticity and altruism. When something strikes them as unjust or wrong, they speak up. But they rarely come across as brash or pushy, as their sensitivity and insight guide them to speak in ways that resonate with others.

These personality types have an uncanny ability to pick up on people’s underlying motivations and beliefs. At times, they may not even understand how they come to grasp another person’s mind and heart so quickly. These flashes of insight can make Protagonists incredibly persuasive and inspiring communicators.

Protagonists are genuine, caring people who talk the talk and walk the walk. Nothing makes them happier than motivating other people to do what’s right.

*I know it’s a bit ironic that Sirona gets “The Protagonist” when she’s a tertiary character, hahaha. But I really see her as a very important member in the Hogsmeade community; seen as a leader figure by some. We have a lot of “if Sirona trusts them, I trust them too” moments in the game. So, that’s why.

POPPY SWEETING: The Campaigner (ENFP) - Extraverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Prospecting

Campaigners are true free spirits – outgoing, openhearted, and open-minded. With their lively, upbeat approach to life, they stand out in any crowd. But even though they can be the life of the party, Campaigners don’t just care about having a good time. These personality types run deep - as does their longing for meaningful, emotional connections with other people.

Friendly and outgoing, Campaigners are devoted to enriching their relationships and their social lives. But beneath their sociable, easygoing exteriors, they have rich, vibrant inner lives as well. Without a healthy dose of imagination, creativity, and curiosity, a Campaigner simply wouldn’t be a Campaigner. These personalities believe that everything and everyone is connected, and they live for the glimmers of insight that they can gain into these connections.

They are independent and creative, always on the lookout for the magic and meaning in everyday life. Campaigner personalities are capable of intense thought and feeling - and also of kicking back and having a good time.

Even in moments of fun, Campaigners want to connect emotionally with others. Few things matter more to these personality types than having genuine, heartfelt conversations with the people they cherish. Campaigners believe that everyone deserves to express their feelings, and their empathy and warmth create spaces where even the most timid spirits can feel comfortable opening up.

THE SENTINELS

DADDY AESOP SHARP*: The Logistician (ISTJ) - Introverted, Observant, Thinking, and Judging

These people tend to be reserved yet willful, with a rational outlook on life. They pride themselves on their integrity, compose their actions carefully and carry them out with methodical purpose. People with this personality type mean what they say, and when they commit to doing something, they make sure to follow through.

People with this personality type believe that there is a right way to proceed in any situation – and that anyone who pretends otherwise is probably trying to bend the rules to suit their own purposes. Logisticians have a deep respect for structure and tradition, and they are often drawn to organizations, workplaces, and educational settings that offer clear hierarchies and expectations.

People with the Logistician personality type rarely hesitate to take responsibility for their actions and choices. Generally speaking, they are quick to own up to their own mistakes, admitting the truth even if it doesn’t make them look good. To Logisticians, honesty is far more important than showmanship, and they’d rather satisfy their own conscience than lie to impress someone else.

At times, Logisticians might unfairly misjudge people who can’t match their rigorous self-control. Even if Logisticians don’t speak these judgments aloud, their disdain can come through regardless, earning them a reputation for being somewhat strict or unempathetic.

*the description of this personality type seems very fitting for an ex-auror to me haha

ANNE SALLOW: The Defender (ISFJ) - Introverted, Observant, Feeling, and Judging

In their unassuming, understated way, Defenders help make the world go round. Hardworking and devoted, people with this personality type feel a deep sense of responsibility to those around them. Defenders can be counted on to meet deadlines, remember birthdays and special occasions, and shower their loved ones with gestures of care and support. But they rarely demand recognition for all that they do, preferring instead to operate behind the scenes.

Though sensitive and caring, Defenders also have excellent analytical abilities and an eye for detail. And despite their reserve, they tend to have well-developed people skills and robust social relationships. They are true altruists, meeting kindness with kindness and engaging with the work and people they believe in with enthusiasm and generosity.

Among Defenders’ most distinctive traits is loyalty. Rare is the Defender who allows a friendship or relationship to fade away from lack of effort. People with this personality type are known for dropping everything and lending a hand whenever a friend or family member is going through a hard time. Defenders’ sense of loyalty doesn’t stop with their nearest and dearest - it often extends to their communities, their employers, and even family traditions.

For Defenders, “good enough” is rarely good enough. People with this personality type can be meticulous to the point of perfectionism. They take their responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond and doing everything that they can to exceed others’ expectations. Even then, they are known for their humility, and they rarely seek the spotlight.

Defenders have a deeply social nature. Thanks to their ability to remember the details of other people’s lives, Defenders have a special talent for making their friends and acquaintances feel seen, known, and cherished.

DINAH HECAT: The Executive (ESTJ) - Extraverted, Observant, Thinking, and Judging

Executives are representatives of tradition and order, utilizing their understanding of what is right, wrong and socially acceptable to bring families and communities together. Embracing the values of honesty, dedication and dignity, people with the Executive personality type are valued for their clear advice and guidance, and they happily lead the way on difficult paths.

Strong believers in the rule of law and authority that must be earned, Executive personalities lead by example, demonstrating dedication and purposeful honesty, and an utter rejection of laziness and cheating, especially in work.

Executives are aware of their surroundings and live in a world of clear, verifiable facts - the surety of their knowledge means that even against heavy resistance, they stick to their principles and push an unclouded vision of what is and is not acceptable. Their opinions aren’t just empty talk either, as Executives are more than willing to dive into the most challenging projects, improving action plans and sorting details along the way, making even the most complicated tasks seem easy and approachable.

MATILDA WEASLEY: The Consul (ESFJ) - Extraverted, Observant, Feeling, and Judging

They are attentive and people-focused, and they enjoy taking part in their social community. Their achievements are guided by decisive values, and they willingly offer guidance to others. People with this personality type form the bedrock of many communities, opening their homes – and their hearts – to friends, loved ones, and neighbors.

Consuls do believe in the power of hospitality and good manners, and they tend to feel a sense of duty to those around them. Generous and reliable, people with this personality type often take it upon themselves to hold their families and their communities together. They have a talent for making the people in their lives feel supported, cared for, and secure.

Consuls are altruists. They take seriously their responsibilities to give back, serve others, and do the right thing. And Consuls believe that there is a clear right thing to do in nearly every situation. While some personality types adopt a more lenient, live-and-let-live attitude, Consuls may find it difficult not to judge when someone takes a path that strikes them as misguided. They have a clear moral compass.

Consuls rarely miss a birthday or holiday. Devoted to their relationships, they commit even the smallest details of their friends’ and loved ones’ lives to memory. Loyal to the core, they build lasting relationships, and they can be counted on to show up whenever a helping hand - or a listening ear - is needed. They put a great deal of energy into making other people feel special and celebrated, and they may take it personally when someone doesn’t seem to appreciate their efforts.

For many people with the Consul personality type, one of life’s greatest challenges is accepting that they can’t control anyone else’s thoughts or behavior - not even those who are nearest and dearest to them.

THE EXPLORERS

AMIT THAKKAR: The Virtuoso (ISTP) - Introverted, Observant, Thinking, and Prospecting

They tend to have an individualistic mindset, pursuing goals without needing much external connection. They engage in life with inquisitiveness and personal skill, varying their approach as needed. They love to explore with their hands and their eyes, touching and examining the world around them with cool rationalism and spirited curiosity.

Virtuosos explore ideas through creating, troubleshooting, trial and error and first-hand experience. They enjoy having other people take an interest in their projects and sometimes don’t even mind them getting into their space. They enjoy lending a hand and sharing their experience, especially with the people they care about.

Virtuosos are actually quite enigmatic. Friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused, Virtuoso personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones.

The biggest issue Virtuosos are likely to face is that they often act too soon, taking for granted their permissive nature and assuming that others are the same. They’ll be the first to tell an insensitive joke, get overly involved in someone else’s project, roughhouse and play around, or suddenly change their plans because something more interesting came up.

ABRAHAM RONEN: The Adventurer (ISFP) - Introverted, Observant, Feeling, and Prospecting

Adventurers are true artists – although not necessarily in the conventional sense. For this personality type, life itself is a canvas for self-expression. From what they wear to how they spend their free time, Adventurers act in ways that vividly reflect who they are as unique individuals.

Driven by curiosity and eager to try new things, people with this personality often have a fascinating array of passions and interests. With their exploratory spirits and their ability to find joy in everyday life, Adventurers can be among the most interesting people you’ll ever meet. The irony? Unassuming and humble, Adventurers tend to see themselves as “just doing their own thing,” so they may not even realize how remarkable they really are.

Adventurers embrace a flexible, adaptable approach to life. Some personality types thrive on strict schedules and routines, but not Adventurers. They take each day as it comes, doing what feels right to them in the moment. And they make sure to leave plenty of room in their lives for the unexpected - with the result that many of their most cherished memories are of spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment outings and adventures, whether by themselves or with their loved ones.

This flexible mindset makes Adventurers remarkably tolerant and open-minded. These personalities genuinely love living in a world filled with all kinds of people - even people who disagree with them or choose radically different lifestyles. It’s no surprise, then, that Adventurers are unusually open to changing their minds and rethinking their opinions. If any personality type believes in giving something (or someone) a second chance, it’s Adventurers.

In their relationships, Adventurers are warm, friendly, and caring, taking wholehearted enjoyment in the company of their nearest and dearest. But make no mistake: this is an Introverted personality type, meaning that Adventurers need dedicated alone time to recharge their energy after socializing with others. This alone time is what allows Adventurers to reestablish a sense of their own identity - in other words, to reconnect with who they truly are.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: The Entrepreneur (ESTP) - Extraverted, Observant, Thinking, and Prospecting

Entrepreneurs always have an impact on their immediate surroundings. Laughing and entertaining with a blunt humor, Entrepreneur personalities love to be the center of attention. They keep their conversations energetic, with a good dose of intelligence.

Entrepreneurs are the likeliest personality type to make a lifestyle of risky behavior. They live in the moment and dive into the action - they are the eye of the storm. Entrepreneurs leap before they look, fixing their mistakes as they go, rather than sitting idle, preparing contingencies and escape clauses. They are good making critical decisions based on factual, immediate reality in a process of rapid-fire rational stimulus response.

To Entrepreneurs, it makes more sense to use their own moral compass than someone else’s: rules were made to be broken. This is a sentiment few high school instructors or corporate supervisors are likely to share, and can earn Entrepreneur personalities a certain reputation. But if they minimize the trouble-making, harness their energy, and focus through the boring stuff, Entrepreneurs are a force to be reckoned with.

With perhaps the most perceptive, unfiltered view of any type, Entrepreneurs have a unique skill in noticing small changes. Whether a shift in facial expression, a new clothing style, or a broken habit, people with this personality type pick up on hidden thoughts and motives where most types would be lucky to pick up anything specific at all. They use these observations immediately, calling out the change and asking questions, often with little regard for sensitivity

They are full of passion and energy, complemented by a rational mind. Inspiring and convincing, they are natural group leaders, pulling everyone along the path less traveled, bringing excitement everywhere they go. But they enjoy the drama, the passion, the pleasure: if they aren’t careful, they may get too caught in the moment, take things too far, and run roughshod over more sensitive people - or forget to take care of their own health and safety.

GARRETH WEASLEY: The Entertainer (ESFP) - Extraverted, Observant, Feeling, and Prospecting

These people love vibrant experiences, engaging in life eagerly and taking pleasure in discovering the unknown. They can be very social, often encouraging others into shared activities. Entertainers get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too. No other personality type is as generous with their time and energy as Entertainers when it comes to encouraging others, and no other personality type does it with such irresistible style.

Utterly social, Entertainers enjoy the simplest things, and there’s no greater joy for them than just having fun with a good group of friends. They love the spotlight, and all the world’s a stage.

Though it may not always seem like it, Entertainers know that it’s not all about them - they are observant, and very sensitive to others’ emotions. People with this personality type are often the first to help someone talk out a challenging problem, happily providing emotional support and practical advice. However, if the problem is about them, Entertainers are more likely to avoid a conflict altogether than to address it head-on. They usually love a little drama and passion, but not so much when they are the focus of the criticisms it can bring.

Entertainers recognize value and quality, which on its own is a fine trait. They also have the strongest aesthetic sense of any personality type: knowing what’s attractive the moment they see it, Entertainers aren’t afraid to change their surroundings to reflect their personal style. Entertainers are naturally curious, exploring new designs and styles with ease.

They are welcome wherever there’s a need for laughter, playfulness, and a volunteer to try something new and fun - and there’s no greater joy for Entertainer personalities than to bring everyone else along for the ride. Entertainers can chat for hours, sometimes about anything but the topic they meant to talk about, and share their loved ones’ emotions through good times and bad.

[sourdoughsourness]

Assignment - Shigaraki x Cheerleader!reader chapter two

Part one:

“Are you going to tell Bakugou?” Mina asked, turning to face you after fixing her lipstick. 

To be honest you hadn't thought about it yet. You knew how your boyfriend could be and the last thing you wanted was him teasing you about it. That's assuming he didn't just freak out and go after Shigaraki. Either way, now that you were thinking about it it didn't sound like a good idea.

“No.” You answered. your bag dropped to the floor so you could go through it to find your lip gloss. The shiny black ink on your hand made you wince. your skin still tingled making you want to cut off your hand to stop it. You couldn't believe a creep like him was able to ruin your day so quickly. 

Mina finished applying her lipstick and turned back to you. “Why not? Afraid he'll be jealous of your new boyfriend?” she giggled. You sent a glare her way. That was not an image you needed in your mind. 

“Because,” you defended. “You really think Swanson would dare do anything that might piss Shigaraki off? Besides, I messed up that last assignment and the last thing I need is another low score. If I miss our cheer competition because of stupid grades I think I'd actually just lose it.” 

You placed your lip gloss back in your bag finally satisfied with the application as you explained. The project only took a few weeks, that was doable. Missing your competition however? Not an option. 

Mina grabbed your hand suddenly, Raising it up to your face and shaking it. “But that creep wrote on you! Just look at your hand. it’s like he marked you as his next victim. That's so fucked.” 

“I get it!” You snapped, pulling your hand away. “We know he's a creep. We've Both heard all the rumors, but that doesn't mean Bakugou has to know! If you're this mad I don't want to imagine him. Please just drop it Mina.” 

“I don't want some freak messing with my bestie. He's probably going to stalk you nonstop now. Next thing you know he'll be sitting outside your house with binoculars. This is weird (Y/N) and I don't like it at all.” 

You wanted to appreciate Mina for sticking up for you, you really did, but you just didn't want to think about it, about him, anymore. 

Your conversation was interrupted by the bathroom door opening. Oh. It was her. Great. One of the only people who would interact with Shigaraki. Just your luck. You weren't even sure what her name was and honestly you didn't care. Mina watched the girl skip into the stall not even bothering to hide her disgust. 

You may be an asshole sometimes, but at least you hid it. Mina was unfortunately very open about her distaste for anyone she deemed a loser. Your boyfriend was similar, even worse in some cases. 

Shigaraki was somehow both a mystery and very infamous in your school. Everyone pretty much steered clear of him since he got away with basically everything. Pissing him off was not a good idea and deep down you knew Bakugou would make everything so much worse if he found out about your interaction. You sighed and slung your bag over your shoulders hoping Mina was ready to go. all you wanted was to sit, have lunch, and pretend Mr. Swanson’s class never happened.

Mina grabbed her bag to follow you, luckily not saying another word about Shigaraki. You dreaded the thought of the girl overhearing and reporting back to him or something. 

“Creep,” Mina said under her breath as you walked out. 

“I still think you should tell Bakugou.” You were starting to lose your patience. Why couldn't she just drop it? How many more ways did you have to say no for her to understand? 

“Drop it Mina. I am not going to tell him.” You snapped. “And you better not tell him either!” Now Mina looked about as annoyed as you felt and you almost regretted your words. 

Your best friend turned away and started walking into the direction of the cafeteria. 

“Mina come on, you can't seriously be mad about this” you called after her.

“Whatever,” Your friend shot back. “You know he's just going to keep up the stalker trap if he knows he'll get away with it.”

You almost felt guilty as you watched her pink hair disappear into the cafeteria, but you held back. If you apologized now she'd probably take that as a go ahead to tell Bakugou. 

Regret filled you as you looked down at your hand again. You should have never told her. An excuse would have worked, or you could have never mentioned it at all, but it was too late now. Mina was your best friend and you didn't want to keep secrets, but sometimes she complicated things. 

You sighed in defeat. The now completely empty hallway gave you at least a little privacy to be mad at yourself. God damnit why were you so stupid sometimes. the numbers on your hand stared back at you, mocking you. You glared back wishing the numbers disappeared, or better yet, we're never there in the first place. That thought sent you turning and walking right back into the bathroom. 

The sink water was almost too hot, but you kept scrubbing furiously. Your hand felt so dirty and you were so angry. The black ink slowly slid down the drain, finally tainted something other than you. You didn't stop until your hand was free of every single bit of ink. 

----

At practice you missed a jump. You never missed jumps. 

At the end of a round-off, back handspring, back tuck, you overrotated and had to catch yourself with your heels. You hit the gymnasium floor. Hard. Landing straight on your ass, your teeth rattled and embarrassment flooded you. 

Your coach lectured you and turned it into another one of her ‘don't tumble without someone spotting you' lecture. She'd been lecturing you guys a lot more lately with the competition coming up soon. You had to be the best. There was no way you'd still be able to place with a hurt squad member. Going up against the best schools meant you had to be the best too. There was absolutely no room for error.

Mina, unsurprisingly left in a hurry the second practice was over. You weren't sure whether she was still mad at you or just wanted to catch up to Eijiro. Today though you didn't mind. No Mina meant no rehashing the argument from earlier. Thank god it was Friday, you really needed the break. 

It was a huge relief that there wasn't another game for a week. It would give the already purpleing bruise on your thigh time To heal before you'd be wearing the uniform. 

You left the gym locker rooms and took your usual route through the school to get to the front parking lot, but slowed when you heard what sounded like Bakugou's voice. Did you take too long in the locker room? Was he looking for you?

“Talk to her again. Do you understand??” 

You turned the corner and immediately halted. This wasn't good.

There your boyfriend was. His bulky frame towering over the scrawny figure of Shigaraki. A wave of dread passed over you. Shigaraki was Shoved against the lockers, held there by your boyfriend whose black and orange letter jacket made him look even bulkier. Despite the very obvious strength difference, Shigaraki still glared up through his long blue hair. 

Anger coursed through you. Was Bakugou insane? Sure he could take Shigaraki in a physical fight any day, but everyone knew not to mess with him for a reason. 

“Hey!” You yelled marching in their direction. 

Shigaraki's cold eyes snapped to you. He glared accusingly. He blamed you for this and that thought was terrifying. You stopped dead in your tracks. His eyes had so much hatred behind them it seemed to envelope you.

You wanted nothing more in that moment to strangle Mina. She had to have said something and that pissed you off. 

“What's going on?”

“Nothing baby, absolutely nothing,” Bakugou responded, giving Shigaraki one last glare before pushing off the lockers. He ran a hand through his spiky blond hair, still wet from the showers. 

He walked over to meet you, slinging his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close, and making a big show of kissing your cheek. You could tell it was more than just a show of affection by the way he smirked, glancing back at Shigaraki. You wanted no part of this pissing contest. 

Shigaraki rolled his eyes at the display before him before once again meeting your eyes with a piercing gaze. You desperately wanted to look away but found yourself unable to. 

Was he going to retaliate? Did he blame you for telling Bakugou? Just how much shit did your best friend and boyfriend get you in? You didn't think you'd ever get used to Shigaraki's gaze. You knew you didn't tell Bakugou, but Shigaraki had no way of knowing and really, what was he supposed to think? 

You opened your mouth to speak, not even knowing what you could possibly say in this moment. An apology didn't feel right. Not to mention that would probably set off Bakugou even more. But before any words could spill out Bakugou's grip on your shoulder tightened. The sudden movement mixed with Bakugou's signature caramel cologne snapped you back to reality giving you the ability to finally look away from those eyes. 

Bakugou was still very much in ‘possessive boyfriend mode’ and still in reach of the lanky figure who, just earlier, had asked you what you were staring at, yet was now staring at you.  

You closed your mouth. There was simply nothing you could say. You didn't protest when Bakugou started leading you away. He then lowered his hand to grope your ass. Another pathetic sign of possession.

“Don't,” you warned, but kept moving. In that moment you would do anything to get away from those eyes.

[cilis-readings]

general advice pac reading

reminder: these are very general readings. messages can be picked from each pile and apply to you and your current situation. take what resonates, leave what doesn’t :)

pile 1

you may be feeling like you’re wasting your time, this could be because you’ve been procrastinating more than usual lately. you see that this cycle of procrastination leads to no rewards and not recognition, it’s time to change. redefine what progress looks like to you. it doesn’t have to be some major thing, it could be small tasks that you’ve been putting off. that’s still getting something done! this bout of procrastination could have been brought on by straining yourself too much. bearing the weight of everyone’s responsibilities isn’t right or fair to you. overextending yourself and ignoring your boundaries for other peoples comfort and happiness isn’t okay. you can ask for assistance when you need it, just like you can say no if someone is asking too much of you or putting too much on your plate. try to remain objective and fair in everything that you do. be sure to hold yourself and others accountable as well.

pile 2

you might be feeling like you’re in constant competition with yourself and your ego. if this is the case, then it’s time to hone in on a collective vision. something that you and the people around you all stand for. be sure to leave room for constructive criticism when it’s needed, shutting down anything you deem offensive to you can lead you down a path of ignoring everything anyone says to you. don’t try to cling to control. trying to remain in control of everything causes us to go round and round in circles. external circumstances are always there, always testing us and our patience. we need to know what we can control versus what we have no control over. knowing this will open doors for us that will allow us to find partnerships, be it romantic or platonic, these partnerships will bring us what we need to further our development!

pile 3

there seems to be an imbalance in your life that’s causing disharmony and conflict. try to figure out the source of this imbalance and figure out how to restore balance back into your life! this will get rid of the disharmony and conflict bit by bit. you may have to take a step back from relationships and friendships in order to do this, withdrawing from these connections will give you the chance to introspect and search for the wisdom you need to make these changes for yourself. once you’ve established what you need to grow, it’s time to build that foundation! be ambitious about what you need to do, this will leave a lasting impact on yourself and your future relationships as well. even though you’re working on changing yourself for the better, you should still honor the past. even past versions of yourself are deserving of love.

if you’d like a more in depth reading i offer paid readings here!! i also have a tip jar if you’re feeling kind,, tips are not expected but they are very appreciated! any feedback is appreciated as well, i hope this reading was helpful to you in one way or another :)

[pokemoncaretips]

The mareanie line.

Not exactly a beginner pokemon.

General notes: The Mareanie line is a largely solitary one, and requires a fair amount of maintenance. Bear in mind that some regions don't allow them to be kept due to biosecurity reasons.

General care: A mareanie needs a big tank, around 50 galleons minimum, with a toxapex requiring double that. Though it can leave the water for periods of time, it does need clean, salinated water with a stable pH of around 8.1 to 8.3. The tank will require good filtration set up, as for reasons I will get into shortly, you can't keep a cloyster with it to filter.

They are purely carnivores, and require feeder pokemon. Though they will eat anything they can get their hands on, they really should be kept away from human food in general.

Mareanie and toxapex MUST be kept as solitary pokemon. This is not negotiable. For many wealthy people it's a flex to keep a truly massive tank with as lifelike a biome as possible, and many have made the mistake of adding a mareanie to their ecosystem, and a few days later they have no other water pokemon and a much larger mareanie. Even keeping your mareanie and your corsola in separate tanks is asking for trouble, as they manage quite well on land and will simply crawl out of theirs and into the now doomed corsola's tank. Bruxish in particular should be kept away, as they will attack each other and the odds are slightly against the mareanie line, putting both pokemon at risk of injury.

In the case of limb loss, don't panic. These regrow. Just provide extra food to offset the calorie cost of regenerating the limb.

In general, the entire line are solitary, and though they can get comfortable and relaxed around their trainers, they tend to be standoffish with the rest of the team. It's common for smaller gyms holding tournaments to set up a function afterwards where pokemon and trainers can mingle and enjoy snacks as a way of building camaraderie and encouraging sportsmanship, and I recommend just filling a poochy bag with pokemon snacks and taking your mareanie or toxapex home, as it will likely park itself over a plate of whatever it likes and bite anyone trying to take it away.

This pokemon must be monitored at all times, and ideally you should look into getting a tracking tag applied. If it escapes into the wild it could cause devastating effects on the local ecosystem if mareanie aren't already native to where you are. As mentioned, some regions flatly ban this line from being kept. Keep your tank secure and maintained at all times.

A warm water species, this pokemon does require a lot of upkeep and maintenance, and isn't for beginner keepers. However, it is unfussy with its diet and fairly sturdy. Toxapex in particular can withstand slightly colder conditions by trapping its body heat. Care rating: Orange

Training: Though a difficult keeper, this line is frequently kept due to its useful moves and abilities, being a champion of the "toxic stall" strategy. A well trained toxapex is a defensive tank. As such, you'll likely come across them often, or if you aim for the big leagues, may even want one. They can be tricky to work with, particularly teaching them the difference between a hunting bite and a battling bite. They will need to be trained on dummies before you can send them up against other pokemon. A pokemon who has killed another pokemon in a fight is banned from battling permanently, so getting this right is VITAL.

Luckily, this pokemon is food orientated, so a bag of goldeen minnows and some patience will gradually break through those instincts.

This line has a dangerous combination of stubbornness, hunting instincts and not being the brightest. If you want one of those award winning toxapex, there's a long struggle ahead of you. Training rating: Red

Safety: A rather nasty poison type, this is a pokemon that requires careful handling. Mareanie poison is milder but still uncomfortable, causing itching to the injury site and numbness to the surrounding limb. On rare occasions people may have an allergy, causing shortness of breath and a blue tinge to the skin. Toxapex spines are MUCH more dangerous, especially as they can be fired. This venom causes severe joint pain and swelling, and can last for up to three days without treatment. Allergic reactions to toxapex have proved fatal in the past.

I cannot state strongly enough how dangerous this pokemon is for small children and people with health issues. Safety rating: Red

Overall ranking. Though a famous defensive wall, this pokemon needs a LOT of work and care, and can be lethally dangerous is not respected. I recommend this pokemon for expert poison type trainers only.

[kiefbowl]

Hi, so I’ve read your posts where you’ve given tips on how to be successful during an interview. And I was wondering if you could give me some advice on how to get a raise at my current job? I’ve been there for 2 and 1/2 years, I’ve doubled the amount of projects that I’ve been assigned to (started off with 3, now 6 projects and helping with 2 other programs as well) but I’ve never gotten more than a 2% raise over the last two years and that’s mandated by the university. When I’ve asked about moving up to a higher role, I’ve been told to be patient. But… I don’t think I can be patient anymore… and I found out that 2 people who’ve been there less than a year are getting a possible 10-20k jump in their salary. I’m going crazy, and I need some help if you have any guidance :(

Working at a university I think might be a little different than out in retail or in a corporate job, but some of this advice might apply. I'm just thinking of my university, which was public and got government grants, and I don't really understand all that beyond that, so there might be some stipulations about how to pay workers. In any case, I think this is a great question and hopefully it can help you and others out.

When asking for a raise, you are asking to enter a negotiation, which to be the aggressor can have some upside. You basically get to start the conversation by stating plainly what you want, and what you're willing to do to get it, and what you'll do if you don't get it. The finesse is making sure you're arguing for things that align for the person who holds what you want. You can imagine that if you go to your boss and say "I want 100K more a year, I want to do nothing about it, and if you don't give it to me I'll set my house on fire" they'll just be like "uhm, what does this have to do with me." Find the common ground between your interests, and theirs.

It's well understood by people who hire and manage people that hiring is more expensive than retaining talent, so the big token you have in your court is that you'll leave. The rub is of course people don't know how to leverage this, because in their heart it's an empty threat. Finding another job can be hard, and you don't want to put yourself in a situation where you're trading down because you didn't get what you want at one job so you took a different, suckier job. So, you have to harden your heart, and make sure when you talk about it, it's not an empty threat. One way to do this is to have a job offer already, which means patience as you job hunt. Another way to do this is to be confident that you could get a better job, and not be specific when you'll leave, but signal to them you will when you can. "I know my skill set is valuable" can be said in very casual, polite, professional, and pointed way to get your meaning across. Now that confidence shouldn't come from pure delusion (which, it doesn't have to, most people have things they're good at and are valuable!), but you do have to sit down and have a good think. What are your transferable skills and what are your billable skills, in tangible specific ways. "I'm good at customer service" is not specific, anyone can learn that - "I resolve my tickets within SLA 90% of the time" is specific. "I know how to write" is not specific, that could mean anything - "I've been creating and updating our knowledge base articles" is specific. "I work in marketing" is not specific, that just says where you work - "I designed the 2022 social media campaign that brought in 2% more business" is specific. Now, maybe these examples don't relate to what you do or sound a higher level of work that you do, but don't be discouraged, this is just creative framing. A social media intern could make a couple tik toks and do that last one, hopefully they have the insight to the data to make the claim that it increased business. The creative framing comes from understanding what your job wants from you. What is it doing? What does it make? What does it supply? How does it make revenue? For a university, I'm not sure how much it's tied into direct revenue for itself, depending on your department, but it does ultimately fit into the infrastructure of how the university makes revenue, so think about what your department is supplying to the university.

If you help manage an onslaught of freshman ding dongs who don't know their ass from their head (said affectionately) who barge in with complaints and questions, you handle "intake" so that your uppers in your department can focus on other efficiencies. If you serve food at a food court, your speed and efficiency equals faster lines which equals faster turn over which equals more students which equals more money (just like any restaurant). Any industry, anywhere in the hierarchy, a worker can frame what they do in these kinds of terms to make negotiation easier and really point blank: please give me x amount more, if you don't you lose abc from me because I will leave. I'm willing to wait y months/train a replacement/work more hours/work fewer hours/nothing more because I deserve this because I know so-and-so and what's his name over there make that much and I do the same job/etc.

Good luck! :)

[godshivered]

in your opinion/hc how would ptsd!melissa handle being triggered at work?

ok sorry for getting to this so late - i've been thinking about this and...

melissa schemmenti will go above and beyond to hide a flashback or panic attack. comfort feels a lot like pity to her; accommodations are embarrassing. even with people she trusts (like barbara), she tries very hard not to let her symptoms show -- especially since barbara will be sweet, and that'll make melissa cry, and melissa doesn't want to worry any of her kids or spark any whispers among her coworkers. her first reaction is to internalize/dissociate during a flashback at work, to keep it all in her head.

(of course, melissa's emotions are all over her face so she can only hide it so well. she'll usually come off a bit more irritable or jumpy -- she gets into arguments more easily -- she has a bit less patience for rowdy students, but she never takes it out on them. she'll usually shift her class schedule, introduce some quiet time or craft activities. worst case scenario, she lets ashley work her magic and distract the classroom while she excuses herself.)

if she has some free time between classes, or during lunch, she'll find a quiet place to catch up on grading. this gives her something to focus on, some busywork where she can curl up in a comforting posture and slow her mind. if you were to look over her shoulder (which she doesn't let anyone do; she'd shut her book and glare up at you until you walk past) you'd probably find anxious scribbly sketches or chicken-scratch to-do lists in the margins. she breaks a pencil or two when it's bad -- she gets a tense hand, applies a bit too much pressure.

if she doesn't have free time and has to excuse herself, there's a few places she'll go. it's easiest (and most deniable) to slip into the restroom and climb up on the back of a toilet -- tie her hair up off her sticky neck and tuck her head between her legs, because she gets dizzy and sick when it gets bad. she'll wait out the cold sweats, the ear-ringing, until she feels she's taken too long and freshens herself up in the mirror.

if it gets really bad, she'll step outside -- sometimes out by the garden barbara and jacob are working on, sometimes just anywhere. just so long as she can hear the traffic noise, feel the wind against her skin, brace against the biting cold or the stirring heat. extremes help to ground her. plus, if she's really alone and out of sight, she can shake out her hands or slam her fists back against the brick wall or cry, and no one will see.

best case scenario, if barbara isn't in the middle of class, melissa will step into the kindergarten classroom -- barbara has given her permission to use her coveted class restroom. melissa will lock the door and turn off the light and turn on the humming bathroom fan, and no one can hear her labored breathing -- no one will know where to find her. she can cry her mascara into her knees and shred a paper towel into a thousand tiny pieces, and there's this spot between the sink and the wall where she can cram herself tight and it feels like her childhood closet and it presses her chest just tight enough to break the balloon of tension -- and she can breathe. if barbara walks into her classroom and the bathroom door is shut, she says nothing -- just sits at her desk and busies herself with paperwork, until melissa walks out and offers a weak smile of gratitude.

(sometimes, she'll talk to barbara about it. it's easier to talk about it once she's gotten the tears out -- once she remembers how to be herself and not a scared little shadow she doesn't recognize in the mirror. sometimes, they'll talk about anything else, and melissa will lean against barbara's desk and barbara will look at her with the usual regard, respect, like nothing happened. sometimes, melissa will ask if they can grab dinner, and barbara will drop everything to go get comfort food with her. that's the absolute best case scenario, for both of them.)

[the-haunted-office]

I have updated the "Stuff I am not comfortable roleplaying" section of my rules. Please have a look, and let me know if you have questions!

Please note: The section I added about "my muses being in inauthentic relationships" is not due to anything anyone has recently done. I felt I needed to say this because I didn't want anyone getting the idea that they had. It's something that has happened in the past, and I don't want for it to happen again because of how this dynamic was abused. It unfortunately created a negative experience for me that I don't wish to repeat. What it boils down to is communication between you and me - that is literally all it takes for me to be okay with the dynamic. Thank you for your patience and understanding!

⭐ Stuff I am NOT comfortable with roleplaying

Let me preface this by stating that I do understand the separation of fiction and reality. I understand that fiction is a place where people may safely explore themes that wouldn’t be okay to do in real life and that it does not reflect who you are as a person. However, the below subjects are personal icks for me, so I’d like to avoid roleplaying them. You may roleplay them on your blog and I have no issue with seeing it on my dash. That is all fine. It’s just that I personally am not interested in roleplaying these topics with my muses, and I appreciate the mutual respect in this matter. Thank you!

Smut. I am not really into rping smutty stuff. Suggestive or dirty humor, implying things, flirting, mentioning it, saying it happened, asking questions about my muses’ sex lives (like in inbox ask meme games), and suchlike is all fine - just nothing overly explicit, please. I don’t mind other people rping smut and following those who do or seeing it on my dash; I am just uncomfortable rping it myself. If in any case an rp starts going in that direction, I’ll have it fade to black or skip ahead.

Excessive violence towards children. It’s okay if it’s part of a muse’s past, and in threads I am also okay with some angst and general childhood things like skinned knees and the like. But I am not comfortable rping actual threads where there is excessive harm being done towards children. Also, it should go without saying, but anything of the pedophilic nature will be absolutely, 100% not tolerated and will result in an instant block if it’s even suggested.

Abusive relationships. Enemies to lovers type relationships don't fall under this category to me - it is specifically when one partner is harming the other with no healing or remorse in sight. It’s when the party/ies are enjoying hurting one another and the other clearly isn’t enjoying it is when it becomes abuse to me and when it makes me uncomfortable. Again, you do you, I have nothing against that, we’re all good, it’s just something I’m not interested in rping myself.

My muses being in inauthentic relationships WITHOUT MY CONSENT. This doesn’t necessarily apply to romantic relationships - this is speaking of ALL kinds of relationships, including and especially friendships. This dynamic unfortunately has been sprung on me and my muses ad nauseam, especially with Thursday, to the point where I am not really interested in tolerating this any longer. This is referring to relationships where your muse doesn’t actually consider mine their friend - they are only calling them a friend for ulterior motives, to use them, because they need them for something, etc. Please, no more of this, unless we talk it over extensively in advance and it’s something we both 100% agree on. My consent is the key here. I do not mind doing plots and muse dynamics where there is a disingenuous relationship between your muse and mine - it’s that I do not like when it is presented as a genuine friendship at first, only for my writing partner to turn around later and tell me “Oh no, my muse doesn’t actually like yours, they’re just using them,” or for their muse’s actions to show something completely different. At that point I consider the relationship abusive and being done under the table to boot, so I will likely be coming into your DMs to talk about it.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi sex witch,

so I recently got my first vibrator and unfortunately I feel like it’s a lot harder for me to use than it “should” be? For one thing I have a hard time finding my clit, and also when I did manage to get it I started feeling this building tension in my legs/vaginal area and I know that was probably an orgasm building but it just felt weird for some reason. do you have any advice for this (both having a hard time finding my clit consistently and also getting over whatever it is that makes me not lean into an orgasm)?

hi anon,

congrats on the first vibrator! that's exciting.

let's start with the matter of locating your clit. that's a matter that can be pretty easily remedied by getting some hands-on familiarity with the area, which isn't even a euphemism. go touch yourself. strategically position a mirror if you must. there's genuinely not that much going on around the average vulva; locating the external clitoris and its protective hood is just a matter of going looking for it and applying a bit of patience.

speaking of which, it's fine if you aren't always landing directly on the clitoris on the first try, maybe even preferable. sex isn't about lunging straight for the most sensitive body part available and button mashing until an orgasm happens! (I mean, for most people. if anyone is reading this that prefers that, I mean no offense.) indeed, packed with nerve endings as it is, your poor clitoris might become rapidly overstimulated if you spend too much time touching it directly - especially if its unaccustomed to the intensity if a vibrator.

that may be what you're running into here when you're not, as you phrased it, leaning into an orgasm: more intensity than your body is accustomed to, causing discomfort even if it's sexy in theory. listen, it happens to the best of us. I'm jacking off more or less constantly, but I still almost got knocked on my ass by a particular toy I acquired recently because I wasn't prepared for how hard it was gonna hit my clit.

fortunately, there are many ways to circumnavigate this! you may find it helpful to place thin layers between your genitals and vibrator make the effect slightly less intense (wearing your underwear may be helpful here, or creative use of a sheet or blanket), or just using your vibe to quickly get yourself up to the edge of climax before finishing yourself off with your hands.

your body is adjusting to something very new and presumably much more intense than anything it's ever experienced before (unless you have some kind of jackhammer in hands, in which case. good for you). give yourself time to acclimate!

[daughter0fslaughter]

Rules, Regulations and Things to Know

i - No tolerance for NSFW requests, dms, or asks.

Heavily NSFW requests or asks will be completely ignored, and blocks will be handed out. Moderately suggestive asks and requests will be selective, but there will never be anything explicit released on here.

ii - Relationships and Orin

Orin will not be publicly watered down under any circumstance.

It is also very important to note that my Orin is a victim of CSA and SA.

If you are looking for an "easier to handle" Orin, she will only be available in PMs and requires significant backstory behind it.

Nothing is instant. Orin is complicated and difficult, and views everyone as beneath her. She is also extremely paranoid. Time and effort is needed to develop anything meaningful with Orin.

The more someone is exposed to Orin, the higher their risk of slaughter.

OOC - Orin will NEVER kill without the other writer's permission. In case where a writer does not feel comfortable killing their muse at the end of an interaction with Orin, they will instead be left gravely wounded. A PM will be sent, indicating that Orin is actively seeking to slaughter them in the coming responses.

ii a: Platonic relationships Platonic relationships are not gender-locked. Orin is a Bad Friend. Orin requires a lot of patience and is highly unlikely to extend that same privilege to her "friend". Orin is Chaotic Evil. There will be very, very few times she slows down even at a "friend's" request. It is very likely that despite viewing X as a "friend", Orin may become competitive and/or deeply possessive. Being Orin's "friend" lowers the chance of slaughter, but it is not 0%. Orin will keep secrets until it directly benefits her to leak them, though that is unlikely to happen. Orin will not share secrets. Attempts to encourage her are fine, but she may get irritated quickly. Orin's advice will most likely be complete garbage, intentionally or not. Orin's priorities will not change for her "friend". If Bhaal disapproves of a friend, Orin will drop them immediately, likely seeking to kill them in his name. This only applies to those actively working against Bhaal and his cult, and those attempting to sway / distract Orin. This is not a guaranteed thing whatsoever, and will only be brought out in extreme cases.

ii b: Romantic relationships Romantic relationships are gender-locked. Orin is a lesbian. Orin is an abusive partner. Orin often confuses the rush of the kill with the rush of being in love. This can complicate things, and she oftentimes struggles to differentiate the two. It is not unusual for Orin to be violent towards her beloved, but the risk is significantly reduced. Orin is neglectful. Orin can be verbally abusive. Orin is unlikely to change for her beloved. Orin, while unlikely to share secrets, may do so on occasion. Orin will eventually become deeply obsessive over her beloved. Orin can be kind, somewhat gentle, and thoughtful - it is not impossible nor necessarily rare. It is important to note that those are all by her standards. Orin may be vulnerable with her beloved - this will only increase her obsession, but it is a display of affection and trust. Orin will slaughter anyone and anything at her beloved's request - no questions asked, no limitations. If Bhaal disapproves of her beloved, she will most likely ditch them, yet refrain from slaughtering them unless commanded to. This is also situational and in extreme cases. An example of this would be her beloved encouraging her to part from Bhaals influence and seek another path in life. Orin will be punished for not disregarding it immediately and be made to split with them. This will only occur if precautions were not taken beforehand. Orin is not against the idea of marriage. Orin is monogamous.Orin has little to no interest in children. She is not against the idea of having any of her own but has absolutely zero plans for that. The closer Orin is bonded to her beloved, the chance of slaughter / harm is reduced significantly. Orin expects her beloved to view being murdered by her as an honour, should it ever happen. If Orin discovers that her beloved is in friendly relations with The Dark Urge, she will feel absolute betrayal, and slaughter them.

ii c: Dark Urge and Orin Orin will never be cordial or friendly towards the Dark Urge. She will be polite/neutral towards other Bhaalspawns, but the Dark Urge is excluded from this. Romantic relations between Orin and Dark Urge will NOT be tolerated under any circumstances and you will be blocked immediately. Do not ask for Orin to be kind towards a Dark Urge, regardless of their personality after amnesia.

iii - Communication is Key

If you are writing with Orin, please communicate beforehand what you are comfortable with and what you are uncomfortable with. It is also encouraged that you tell me the moment you become uncomfortable too.

Feel free to tell me... What you want to avoid What you aim to get out of the interaction if it is specific What you would like Orin to refrain from doing. If I cannot meet your conditions, then a compromise will be suggested or the thread will be ended and/or scrapped.

It is likely that I will only refuse a compromise if it goes against integral parts of Orin's character, and all of that has been noted above.

iv - Duplicates and exclusivity

I have no ill feelings towards duplicates whatsoever but it is unlikely that I will engage first (shy). I do not look at other Orin pages or responses because I love my personal Orin shaped bubble. I would like to be friends with other Orin writers!

It is very unlikely for me to dedicate Orin to another writer's portrayal of a character.

v - Universe and Interactions

Each writer that interacts with Orin will have their own universe created upon the first post.

Universes will be categorised by their own unique tag.

What happens in one writers universe does not affect what happens in another writers universe. All universes are open to other character influences unless specified otherwise.

Solo scenes without a unique universe tag can be considered entirely personal works.

vi - General behaviour and expectations

Please do not be rude or passive aggressive to me, as I will not be to you.

Please do not be explicit with me, nor expect it from Orin.

Please be respectful towards my interpretation of Orin - if you do not like how I write her, please just kindly move on and mute the blog.

Please contact me if you feel that I am misrepresenting something (particularly mental illnesses and conditions) so that I can make immediate amendments going forward.

I am not the type to make indirect posts (or any OOC posts for that matter), so if you feel like something is directed towards you in a negative way, it is not.

I have dyslexia and I struggle with the grammatical structure of sentences sometimes. Please be patient with me!

Orin is my special boobookeys meowmeow and I would die for her on the spot. Please do not come to me with any grievances you have about her, especially if it is with the intent to piss me off. I don't react to that kind of thing, and it is just a waste of time for the both of us.

I provide reason for Orin's actions, not excuses. Please do not assume that because I write and adore Orin that I align with her beliefs and actions.

I joke often about Orin "just being silly". Do not take that seriously.

vii - Personal preferences

Favourite characters to write Orin with:

Shadowheart

Minthara

Jaheira

Mizora

Dame Aylin ( + Isobel)

Bhaalspawn

Will be highly picky about writing with:

Astarion

Halsin

Sarevok - (Extremely low chance of writing with, sorry!)

Any Durge

viii - About me!

My name is Azula, I'm 23 years old, I'm a recent grad from a concept art course and going into a masters for marketing and merchandising. I'd like to think I'm approachable so please feel free to HMU on my personal blog ( 0rinthered) or twitter (effieglasss (main) / 0rinthered (bg3))!

viiii - EXTRAS

This entire post is subject to change at any given point, but an update post will be made about it.

(Proceed with caution)

My Orin is a victim of CSA and SA. She was generally severely abused in childhood, so please keep these things in mind. They are highly unlikely to come up in writing / discussions, but they exist and a warning will be given beforehand (both OOC in PMs and as a spoiler IC).

[webbedphantom]

I've been seeing a lot of those "End of 2023" memes around, but a lot of what I'd send in for those applies to like... Most of my mutuals, so I'll just make a separate post instead.

When I first started this account, it was pretty much just so I could write with one person. I threw the idea around of using it more often, but it took me a while to really even consider the idea.

Then when I actually started using it for real, I was terrified. Starting out on Twitter with this bizarre mashup character was incredibly difficult. Hardly anyone gave me a chance, and I had to build up a respectable following before most would give me the time of day.

But now, I can only think of a couple of times when I've had more fun writing... ever. And both of those cases were with one specific partner, whereas here, it's nearly every thread I have. Everyone here has been so accepting and patient with me, far more than I ever could've expected.

Like Twitter is insanely rough on OCs and AUs, at least in my experience. It takes a ton of work, effort, and patience to get anywhere, and most of the time you are not rewarded for your efforts, which is a great way to kill your muse on a project.

And the character limit is KILLER. Especially with the way I write things. I am long winded as hell, and I'd often write like 4-7 full tweets per reply. And if you make a mistake, too bad. Pay money to fix it or suck it up.

All in all, I have really enjoyed my time here, far more than I ever expected to. And a lot of you guys are the reason why. You all made me feel welcome here, and I can't express just how much that means to me.

There's a ton of people I could tag to thank, but I'd be here all day, and honestly my anxiety still spikes at the idea of tagging unnecessarily, so I'll just say this-

If we've spoken out of character at all, if we've written together frequently, or if you're one of those people who has been following me even before I had a pinned or when I was still figuring stuff out, thank you. Seriously.

An extra big thank you has to go to two specific accounts I met here who have put up with my gigantic ramblings explaining my AU and how much of a mess it is. Not going to say who, but you're both awesome! Very talented writers, super creative people, and a joy to talk to! (Even if I sometimes take forever to respond,,,)

And of course, a huge thank you to my two close friends and streaming partners, who helped me find my bearings when I was starting out here. I don't think I'd have been able to stick with this if it wasn't for your help, so thank you.

There's been a lot of curve balls and traumatic life events for me this year, especially lately, but writing with you all has been a consistent bright spot throughout. I won't say you guys made my year or anything, but you definitely made it a lot better than it would've been.

TL;DR-

Thanks for a great year!!

Here's hoping 2024 is better tho-

[plaindangan]

Kaede and miu constantly bicker about who's the biggest, knowing how boob obsessed this class is, they constatnly ramble about it so much that tsumoomoo and kirumilf cant take it anymore! Thank god when beach day happens they can show those blondes what "big" is~

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not read!

"Shut it, ant-tits!!! I have the biggest rack here and everybody knows it!!"

'For the love of-!! Look, it's clear we're practically the same...even if I'm slightly bigger~"

"You little-!!"

As the two continued to argue both Tsumugi and Kirumi, who were sitting nearby, found their patience wearing thin. Again. This has been going on since these two met and both were quite sick of it. Especially, since, well, both had an idea on who the clear 'winners' of such an exchange truly were~

'Ugh, you'd think both were tsundere's for each other with how much they bicker and fond over each other's boob size." Tsumugi muttered, trying to block out their fighting by working on a sketch for a new cosplay.

"It's a tiring effort." Kirumi agreed, before a thought occur to her. She usually doesn't like to meddle with potential client own affairs...but if it was for the sake of peace, then that might be a different story~

"Though...Tsumugi, might I ask something of you? What say we end this once and for all for the upcoming trip? I believe if we put your talent to good use, that might end things." Tsumugi looked over as the two's arguing turn even louder and louder and-!!!

"Okay, yeah, I'm in..."

For the likes of Kaede and Miu, the beach trip was a perfect way to 'compete'. Who had the biggest boobs? Whose boobs looked better in their bikini's Whose boobs tanned better? Stuff like that had both wage war constantly whenever they got to the beach...

Which is why when both Kirumi and Tsumugi arrived on the beach, they looked pretty shocked. Kirumi and Tsumugi were well known for being conservative in their clothing. Long skirts, layered shirts and jackets, generally composing themselves in a modest manner...

So it was a real out of left field moment when both arrived on the scene in a casual, dare one say even flirty, manner in swimsuits that outclassed both blonde's easily. For Tsumugi, she was wearing a light blue slingshot bikini, while Kirumi she opted for a white, see-through tube top and a short dark green 'skirt'.

Both suits doing well in showing just how gigantic their busts were, especially in the case of Tsumugi's, whose swimsuit was barely covering her tits and was bouncing about with each step as she got closer to the blonde's. Kirumi was 'technically' more modest, but whatever oil or sweat or anything she applies or felt had her tope moisten to the point it gave Miu and Kaede a great look at her puffy nipples. But 'modest' or not, it was clear as day their chest made both Kaede and Miu's look like A-cups.

But beyond that both blonde's could see they were very voluptuous, with Tsumugi's hips and cake being blatantly on display for the world to see. While Kirumi''s skirt did cover her lower waist a bit, it was small enough that there was a major thigh opening the showed off not only her well curved milky thigh, but enough to show she wasn't wearing a bikini bottom underneath~ Likewise, her own massive buns would make anyone eye up her backside, regardless if she was wearing a skirt, bikini bottom or plain nude down there~

"Ah...Kaede? Miu? Are you two alright?" Asked Kirumi, arms crossing underneath her chest, which only made them be emphasized more to Kaede or Miu. Both haven't responded yet, and seemed frozen in place staring at the duo.

"Hee-hee~ I think we've broken them a bit, Kirumi. And we didn't even need to do anything really ecchi for that to happen!" Tsumugi said waving a hand in front of Miu's face. Kirumi sighed, but did look a bit proud of herself. Wasn't often she gets to be so daring~

And if wearing a skimpy suit is all that is required to get both girl s to finally realized who were the true busty beauties of their class? Then she'll happily wear it all she wants~