#my old hyper fixation is coming back STRONG

[shortn-sweet]

Age is just a number when you’re Matthew Gubler 💓

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest [3] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: While Kylian lets jealousy get the best of him on the pitch, you find that a tequila-filled night might be the answer to healing your broken heart... even if it's just for one night.

Warnings: Still just absolute angst. Missing your ex, Kylian being overprotective and jealous, Erling Haaland being a dick (i'm sorry it's purely for plot purposes), heavy drinking, self destructive behavior, cussing, bad cheese puns, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

The breakup was bound to go public sooner or later. It was surprising you made it almost seven weeks before the media got the hold of the story. You both were spotted alone on separate sides of town too many times, you’d missed all of his matches, and E!News got a source that told them you live alone now. You have a strong hunch it’s your next door neighbor that’s always lingering by the stairs. She asks entirely too many questions.

While you were still with Kylian, your relationship was kept mostly private and you rarely found yourself in any headlines. But, lord knows, if there’s anything the press loves more than a celebrity engagement is a celebrity breakup. When you saw a graphic of your face and Kylians face photoshopped onto a broken heart on Snapchat, a clickbait title asking, “did our fav football couple call it quits?”, you knew you’d be getting some unwanted attention. Fuck you, Daily Mail. Mind your business.

You clearly remember agreeing with him to wait for you to text first, but he’s a damn liar. He didn’t let a day go by before sending you a sweet good morning text. For the past three weeks, he’s been sending little messages here and there. Nothing too risqué or anything that made you feel pressure… they were actually nice. You’d been pretty good at not responding, being occupied doing absolutely anything else to stop yourself from thinking about him.

Kylian knew this. Being with you for such a long time, he understood how you got when you didn’t want to think about something. When your family dog passed, you claimed you were fine over and over again, and he just had to let you hyper fixate on new random hobbies until your feelings eventually exploded out. You taught yourself claymation, knitting, refurbishing old creepy dolls… that was definitely his least favorite. He needed to make sure you didn’t force yourself to forget about him, he wanted to be there for you when you were ready. He’s patience is usually very thin, but he’s impressed with himself for staying (mostly) zen about you not responding. He had to. He couldn’t fuck this up again and come swinging with the ‘I love you’s that he types out and erases promptly.

It’s finally Friday and you just finished a late lunch at your favorite café near your office, just listening to music on your headphones and reading through a document you were about to send to your colleagues. Your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian and, of course, you clicked the notification. You always did.

He’d sent you a picture of a decorative board at some market with a cheese-remix of the song Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics. You immediately laughed out loud, having seen this exact sign before with Kylian years ago. For weeks after, you two sang the lyrics randomly around the house, in the car, pretty much anywhere until all of your friends were begging for you two to just shut the fuck up.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese, who am I to dissa-brie, I’ve travelled the world and the feta cheese, everybody’s lookin’ for stilton.

Your fingers began to respond before you even had a chance to really think about it.

(Y/N): Not this shit again

Kylian smiled widely upon seeing that you sent something back, typing back in record speeds.

Kylian: I think it’s…….. grate

You actually smiled at his horrible pun, twirling your hair against your own will.

(Y/N): very cheesy

Kylian was so quick to look up more cheese puns, not wanting to let his roll come to an end. Any communication, even about cheese, worked for him.

Kylian: it’s very gouda to hear from you again :)

“Oh, man.” You mumbled to yourself, noticing how your heart rate increased with just a couple of his really really bad jokes.

God, you missed him so much.

You stood up, leaving the conversation there, gathering your things and turning up the music. Yet, the whole walk back it was impossible to focus on whatever was playing in your ears because of the louder song playing inside your head. Sweet dreams are made of cheese…

Kylians thumb was lodged between his teeth in anticipation, but soon realized you weren’t going to respond again. Lowly cursing to himself, he threw his phone back in his locker. Everyone was prepared for todays game against Manchester City, especially Kylian. He wanted to win so bad, it almost felt like the World Cup.

He knew who he was going to play against — Erling Haaland. If he wasn’t too fond of him before, finding out he hit on you on you brewed a different kind of determination to win inside of him. You said nothing happened that night and he believed you — but he knew that Haaland had more in mind than just a nice conversation. He noticed last week that he followed you on instagram and liked all of your recent pictures, not including the ones with him. As of last night, you still didn't follow him back. Those late night stalking sessions have to stop soon. His nutritionists is really getting on his ass for finishing entire jars of peanut butter every other day.

He wondered if you were going to watch the game or if you had been since you left. He really hoped you hadn’t been. He’s been playing horribly these past weeks. Once the news of your breakup went public, every commentator made a point of mentioning it and saying stupid shit like, “life goes on, and that’s something Kylian Mbappé is going to have to figure out sooner or later.”

He let his angry thoughts fuel him as he walked into the tunnel. He tried to get his head in the game, but couldn’t help looking back every so often to the opposing team next to them, eyes always landing on the tall blonde man.

He stood in his place, but his neck twisted back against his will, not really caring if he was being too obvious. Right before the teams were meant to walk out together, Haaland caught his death glares. Kylian doubled down, making sure he wouldn’t be the one to lose this immature staring contest. Holland cracked a shit-eating grin and winked at Mbappé.

Oh, the rage… keep it in, Kylian.

He looked away with an unbothered “pft.” It wasn’t very convincing, not even to himself.

After the usual opening ceremony, the whistle blew indicating that the match had begun, sending Kylian sprinting in every direction as the game progressed. ManCity was good, but he knew PSG was better. He kept telling himself this, but his teammates continued to mess up, even allowing the light-blue motherfuckers to score the opening goal not even twenty minutes into the first half. And, of course, it was Haaland that buried the ball deep in the back of the net. He watched him celebrate on his pitch, listening to the crowd cheer their chant, feeling tortured and helpless.

His eye was fixed on the Norwegian as he moved back into the starting position, hating that he was laughing, still on a high from scoring. Hakimi walked next to Kylian, feeling that his friend is on the brink of doing something very dumb. His hand patted his shoulder, but Kylian didn’t even notice it, his entire body twitching with jealously.

When Kylian was in earshot, Haaland nodded up at him. “Kylian.” The young player called, but Kylian just side eyed him. Hakimi grabbed his shoulders tighter just in case he tried anything. “(Y/N) is up for grabs now, no?”

Kylians ears rung as he felt himself launch at Erling who just laughed. Hakimi had gotten in front of him without missing a beat, roughly shoving him in the opposite direction to keep him from beating up the 22 year old. Other PSG players joined, guiding Kylian to his position.

He didn’t even know words were coming out of his mouth at this point, pointing his finger threateningly at Erling. “Don’t fucking talk about her. I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” He was well aware that this was all to get in his head but, shit. It’s working. Kylian didn’t even notice that the referee was being talked down by Neymar and Messi, eventually the confrontation getting waved off with a warning at the start of a new play.

Halftime rolled around and no one scored again. In the locker room, Glatier yelled and waved his arms, demanding that the defense get their shit together. He zoned out, too deep in thought about what an asshole that guy is and how he wants to score and rub it in his face. He was brought back when he heard his name grumbling out of his coaches mouth, having no idea what the topic even was.

“Sorry?” He embarrassingly piped up, seeing all of his teammates had their eyes on him.

Glatier grunted, stomping closer to him. “I said, get your shit together!”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t worry about what they say. Just go out there and play like I know you can. You want to win, don’t you?”

“I do, coach.”

“Then let’s fucking win.”

Glatier was right and he knew it. Whatever that stupid hulk-boy had to say about you was only getting under his skin. He couldn’t play at his best like that.

So, when the second half started and he heard him say some bullshit again, he did his best to let it roll off his back. “You think she’ll respond if I DM her?” Erling asked nonchalantly to Álvarez, but Kylian was determined to let it slide. Let it fucking slide.

But, he didn’t stop there. When walking by him, Haaland asked him, “What’s a good spot to take her? Nothing too far, my hotel room is around here.” Kylians fists were balled in rage, biting his cheek and blowing air out of his flared nostrils.

“You better shut your goddamn mouth.” He snapped back, but continued walking away, knowing he can’t let him win. Hearing Haalands taunting chuckles behind him almost made him whip back around, but Neymar wrapped his arm securely around his shoulder, forcing him to look forward.

“It’s just talk, Kylian. Come on.” He rubbed his head roughly as if to beg him to not let it get to him before running back into position.

The game progressed, only ten minutes left of the second half before overtime. Neymar was at the left side of the field, preparing himself for a corner kick. Kylian searched for an opening that could potentially bring a scoring opportunity, but a brooding shadow seemed to follow him everywhere. Haaland was aggressively playing defense against him, his height advantage making it impossible for Kylian to move somewhere better.

“I hope she wears something nice and tight.” Erling chortled through his tired breathing. “I’ve been waiting for you to mess things up with her. I’ve had my eye on her for months… She’s so hot.”

His mind went blank, completely blank. It must have, because he didn’t remember shoving Haaland down onto the pitch, fists pulling back. He was seeing red, but his teammates dragged him off before his punch could land right on his cheek. Before he knew it, the ManCity players were charging at PSG. The whistle blew about a dozen times as the crowd got louder.

Kylian couldn’t stop trying to shake off his friends, screaming past the wall of light blue toward the blonde man on the ground pretending to be seriously injured, clutching his arm.

“Say that again! I fucking dare you!” Kylian threatened, Ramos clinging onto his shoulders, walking backwards.

He was pushed away far from the scene as his whole team began to fight with the other players in solidarity, the referee preoccupied with calming down the situation.

He was for sure already getting a red card, so his mindset was fuck it. He sprinted around the fighting crowd who immediately recognized his intentions, getting back in front of him before he could reach Haaland to really do some damage.

“Stay the hell away from her. I’ll end you, you son of a bitch. Off this pitch, I swear to god you’re dead.” Kylian talked out of his ass, already walking himself off the pitch when the referee held up a red card. He waved him off, spiting on the grass as he made his way back through the tunnel, ignoring the coaching team screaming at him altogether.

ManCity ended up winning 2-0 and Kylians suspension was decided to extend for two matches. He didn’t watch the remainder of it, but when he found out Erling Fucking Haaland scored the other goal, it felt like the knife was twisted. Fuck that guy. The press conference after was hell, having to claim that he deeply regretted his actions and that this doesn’t reflect his character or whatever his PR team wrote up for him.

He truly did feel like a dumbass. He absolutely hated how much he let those comments affect him. He knew he should’ve just blocked it out but how was he going to let him say that stuff about you? The way he talked about you like you weren’t even a person, like you weren’t the love of his life. Sure, he felt like a dumbass, but he would defend you to the ends of the earth.

He got home to his empty house, throwing himself on his sofa, flipping on ESPN to watch basketball highlights. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. Usually, he’s opposed to naps as they throw off his sleeping schedule, but recently he’d found them comforting; an easy escape from everything going on. Besides, his sleep schedule was already bonkers from the breakup.

He swears his eyes were only shut for five minutes, but he woke up to complete darkness. His TV even timed out, neck sore from the stiff throw pillows supporting his head, groaning so loudly that it echoed inside the vacant home. It was only when he picked up his phone to check the time that he realized you were even calling. The faint buzzing was probably what woke him up.

“Shit.” He shot up, wiping the sleep from his face as he answered quickly.

He cleared his groggy throat. “Hello?”

He faintly heard you saying his name, but the music in the back was pounding. “Kyyyyks!”

He laughed to himself, loving the sound of his nickname for the first time since your breakup. “Hello? (Y/N)? Are you drunk?”

“Hold on.” He heard you yell from the other line as the music got softer in the background. “Hellooo.” You giggled.

“Hi.” He giggled back.

“I woke you up.” He could hear the pout in your voice, having to bite his lip to keep his smile from getting ridiculous.

“No, no I don’t mind. Call me anytime.” Kylian began twirling his hoodie string on his forefinger. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but he can’t hear you. Your drunk brain didn’t catch up. “I think so.”

“You think so? Where are you?” Concerned, he looked at the time. A little past 3:30 am. Damn, long ass nap.

“Umm…” You paused to look around you, seeing no signs anywhere and finding it kind of funny. “I dunno. I lost them ages ago.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, my friends.”

He stood up. “Wait, wait. Are you by yourself?”

“Mhm!” You chirped, now walking away from the club, alone. Your skin-tight tights gave you no warmth at all, but the tequila that flushed your system had you covered. “Kyks…”

“Yeah?” He waited for you to say something, his concern for you growing, wishing he still had your location so he could go look for you.

You paused, looking around the dark streets. “I mi…” your sentence drifted off and you laughed off what you were about to say. “… I’m so drunk.” You stumbled further down the street, a loud club with red lights oozing from the entrance peaking your interest.

He knew what you were about to say, but wasn’t going to push it. “I can hear that. Do you need a ride? I can come get you right now, just send me your current location.”

“No, I’m fine! Look, I found somewhere safe!” You point, even though he couldn’t see. “Oh, my god. You’ll never believe who’s here. Oh, shit.”

“Who?” Kylian asked over the phone.

You giggled. “I don’t wanna tell you, Kyks. You’ll be mad. I saw what happened today during the match.”

He was tempted to quirk a smile hearing that you have been watching, but then it dawned on him. It couldn’t be… “Haaland?”

What are the odds? Erling Haaland stood outside the packed nightclub with a few of his teammates, surrounded by women and men, all trying to get his attention. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good guesser.” You clapped. “God, I forgot how tall he was.”

He grabbed his keys, putting his shoes on, holding the phone up to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around his home. “Please just let me come pick you up. I’m worried about you, where are you? I’ll take you home.”

You got closer to the LED sign. “It’s called… uh… la petite robe noire… oh my god! That’s what I’m wearing!” You cheered.

He put you on speaker and looked it up. Jesus, you were so far, he wondered if you’d started out around there or if you’d ventured out alone. He revved up his engine, backing out of his driveway. “Stay there, I’m coming. Okay?”

You didn’t respond, your phone now by your side as Erling spotted you, jogging over to where you were standing.

“Hey!” You waved, letting him come to you because your heels hurt too badly. You couldn’t hear Kylian on the other line trying to get your attention.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in and hugged you. You kind of hugged back, too drunk to balance yourself upwards that way without falling into him.

As soon as he heard that fucking accent over the phone, he pressed his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hits every green light in Paris. You, on the other hand, forgot you were still on the line with your ex fiancé, but hung up when you realized it with a giggly “oops!”.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you, how are you, (Y/N)?” Haaland asks, placing a steady hand on your waist to keep your wobbling frame from tipping over.

“So good!” That was a lie. You were out tonight drinking away the pit in your stomach since the match. You’d watched sneakily from your desk, fingers tugging at your roots when you saw the little incident during the first half. During those last ten minutes, you felt like you were going to throw up.

Why did you have to tell Kylian about Erling? What happened today definitely opened him up to a lot of criticism from his coaches, the team, the media… You couldn’t help but feel a little responsible because you knew he could behave himself if he never knew about that night on the balcony. On the other hand, it was kind of… very hot. Jealous Kylian was never your favorite, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling something spark in you. Or maybe you were just horny. Who’s to say? It's been so long...

“You’re good?” Erling accent repeats, grinning down at you. “Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"Pffft." You laugh. "Yeah right, you two were never exactly friends."

He shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're right. I'm not sorry." He smirks, looking you up and down. If your head wasn’t filled with liquor you’d feel kind of gross, but his flirty stares didn’t mean anything to the drunken body you found yourself in tonight. It all went right over your head. He nods his head toward the club. "Come on, let's get you a drink, yeah?"

You followed him in, the lights were blurry and the ground wasn't very stable. The vibrations came up from the ground, making you feel like someone was shaking your brain around. You were absolutely not thinking straight, and it only got worse when a bottle girl came over to the section with Don Julio. It was all so fast, like the lights flashed and you were suddenly with someone else, or in a different part of the club, or dancing, drinking, stumbling.

Fuck, you had to get out of there.

Kylian arrived at the club and he definitely did not fit the dress code. But, despite his grey joggers and Nike hoodie, he was still Kylian Mbappé, so he got in without any issue. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted at a nightclub that Erling Haaland was at, but he did it for you. He politely smiled at his fans but weaved past people begging for a selfie. He called you plenty of times from the car, but you never picked up.

Once inside the club, he lifted his hood and put on some sunglasses, hoping this wouldn't cause a riot without his security to lead him through the crowds. People were too focused on grinding and not spilling their drinks to notice the international superstar frantically searching for one single woman in a sea of them.

He looked up at the sections on the second floor, finally spotting that tall blonde bastard, wasting not a single second before making his way up, security letting him through once he flashed them his famous smile.

"Haaland!" He cups his hands around his mouth, hoping that he knows where you are. "Haaland!"

He finally turns around, knitting his eyebrows at the sight. "Kylian." He steps around the models to stand close to him, the loud music making it impossible to communicate from even a few feet away. "What? You didn't get enough of me on the pitch today?"

Kylian rolls his eyes. "No, man. I'm just looking for (Y/N). I know she was here."

"Yeah, she was." Erling laughed. "She's wild, for sure. Don't know where she went, though."

"What? She's not here?"

Haaland shrugged. "She went to the bathroom and never came back. Why do you even care? Like I said, she's up for grabs. She's not yours anymore."

If he wasn't so worried about your current wellbeing, he would have grabbed his stupid little ponytail and gone full Fight Club on him. But he didn't, instead he shook his head at him and made his way down from the section before he regretted not throwing a punch or two.

His concern grew. He never thought he would wish you were with Erling Haaland at a nightclub, but at least he could find you then.

Kylian stood on a ledge hoping to see your hair or face anywhere from a birds-eye view, but had to leave promptly when the partygoers caught onto his less than great disguise. A security guard from the club lead him to the back exit, warding off flashing cameras in every direction.

Thanking the man when he was safely outside with a fist bump, he walked himself down the dirty metal steps, sighing. "Putain." He walked to is parked car, leaning on it to try and think a little, wondering how he’s going to find you. He really isn’t familiar with this part of town, but he'll stay out all night if he has to.

He wished you’d just pick up the phone, ease his jittery nerves. Just as he was about to click on your contact, he heard some slurred singing further down the alleyway he was in. The faint tune sounded familiar, but the voice definitely was. It was you.

He followed like a siren sound, turning the corner to see you sitting on a small cement step, head resting on your curled up knees, giggling to yourself as you continued the song.

"Sweet cheese are made of cheese, who am I to *hiccup* disa-cheese..."

"I think you've messed up the lyrics there, love." He smiled, letting out a breath he’d been holding now knowing you're okay.

You gaze up, smiling widely, gasping and jolting up, wrapping your loose arms around his neck and letting your legs go limp.

"Woah, hey..." He exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing your torso tightly to keep you upright.

"You're here!" You gaze up, grin wide as he peered down at you, smiling as well. "Whadda coincidence!"

It was like he didn't just spend hours worried sick, now feeling somewhat at ease. Your presence is all he needed for every weight to be lifted off his shoulders. He only cares about making sure you get back home with a glass of water on your nightstand and a trashcan at your side.

"You okay? Why are you out here by yourself?" He guides you to stand properly on your own, but you didn't let your grip go, so he didn't either. He let his hand stay on the small of your back, his other gripping your hip.

You shrug, scratching your fingernails against the nape of his neck. He shivered, goosebumps running down his body, letting a flustered giggle escape his lips. You stared deep into his eyes. Your funny demeanor simmered down, finding the familiar warmth of the man in front of you to be more intoxicating than anything you've drank tonight. "You always loved when I did that..."

Kylian's heart got caught in his throat, gulping it down along with the urge to hold you so tightly. He'd been craving your touch, spending many sleepless nights wondering if he'd ever get to feel you again.

"Let's get you home, okay?" He mumbled, running his hands down your arms to unwrap them from his neck. He held one of your arms as he bent down to grab your phone and purse from the dirty floor.

He started guiding you to his passengers seat, but getting you there wasn’t an easy task. Your heels kept getting caught in the cobblestones so he had to keep a steady hand around you in case you fell. He buckled you up like a toddler, doing his best to ignore the googly eyes that you made at him.

When he got in drivers seat, he looked over at you, a rush of memories making his heart flutter.

All of the times he would turn his gaze away from the road for just a second to see you. The way you smiled when you rode with the windows down, sticking your arm out to feel the rushing wind outside the car. The way he used to be able to put a comforting hand on your thigh while he drove and you'd draw circles on his knuckles mindlessly, rambling about anything that came to your mind. The way you would always unwrap a piece of gum for him because you didn't want him distracted, even though he would never not get distracted by you.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, clearing his throat. "So, what's your address?"

You laughed, taking your heels off. "I dunno."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Geez, Ky. I've only lived there for like..." you counted in your head, but numbers barely made sense sober, "...not that long."

"Do you have it on your phone?" He pried, handing you your cell.

"Yes!" You cheered, snatching it only to see that it was out of battery when the screen reflected back at you. "Ah, man. It's dead!" You pouted, throwing it in the backseat, crossing your arms.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, turning on the heat higher when he noticed the chills running down your arms. "I can take you back to... uh..." he stuttered, having to stop himself from saying our place, still getting used to living there alone, "—back to my place."

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow dramatically. "Nice try, Casanova." You chuckled.

He laughed too, rubbing his eyes. "No, come on, (Y/N). There's like five beds. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

You bite your lip and stare at him through your lashes. "I'd let you."

God, that stare. That tone. He's internally cussing himself out for all those times he told you he wasn't in the mood or too tired. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself.

He quickly shook it off, laughing dryly and having to look away from you. “You are so drunk.”

With that, he put the car in reverse, beginning the half hour journey back to the home that still has pictures of you on the walls. The home that still feels like it’s yours, the one that Kylian prays he’ll see you wake up in again… at a time when you’re not absolutely plastered, of course. For now, he’s content looking over to your sleeping figure in his car, slowly breathing and shifting every so often.

Once he pulled into the garage, he got out and made his way to open the passenger door. “Hey,” he gently put a hand on your cold shoulder, “we’re here, bébé.”

He didn’t mean for the nickname to slip out of his mouth, but it did. It actually woke you up, your heart thumping at the four letters that used to be so familiar to you, so intimate.

“I’m tired.” You grumble, putting your hands out toward him, slightly less drunk, yet nowhere near sober. “I forgot how comfy your car is.”

“Wait ‘till we get you into a real bed. You’re gonna sleep like a rock.” You grabbed his forearms and stumbled out of the car, Kylian quickly grabbing your heels, phone, and purse.

For a drunk, you moved surprisingly fast, beelining to the kitchen. He followed you in, attentive to your wonky steps. He set your belongings down on one of the barstools, turning to see you leaned inside of his fridge, grasping the handles for balance.

“You hungry?” He grins, walking around the kitchen island and leans against it.

“Mm… you got rid of all my snacks…”

“Uh, not true.” He quipped, opening the cupboard and pulling back a red box, the sight bringing a big smile to your face.

“Pancakes?!”

He opens the cabinet bellow him and pulls out a sleek black press, confident smirk spreading to his cheeks. “Waffles.”

You cover your mouth in excitement, stumbling backward a bit but catch yourself on the island. “No way.”

He nods, eyes twinkling at your enthusiasm. You look so pretty in this kitchen. It’s nostalgic. It feels warmer now that you’re back here, even if he’s just pretending to forget that you’ll have to leave in the morning.

“Go sit. They won’t take long.” You do as he says, hopping into a stool as you watch him begin to mix the ingredients in a bowl.

Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him. The way his chin quivered when he cried over you, how much it hurt to tell him you weren't ready and that you may never be. It was still true. In a more clearheaded scenario, you probably wouldn't be here with him right now. If alcohol didn't seem like such an inviting bandaid to your aching mind and heart, the feelings you'd been suppressing would likely have stayed suppressed... where you honestly wanted them to stay. Opening yourself back up to be loved by the same man that made you question yourself was still incredibly scary.

"Bon appétit." He placed the plate in front of you.

The waffle was dusted in powdered sugar, a small butter square in the middle was surrounded by sliced strawberries. "Oh... my... god..." You salivated, picking up the fork and knife he handed you and devoured the first bite, moaning in gratitude. "Oh my god." You had no other words.

Kylian laughed, picking up his own fork to dig into his less pretty waffle, standing across from you. "Yeah?"

He didn't get a verbal response back, but knew you meant it upon seeing the manner in which you inhaled every crumb on your plate. Your late night snack was gone too soon and you wanted more, but your drooping eyes and full bladder convinced you that sleep was better.

Kylian took his last bite, grabbing your plates and setting them in the sink. "I think it's bedtime."

You agreed without saying so, hopping off the stool and took the route to the master bedroom. You could walk there with your eyes closed and you might as well have. The sleep deprivation mixed with your drunkenness lead you straight to the dresser, opening up the top chest on your side to grab a t-shirt.

When your crossed eyes looked down at the empty drawer, it was sobering. You let out a shakey breath, clasping your hands in front of you. "Right..."

Kylain stood by the door, frowning at your stillness. The small window of bliss he had with you just seconds earlier shattered upon seeing your sorrowful face looking down at the drawer that used to contain your things, now containing nothing but memories of what used to be.

Silently, he walked over to you, gently shutting it for you. He opened up his side, handing you one of the shirts you left folded for him. One of your favorites. "Here."

You give him an attempt of a smile but don't actually look at him. "Thanks."

He goes to leave the room but you stop him. "Wait. Where are you going? I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. I'm not taking your bed."

"No, please. You just get some rest, okay?" He almost whispers, taking in the sight of you standing in this room again before he went to close the door.

"Ky?" You breathe, locking your eyes on his. There was something you wanted to say, some words your throat closed up on, leaving you with nothing else but silence. He stayed still, his adoration for you threatening to spill out of him the longer he stared at you. You draw a subtle breath upon feeling your emotions pooling in your eyes. "Thank you."

Kylian felt the weight of your otherwise simple words, taking context from the way you were looking at him. "I'll always be here for you."

With that, he reluctantly closed the door behind him, trudging to the bedroom closest to you.

The room spun as you laid down on your favorite pillow, beyond comfortable under the duvet you picked out yourself. You wished you never went drinking tonight. If you'd just stayed home and pigged out on ice cream you wouldn't have to face the truth that's been slowly crawling to the surface.

Your eyes shut much too quickly to really explore the sentiments you've uncovered tonight, but that's probably for the best.

Kylian's mind was racing and he only hoped you couldn't hear how loud his brain was from the next room. Under the guilt and self-pity he's been swimming in for weeks, he finally felt a sliver of optimism beginning to grow inside of him. It was such a tender feeling, a feeling he let lull him to sleep, content knowing you were just on the other side of that wall.

A/N: The amount of times this deleted..... I was going crazy. Thank god that I started saving every draft on Google Drive or else I probably would have stopped writing out of frustration. Big things coming for (Y/N) and Kylain! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry about having to make Haaland an asshole bc I really do love him. It was just to move the plot along <3. Also I didn't know all of the soccer terms in english so forgive me if I messed any of that up. Love all of you and thanks for reading!

[savnofilter]

His Spidey-Senses | h. sero

         College AU!Sero Hanta x [GN]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sfw, light suggestive content, kithing 😙, tsundere!reader, sero may have hyper fixation on a certain Spiderman scene, established relationship.

COUNT: 2k words [10 mins].

READ MORE: part two [masterlist + student masterlist].

A/N: this originally was a collab with a dear friend i am no longer friends with. ive been wanting to write sero more often and thought this would be the perfect work to finish and do so. if you so happen to be on my blog, ily. the first para to the fourth ("lectures -> day.") were written by her with very light editing whilst the rest is mine. wish we couldve finished this together years ago. anyways, hope yall enjoy this as much as i did finishing it. i'll make this post look prettier when my pc starts working again. 🥺🫶🏽

Lectures droned on and for you, it was a total bore. What you would give to be in the hero studies track and not stuck in the general studies degree... Hell, you were starting to consider your quirk turning anything you touch into rubber as a consideration for a strong quirk. As the blood hero, Vlad King, continued on, your eyes wandered to the clock above the board, counting down the seconds before the bell could finally ring. And sure enough, in ten seconds you were already bolting through the door.

You made quick steps to the end of the hall in hopes you could hurry and get these papers settled for the up-and-coming agency visit. As you shuffled through the papers you didn’t notice one of the windows that opened, the air from outside blowing the papers out of your hand before you could even think about what happened. Your eyes watched in defeat as the papers left your grasp, your brain not processing what had just occurred before one so happened to hit you in the face.

Your papers!

You rushed to the window and looked around in absolute worry, eyes wildly searching for them before sighing deeply in despair. How were you supposed to get them now? That was your only chance to get them done finally and they were due by the end of the day.

“Shit, shit, shit…” You mutter under your breath angrily as your eyes quickly scan the area helplessly. You crouch down body finally out of shock to collect your things. Of course when you finally finish this assignment after being so busy lately something out of your control happens again. While collecting your things in defeat a male's voice calls out to you from the open window.

"Did 'ya drop these?"

You whip your head around and look at the source of the sound, a gush of relief washing over you as you look over at your hero. "Oh my god," You stand up and lean against the ledge, hands reaching out for the remaining papers of the stack. The black-haired male pulls his hand back as you reach out to him, his actions making your arms recoil in confusion. A wave of annoyance promptly follows.

"Sero, give me the papers."

"Nuh-uh," Your boyfriend does his signature grin and moves to hang upside down from his tape. "You gotta give me a kiss first."

You scoff and tilt your head with a deadpan look, staring at him as you try to gauge if he is being deadass or not. You look away from his smug and handsome face, glancing left and right to make sure no one else occupies the hallway at this time. You chuckle as you wordlessly lean forward to give him a kiss, his soft lips eagerly meeting yours.

You and Sero had decided to binge old Marvel movies over the weekend and it may have been your worst and best mistake yet. Right into the first entry of the night, your excited boyfriend, Sero, insists that you start with Spiderman. You two bickered for a while as you wanted to go in chronological order, but later you chose to comply with his request only because he seemed excited to see it. In your memory, the movie was pretty good so there wasn't much complaining, but it wasn't the overall movie that got him obsessed. It was the most iconic bit of the movie for fanatics that set a cultural reset in cinema and fandom:

The upside-down kiss.

At that moment as your head laid on his chest, your cheek could feel the thumping in his chest speed up as the scene progressed. Instinctually you peer up at your boyfriend and lean away to see his face better, a playful smirk on your face as you squeeze him.

"No way you're blushing!" You sit up and get a better look at him with the dim and cozy lighting accentuating his cute face.

Sero rolls his eyes and gives you a look that begs for understanding, his hand grabbing your forearm as a plea. "Of course I am! That kiss was totally unnecessary."

"Mm, you think so?" You tease, body leaning into his and your face only centimeters away from his this time. "So you'd never want to try that with me?" Prying, your free hand that rested on his chest slid its way up to the side of your boyfriend's neck. Your thumb presses lightly against his pulse enjoying the way he shifts at the pressure on his neck.

"That's not what I mean and I didn't say that." Sero responds lowly. You two look into each other's eyes before leaning in to press your lips against his in a heavy kiss.

That night you two certainly did upside-down kiss, not exactly portrayed from the movie but you can already guess what went down. Either way, he was totally enraptured by that scene and used almost every chance he could to have you two recreate it.

You thought his infatuation was cute (which you made the mistake of telling him). In some instances, they were certainly out of place and even managed to gain a bit of a crowd when he'd give you a peck. You were a shy person when it came to showing affection, the fact that you were relaxed enough to do it so easily in private was a milestone. What really took the cake was his public displays of affection, the ongoing lookers enjoying a little too much of your abashed reaction to his advances. The perfect thing about your boyfriend is that he knows when and where to tease you, though. Every kiss he gave you caused you to feel embarrassment mixed with overwhelming love. Even in the more public settings, it was done with so much rizz you couldn't help but feel like a blushing schoolgirl or better yet, MJ. You couldn't lie, the whole appeal was that in many ways Sero always acted and felt like your own superhero—never mind the fact he was training to actually be one. As much as you were a tsundere at heart, his cheesy gestures always seemed to win you over.

But you know what the best part about this is?

You two were on the same page for your couple's costume this Halloween.

"You're my hero, seriously. I think I would've had a breakdown if you didn't catch those." You look up at him as he switches around to be upright again and step back as you collect the papers, giving him room to enter the hallway. He understands your thought process and effortlessly enters the building, gracefully landing on his feet. He makes sure to close the window behind him to avoid another mishap from occurring.

Sero doesn't say anything as he watches you fix the papers in order at a small table, eyes soft in their observations. There was a never-leaving tension on your delicate features, shoulders hunched while your back was impossibly straight. He had known you for a while now and it was clear to him that you were too stressed.

He stares at you for a bit longer making you look up at him with light confusion written all over your face at his silence. "Baby, let me take you out. You look stressed as fuck."

Your furrowed brows, slight frown, and irritation immediately lessen at him calling it out. You sigh softly and shake your head as you go back to rearranging your papers. You didn't want to outright say no, but there's no way you could easily agree. You felt bad either way with how much he does for you.

"C'mon, I can tell with my Spidey senses that you totally need me to take you out."

"'Ro, you have that training all the way into the evening tonight. I can't ask that of you!"

"Oh but you can," He genuinely smiles as he pulls you in by your waist. What you didn't know about him was that when he's around you, he always feels energized. Even if he had a super jam-packed schedule for a whole week, an hour with you always brightens his mood. He was more than willing to spend the rest of his night with you if it meant making you feel better. It wasn't like he secretly felt like he was sacrificing on his part either, he would willingly drop everything just to be with you. He pulls you closer as he places both of his hands on your waist and pulls you close to his chest. "Relax."

He mutters against your lips as you wrap your hands around his shoulders, a full-on kiss finally happening for the day. You softly hum as he applies more passion to the kiss, his hands sliding up a bit to hold your back and you arch into him. Your lips move so easily against his that you totally forget where you even are. The only thing you can focus on is that his lips and hands felt so good on you.

Your body melts against his natural fluidity, your muscles and joints already so accustomed to the black-haired male. You could feel something start to poke against your tummy, the pressure already sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. You softly whimper when he slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting nothing more but to be engulfed completely in his presence.

As you slip further into the kiss, an irritating thought runs across your mind for the second time during this encounter: your papers. You groan in annoyance as you force yourself to pull yourself away from your lover, a string of saliva connecting you two. You bring up your wrist to wipe it away although not fully committing to pulling away from him just yet.

"Ah shit," You try to collect yourself and lightly pant as you look up at him. It was a mixture of not wanting to go, a silent plea for more later. "I have to meet with my professor-"

"Tonight though right, babe?" He leans against the wall as he asks. You sigh and nod your head in acceptance.

"Tonight, I promise." You lean in and give his cheek a kiss before taking your papers and sending him a small wave. You step back and swivel on your heels, hastily returning on your journey to the aforementioned lecture room. You’re able to hide the giddy smile that reaches your lips as you already start to fantasize about your boyfriend, but he already knew you would start cheesing the moment you turned around.

You felt so incredibly lucky to have your very own hero grace your life like this.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[kazukazuhas]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ old friends, lloyd garmadon.┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ act one ;; scene five┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

  ୧ ⎯⎯ GREEN NINJA

୧ ⎯⎯ WARNINGS ;; some stalking ;; alluding to robbery and possible murder ;; some injures ;; lloyd being a cute dude ;; reader has anxiety and not have that strong of a will to live

  ୧ ⎯⎯ NOTES ;; who knew that i would forget to included the other main character for a little bit. i tried to write anxiety to the best of my ability, but i'm tired af rn

  ୧ ⎯⎯ PREVIOUS ┊MASTERLIST┊NEXT

  ୧ ⎯⎯ 1 IMAGE ;; TEXT [CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]

  maybe this was a bad idea: coming to the store by yourself without anyone else to accompany, to chase away and ease your nerves. anxiety began to rack its thin finger against your heart as the car parked off to the side of the pavement. nya checked her phone quickly, angling the screen just short of out of your sight but you don't bother about what she's busy with both out of decency and being out of it.

  the car's safety tried to call you back, singing a song of comfort as you reluctantly stepped out of the vehicle to complete your own tasks of the day. nya, while in the midst of your worrying and fastening breath hidden behind the disposable mask you grabbed, mentioned something you don't quite understand entirely from the slightly deafness you felt but nonetheless the least go along with it as she starts the car, waves and finally drove off to her own destination. maybe you should've let pixal when she offered to accompany you– well too bad it's too late now. 

  it's quick, you think to yourself to reassure the panic from settling in, a simple in and out. all you needed was a few things and you'd be out in a jiff, and the house was nothing but a good ten minutes away– you choose to believe that it is near instead of its realistic distance being further rather than closer. you hesitantly step inside the small convenience store, counting all the heads you see before walking around the side of the aisles to find the one you needed exactly. 

  relief flooded you like a thin stream of mist, the bell rang as the last person and their child, who was half embarrassed by their mother, left the store while bidding a rather noisy goodbye to the clearly tired cashier, who only rolled their eyes before continuing on with their own personal work. you pick the things you need up quickly, checking their prices quickly before grabbing a pack of some ramen you liked and a few energy drinks from one of the neatly packed fridges. skylor did say they normally restocked the night before saturday. with a good attempt, you tried to seem calm while walking up to the cashier. 

  they greeted you softly, still in their own haze of thought and daydreaming when you get to them after a quick moment. they half-smiled before continuing on with their job, taking each of the items from your short list and cashing them. their calm energy radiated and softened your nerves for a moment. they were just someone no older than you, mostly fresh out of high school and maybe even trying to make ends meet? or they were trying to earn enough to cover the cost of university or college, you couldn't tell.

  it was something so fascinating about the whole — outside a single perspective, were the interesting lives of thousands of millions to billions, all filling the pages of their books with ink crafted to them in their own unique writing.

  they handed you the bagged items and slip after they received the cash you handed back to them, letting out a small farewell greeting and going back to their own work and continuing on with their day. never caring of whether it was the last time you'd see them or if this was just the first. 

  but your mind was at ease– maybe you were hyper fixated by anxiety thumping against your head at first but it ceased, at least until you made it halfway down the road. something warned you, a gut feeling that meshed with anxiety and worry that told you to turn back and call someone to pick you up. your heart picked up the pace the faster you began to walk, your breath left you in a heave and pant. 

  regrettably, you spare a look behind you. 

  nothing.

  the anxiety rushes forward, sending your nerves on an electrified run the moment the presence lurking after your steps vanishes from your sights and senses. it crashed roughly and flooded rationality, but you kept the fast pace and reframed from breaking out into a desired sprint back to skylor's place. 

  the steps became loudly, your sometimes false suspicion was now correct; someone was following you and not so discreetly. from the sound of the footsteps, they were heavy and following your exact direction you were heading. and you doubt they were of good intentions. 

  "fuck– please go away," you whispered under your breath, the only person who would have only heard was yourself, but you heard the desperation and fear that something might happen. 

  if only you were in shape, it's been forever since your last workout or try to keep yourself fit and in good health. since your high school career started coming to a close in your last couple years, it swiped you of any energy and time you had left outside your preexisting tuitions and classes. sometimes you wonder how you were still standing when you didn't have any of those energy drinks. 

  there was a drunken snicker from behind you, warily you glance back and catch the sight of a stranger watching you walk at a fastened pace with the utmost interest and caution. 

  you turned, a wrong one by your misjudgement and settling panic rising further than before. you notice you're panting slightly at how your body is coming to terms with how hard its work to keep you moving. vaguely you noticed the mistake you made, you were supposed to take the turn after. and it might cost you gravely. 

  your skin itches, a crawling feeling stretches up your arm and it becomes unreal how disgusting you begin to feel the moment the stranger grabs your arm. they grabbed you— it takes a moment to register that they managed to get a hold on you, but now your back hits the hard wall with a thud that rings heavy against the street's bare, lonely walls. the pain cracks through your body, a thick hurt fleet from your back and along your body with a burning touch. that's a faint sound of the contents from your run earlier meeting the ground, its vague against the loud ringing echoing in your hazy mind. 

  the stranger asks of something from you, their face blurry with the sky and wall meshing together. they ask a second time, louder and much clearer but it still didn't reach your hazy mind. 

  silver, no. a shiny grey moved from side to side in your sight, it was getting hard to see from your hazing eyes and tiredness getting to you. nothing seemed real at the moment, maybe your head hit the wall as well– oh that could be a concussion.

  there was yelling, there was someone else who caught the attention of the stranger who thought of taking advantage of your half conscious state to take your hard earned cash, maybe something darker, death. it would be fine if the latter had occurred, you think. you close your eyes reluctantly. 

  "hey, hey–" the other stranger called to you, the one who chased the other one off. you found their clothing funny, all clad in green and black with a hood and mask hiding their face from everyone. "what's your name? can you tell me?" you tried to focus on their voice, the stranger sounded as young as you. you answered them with your name, fading from consciousness for a moment. their voice brought you back, "do you know who i am?" you shook your head as much as you could manage to, resting your face in the hand they held it, your face with. 

  "i'm the green ninja." ninja? so they were real?

  "gonna pick you up- okay there we go. i'm going to take you to the hospital, do you have an emergency contact?" the ninja asks slowly, letting you process each word before saying the next. they wait patiently but not saying a word, but kept moving, you don't notice the rooftops and breeze until you reopen your eyes. 

  "skylor chen." the ninja chuckles, seemingly knowing of who to call. they quietly thank you for the answer before jumping to the next rooftop and onwards until finally reaching the hospital. 

  haze. haze all you felt. 

  you all but remember that day, except you'll remember the person in the strange clothes. they were quite interesting.

  ୧ ⎯⎯ PREVIOUS ┊MASTERLIST┊NEXT

  ୧ ⎯⎯ TAGLIST ;; @spoopy-fish-writes // @spoops-inliyue ;; @decaffeinatedcloudkryptonite // @shaantiofher ;; @sunangelstears ;; @comicbookweirdo ;; @cl0udyw4ter ;; @chamille-trash ;; @candy884422 ;; @rossivette // [pm/send in an ask to join]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ kazukazuhas copr. 2023 darling┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

[laylawatermelon]

The K-Drama Of It All

Hello! My hyper fixation has (very unhealthily) latched onto this show so I'm gonna be analyzing.

First of all, I am a veteran in these spaces.

Very shy in real life I am an avid observer in all my fandoms but TRUST I know what's up at all times because of it.

This first analysis will be of the phenomenon of how they playing in my face with the classic K-Drama tropes and cinematic choices.

Let us begin.

Now we all agree that The Bear is a cinematic masterpiece right? Right.

I have been consuming media across all mediums since I was a kid.

I quite literally spent most of my life watching behind the scenes, in front of the scenes, and in between the scenes.

I'm also an aspiring filmmaker and screenwriter. As such I analyze stuff I like more.

I try to understand why they are the way they are.

Now that we got all the fluff out of the way let's get down to the nitty gritty.

*stands on soapbox*

Page 1 of 10000 ehem

In this this essay I will -!

Fr tho. Let's look at this from a K-Drama perspective.

I've spent about 10-12/13 years watching them. And luckily got into it during the golden era.

I literally watched She Was Pretty air (among others). Ex, Strong Woman, Descendants of the Sun (never watched; controversy+ bad attention span), School 2013.

So you know I'm (somewhat) of an og.

I'm those shows it's very formulaic.

This can extend to other Asian dramas but I'm going to try to stick to K-Dramas.

For example, the 10 ep rule. Must have a kiss or kiss in that episode. (Before is fine)

Now they're getting a little willy nilly and getting down in the first EP but I can argue they was down bad back then as well. Just more angsty longing looks.

(which tbf Sydcarm does all the time but it's 99% Carm though)

In KDramas there's something common in the cinematography that I'd call the halo of light. Almost all the time there are some form of beauty shots with them beautifully lit where they're together, the way they look at each other etc.

Which ironically they do with these two a lot on the show.

I know the show is gorgeous but you can't just explain away some of the choices.

I have watched and read a lot of discussions so this will be influenced by a lot of people. I will mention when I got the help from (if i can find it).

Now I just want to say I think this.

These following trope have been here since the dawn of K-Drama time.

Enjoy my infodump.

Firstly let's discuss this here:

1. The Meet Cute/Halo Effect

We've all been screaming to the void about the classic meet cute that happens with Carmy's life and him being constantly bombarded with noise and chaos.

Stylistically this wouldn't be a typical formula for K-Dramas as it leans more into Kmovie style (which valid The Bear was originally a movie) I think it's as textbook as it comes.

Now the original script (which I have read) had a story of different tone. Very Chicago and chaotic but still...

In this iteration of the script idk what the actors were on but JAW looked at the script and chemistry test and was like hmm yes.

A dramatic romcom. I see.

For her she's an ambitious woman who has (maybe a tiny crush) admiration for him cause like he's literally who she wants to be.

Young, talented and successful. He's made a name in their industry so of course she wants to work under him.

But he he's playing the male lead in an early K-Drama with the classic *she enters* and it's like the second coming out Christ being lit from behind her.

The classic 'I can't believe I never noticed how beautiful she is' in all dramas (and romcoms honestly).

You can also compare it to the corny slightly funny moments in slow motion when they miss each other/do the angsty look.

Like this.

Good old kdrama tropes.

What's interesting is that in their scene they do the opposite of what a K-Drama would usually do. They cut the music and let it become calm.

You get to breathe and relax and so does he. He feels at peace.

In K-Dramas, osts are a kind of a life line so they would most likely blare it when he has that realization.

And then at every other romantic moment after.

Another way that it could be is by using very like calm music (still the ost but still).

They do use this with having mostly romantic music in their scenes but it's usually quiet and a bit hard to hear or understand (unless you're analyzing like many of the wonderful people on this app).

Now you can argue her warm lighting in each scene from the finale and introduction represents his hope/life/good change being given back to him in the form of her (but if that's not the most romantic thing I ever heard).

Now for the flashback in the panic attack scene you could argue the blue tone he sees her in, as it usually represents some kind of sadness/distance/professionalism in this show, it can also represent his piercing blue eyes remembering her in the only shade they know how.

Good God that color grading is nuts. His eyes *ARE* the color Blue.

Now I want to talk a bit more about shot composition, color grading and color choices.

In a few interviews I've seen and read the editors, directors and others were quite serious about the shots and music they used were very much on purpose.

I mean come on.

Also Announcement from a novel/screenwriter:

EHEM

WE DON'T EVER INCLUDE NOTHING THAT CAN BE MISINTERPRETED IN SCRIPTS!

AND THE DIRECTOR WOULD DEFINITELY CUT IT IF IT WASN'T HOW HE ENVISIONED IT!

(/hj)

The most telling scenes is the beginning of omlette and the end of the episode before it.

The director had chose to show her tattoo that represents loss in a deep blue lighting which was actually in a similar lighting that Carmy and Claire were bathed in afterwards.

The quora search says it means pain, heartbreak, and emotional turmoil.

It also lines up with the rest of the shots with him preparing dinner with Claire and her being alone.

I believe this kind of represents the emotional cheating (?) going on between them as he practically abandoned her (and their child, The Bear).

(which is a wild choice for platonic coworkers)

As I've said before blue lighting is usually representative of sadness, coldness etc.

In the scene personally even without connecting it to shipping or everything the message came clear to me.

Suffocation.

He was quite literally being suffocated as in the last scene her body was on his as he stared in the distance blankly.

Honestly that shot was kind of heartbreaking because it feels like coercion in a warped way.

He feels like he should be happy, he should participate in these acts, he should be doing well.

He's fulfilling his family's wish.

So why isn't he happy?

That's my writer kicking in but that's what I got from it.

🥲 (gimme a sec i gotta cry)

But the same blue tone was used in his panic attack as the camera zoomed in.

Now the ironic part was that they used warm lighting for the scenes with Claire, but it's not that unusual.

Warm lighting has always been used to also represent a time period in the past in addition to good/warm times.

What's ironic is what's literally colored in what should represent good times isn't working.

He's remembering his family in those same tones. The past isn't helping.

But the future does.

Enter Sydney in blue.

Now blue usually represents sadness (or calm) but it's also used in futuristic scenes.

*They benefit from the cold clinical look i guess🤷🏾‍♀️*

Then he becomes calm.

I can also say that their kitchen scenes in early season 2 are blue coded but it has a calm feeling not a distant feeling. It ironically feel warm and calming despite the cool tone.

This appears in a couple other scenes in the show when he's showing her the work done in the early season.

But color wise it's usually warm tones with them as the color kind of transitions in that scene. It's half half.

His view is warm because he thinks she's good with what he did and hers is cold because he ditched her so yeah.

Now shot wise let's discuss because it's a bit obvious.

The staff head mentioned loving close ups to show the characters emotion but also to convey a sense of what's not being said.

An example of his uncertainty with Claire is the car scene. In most of his shots it's extremely close to her and gives off an awkward vibe.

But when you go to her perspective, she's more open and his shots show background and more of his character, also reflecting their relationship with each other,

This persists with the kitchen scene as well.

When I rewatch it it has that same quality. It's a bit more pulled out (obviously as they literally spent the night together so anyone would feel closer) but there's still an awkward/dreamlike feel like when its on her like she's not quite based in reality.

Or in Carmy's self sabotaging view, too good to be true.

In comparison to Sydney, the shots with her are almost always wide and open.

We see it with them as early in season one with the outside scene where he's staring her down and gets her to open up.

You can argue that almost all of their shots are as equals, or in the same frame with an openness that have/represents when they're communicating with each other. (I'm def writing about their communication)

Sydney's character is ironically what a male lead would be like and Carmy would be more of the female archetype.

Which I really appreciate now that I think about it.

The male lead is usually very successful/good at what they do, hesitant to share but when they do you feel it and know it's sincere. They're usually more bumbly with expressing when they're emotional but when they do its like a huge release. And when they love it's very obvious and excessive at times.

In comparison, Carmy is very expressive, sensitive and aware. He's devoted (Claire sorry but you don't quite count) to things he's passionate about, willing to communicate and has traits of sensitivity.

His eyes and body tells what he's feeling almost immediately. (Also JAW is just an incredible actor)

In Kdrama land their roles would be switched. Hell I can argue some American dramas as well.

Back on topic though.

The Halo Effect is there. Like all the time.

To my next point-

2. The She Looks Away, I Look At Her

Now you may argue this is very Disney Rapunzel, all that coded.

You will also be correct.

I am a Disney (more Nick honestly) kid.

This too applies to the K-Drama world nay I would say it originated there (it did not).

Do you know how many shows I can name where the male lead is just hopelessly in awe as he stared at the female lead because she just insulted him and he wants to tell her he loves her in every way.

Ring ring.

I heard The Bear calling. Yeah imma need you to clock out on this gaslighting.

time to fangirl

Look at the gif sets!

But honestly, it's a common way to show that the character cares and wants a person without outright saying it.

You understand the vibes almost instantly.

He likes her. He wants more.

She likes him. She wants more.

3. Matching Clothes

This one is a simple one but we all know how common it is in K-Dramas to have a matching something.

A good example of a recent show is Extraordinary Attorney Woo, and how they almost always matched even if he was in casual clothing and she was in office clothes.

You're supposed to get a telepathy feel from them. Like they're on the same wavelength.

In ships/shows they usually subconsciously brainwash you into details of a relationship by having them wear or have something that reminds you of them.

In wardrobe, clothing is meticulously planned to match characters financial situation and express their personality. The clothes tell the story.

And the story usually is we go together. Real bad.

So yeah, sure in this scene/episode they were more in tune and tandem and as time went on they became more disjointed.

Granted they do work in a place with uniforms but I digress.

And lastly my third point part II-

Same But Different

If this were a kdrama there'd be like 0.00% chance that they WOULDN'T happen.

First they're the main leads so duh, and second the way that they parallel each other is insane.

There are many edits and examples of them directly mirroring each other in certain situations.

Scrubbing the floors when feeling lonely seemingly in the exact same spot, stressing in the freezer, saying stuff at the same time and their weird telepathy and answering each other's - sandwiches (that's what I was gonna say).

(sorry)

And if any of you say work wife I will rage cause let me catch my man laying under a table like that!!!

Sparta!

But for real, yes there's intimacy and friendship and all that but I ain't everr look at my friends of either gender like that.

If did I probably had feelings and just kept em in. And did the Carmy puppy eyes (TM).

And yes we are aware Carmy is emotionally constipated like a coke bottle filled with mentos with a tight cap on and his lack of a social life coupled with his (many) different mental illnesses/difficulties.

So he probably doesn't even recognize or even want to recognize them as such and honestly as a 4 lifer

I'm really sad but I don't think he'll confess in the next season.

I'm making a post about it but I'm also uncertain about it lasting more than three seasons as thematically and the way it was intended to be a movie I feel kind of uncertain.

It can extend to 4 but it was intended and the way it's narratively been flowing its exactly like a 3 act structure just spread out (like butter).

The next season is after the dark of night aka main character loses everything.

This season was fun and games - quite literally him having amusement and such. (Training Arc!!) It ended with his demise I'd say.

Now there's no where to go but up.

I'm not saying that it's impossible, but a 4th season would likely be more aimed toward getting a star or maintaining a star etc and family ties and such.

That'd be most likely when, if any, outwardly romantic contact should happen.

But they might surprise me.

Butt honestly in KDrama land there's no way the set up isn't romantic even if it was just a chef or professional focused show.

I'd say it'd be standard honestly for ones focused on career with a dash of romance.

Ex. Miss Hammurabi (best example)

The Good Doctor (Japanese Version)

There's probably more but I exclusively watch romance so 🤷🏾‍♀️.

In Conclusion,

Yes. They are end game.

I also wanna say how odd it is that this ship is attacked by fans of the show and non fans alike because I've literally grew up in the age of Rise of The Brave Tangled Guardians.

There's nothing more random than that time period.

They all dated each other!

Like my guy there's a Tony the Tiger x Grinch fic and don't even get me started on the Onceler selfcest as different flavors of himself (/j i love stuff like this)!

My point is it's not that unusual for the two leads to be shipped. Same gender or not.

I also have years of teenage brain rot developed from eating movies for breakfast so I know more than you! (/hj) I'm obviously right!

I will be discussing some more of this in length at a later date.

But I rest my case.

I will retreat into my cave until next time.

[frenchfrysplash]

.

hey under a read more because this is just some thoughts

watching the fun kathryn hahn show (haven't seen the finale yet) has got me analyzing my own reactions to television and media and I just want to take a moment to type it out into the void

basically I feel so anxious, and I've been struggling to identify why. like, I am really enjoying this show, but before I watch an episode I feel my stomach twist and my heart speeding up and I know it's anxiety. seeing spoilers or not seeing spoilers doesn't seem to make a difference - for example, I was so friggin TENSE before episode 5 because I had seen spoilers, and then I watched the episode and it was just....an episode. of a thing that I like. for the next couple episodes I tried blacklisting the title of the show and that STILL didn't work.

and I recognize that this is stupid! I recognize that it's not that fucking deep! and it's not specific to a show, this has also happened with legends of tomorrow and critical role. I think I can trace this back to watching carmilla and waiting for new episodes to drop. these are all pieces of media that I absolutely ADORE.

I do notice that it seems fairly specific to shows that are week-to-week rather than dropped all at once. But I also am of the strong opinion that week-to-week is the better way to release things. so what does that mean for me?

does this come from the anxiety of waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak, like with the 100 and lexa? like i'm just waiting for something terrible to happen to the characters I like, or the creators to make a choice I disagree with? (and if that's it, how stupid and entitled am I?) I was always that kid that skipped to the last page to make sure my favourite character survived. Or does this come from getting too hyper-fixated on something. I have all these memories of starting to watch a show with a family member or talking to a friend about something and then getting so into it or having too strong (and kinda dumb) opinions that the person no longer wants to talk about it or watch it with me. Does it come from that?

I have tried very hard in the last few years to just remove myself from these types of situations, and focus on other things I enjoy, like hobbies or reading or whatever. obviously I still watch tv shows, I just tend to wait until they're over, or watch old ones (the x-files, xena), or if they're so far ahead (critical role), or ones that drop all at once.

but it's just very frustrating to feel like this about things I enjoy and like. I can see how much love went into the kathryn hahn show, and I have really enjoyed watching it, but this anxiety it just ridiculous. am I just never going to be able to properly like things?

anyway this is just rambling - if you have read this, know that yes, I'm in therapy, I plan to talk about this aspect of my personality, I'm just writing into the void.

[cyberr-v0id]

I should probably make a proper introduction post so here goes

Hi hey hello wassup sup howdy hola hooray

My name is Leo but I also go by *lists a ton of names because I am genderfluid as hell, can’t choose just one, have a complicated relationship with my irl name, and eventually toss aside every name I go by* here’s the link to my full name post: https://www.tumblr.com/cyberr-v0id/731097944976228352/ok-so-as-i-apparently-use-a-lot-of-names-here-are

My main blog is @cyberr-v0id but I have a ton of side blogs, because who’s gonna stop me, the side blog police? I run a ton of gimmick blogs. You might know them. You might not.

I use he/she/they/fae and occasionally it sets of pronouns, and I am a genderfluid, afab, asexual, lesbian oriented demiromantic. Deal with it or leave :)

I currently have a crush on one of my awesome friends because I only develop crushes on people I have a strong bond with and/or have know for a while . Aka: my friends. It can be low-key awkward but we roll

I am Romani but don’t travel because reasons and I am kinda detached from my culture, but heck if I won’t defend it till my last breath

Now onto what I am interested in ehhehehehe

I AM SO GOSHDARN TOTALLY BRAIN IN THE SAND EYES GOUGED OUT INSANELY OBSESSED WITH ODYSSEUS RN. ITS A PROBLEM. IT KEEPS COMING BACK. IS THIS A HYPER FIXATION??? IS THIS A SPECIAL INTEREST? I HAVENT BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH (oh wait I should probably put that down as information then come back to my interests)

Ok so, I have never been diagnosed with anything ✨brain wise✨ however pretty much every autistic person I have ever met has said that they think I might be as well, without me even bringing it up, including my AuDHD brother. My mother has said repeatedly throughout my lifetime comments such as ‘are you sure you’re not autistic’ and ‘that is very autistic or you maybe we should get you diagnosed’ but then she denies it if i bring it up

My dad thinks I am adhd, my mum thinks I would be add rather than adhd because I am, to quote, ‘not hyperactive like [brothers name] is’. He is a twelve year old boy. I am a fifteen year old girl. I also take apart all my pens in lessons if I don’t have something less destructible to fidget with. Take that how you will

I personally have done a lot of of research into the both, and feel that I could be either, but slightly more likely adhd

I have a weird issue with my feet where the bones are too close together in places, which means I have really clicky ankle joints, am much more likely to have my ankles roll, twist, or give way, and often my legs hurt pretty bad, and my feet as well, while walking or standing for a long time. But hey! They’re getting better finally :D

OK SO NOW MY INTERESTS

I AM LITERALLY SO OBSESSED WITH ODYSSEUS HE IS ALL I HACE BEEN ABLE TO THINK ABOUT FOR LIKE THREE WEEKS NOW, I HAVE BEEN HIGHLIGHTING HIS NAME EVERY TIME I SEE IT IN THE ILIAD, I HAVE LISTENED TO THE EPIC MUSICAL EVERY NIGHT FOR OVER A WEEK, AND THIS IS ONLY THE SECOND TIME THIS YEAR THAT MY OBSESSION HAS APPEARED. AND IT GETS WORSE BY THE DAY.

I HAVE LITERALLY SAT AND RESEARCHED HIM AT BREAKFAST, I HAVE RANTED ABOUT HIM YO EVERY MEMBER OF MY FRIEND GROUP AND MY CRUSH SO MANY TIMES, MY ENGLISH TEACHER HAS BEEN SUBJECTED TO TWO ODYSSEUS RANTS THIS WEEK AND I HAD TO RESTRAIN MYSELF FROM INFODUMPING ON ONE OF MY MUSICAL THEATRE TEACHERS.

THE ONLY THING STOPPING ME FROM CREATING ODYSSEUS FAN ART IS MY ART SKILLS

Ahem

Onto other interests:

• mythology in general but the one I know the most about and am obsessed with the most is Greek mythology

• the owl house

• Percy Jackson, obviously

• amphibia

• the inheritance cycle

• the dragon prince

• miss peregrines home for peculiar children

•avatar the last air bender

•dragon age absolution

• how to train your dragon (books, films, series)

•the wizards of once

•dragons themself as a thing

•folklore and faeries

• nimona

•Dracula

•redwall

•and a heck ton more that I cannot think of. I’ll rant about it eventually if I love it that much

The main sports I do rn are archery, paddle boarding, and skateboarding, as well as dance through my musical theatre group. Also lightsaber fighting in my street

I do art and writing and reading and acting and lots more I do a lot and then I abandon my hobbies for a while, and jewelry making and sewing and

I’ll link some more posts here that may be useful to y’all:

And remember, this blog is ran by an Odysseus obsessed teen above all else

[cerberus253]

So, that Guy Named "Jack" and He Carries a Candle Around

After years not being on my mind, he finally showed up in my dreams some time ago and I've been thinking about him a lot (that's usually how my hyper-fixation gets re-kindled of an old character).

Contains- Canon Info, Headcanon Info (SFW and NSFW)

Veeeerrry long post

Canon:

- Is called "The Boogeyman. The For Real one."

- Poor back posture (is usually seen hunching over)

- Will kidnap you if you say his name out loud

- Loves Pumpkin Pie (just look at him smelling it!)

- Can levitate while awake and asleep, also those tied in his ropes

- Sleeps like a cat, does the "Stinky Face" like a cat (probably just squinting, but it's still cat-like), and does the "Raptor hands" thing

- Likes satirical sitcoms (F Troop)

- Polite and witty (he even holds his pinky finger up when holding his candle)

- Talks in monotone unless very upset

- Likes to eat peanuts

- Is rather one-track minded when kidnapping targets, ignoring those who have not said his name

- Is an escape artist

(pic of Candlej-- uh, y'know, right after Freakazoid (not pictured) trapped him. He got out pretty fast. Look at that cheeky bastard. Love 'im <3)

- The stitches on his mouth actually open up to a mouth (I saw it happen for a few seconds, so it's real)

Headcanon (SFW):

- Shows up and attempts to kidnap those who are actually scared by him, which are usually children.

- Answers to teens and adults if he wants to, since a lot of times it's for shits and giggles, parties, or weird cult stuff. Disrespect with the use of his name will not trigger him in this day and age!

- While Jack appreciates the wanted invitation to just hang out, he's rather an introvert and values his alone time, but does have his social moments.

- If he does show up [for adult strangers], and it isn't for kidnapping, its usually for Halloween-themed occasions (parties, fairs, carnivals, etc). Since it's usually around strangers, he just creeps around, watching people, either finding someone to scare or talking to those who seem interesting to him, or anyone who just comes up and chats to him. If at carnivals or fairs, he'd also play some of the games.

- I honestly believe, when his name is called, Jack can see the situation/setting he'll be getting himself into. Like, if just saying his name aloud will ALWAYS make him appear, then one could easily trap him in some max security prison. He'll know if he's floating into a trap or not, or if the callers aren't worth going after (especially in this day and age). Besides, if he came to everyone's beck and call, he'd be all over the place, and how could some people know about him yet be here? Survival of his kidnapping? Okay, so if you called again, he'd show up again, and now you'll know what to do to stop him. Why would he float into that? Anyway, yeah, I think Jack's picky and will only show up if you're actually afraid of him or are being serious about it.

- Has a strong sweet tooth, and likes salty treats. You will win him over if you can bake well AND bake his favorite things: Pumpkin Pie!

- Enjoys horror media (movies, TV shows, and books), specifically psychological and thriller ones. This includes watching people playing horror games or watching horror videos and get terrified by them. Will eat popcorn to it.

- Goes to candle and occult stores, which are the only places he'll actually pay for things other than rope. Where does he get the money? Uh... *whistles*

- Enjoys moonlit graveyard night walks (floats?), reading in dimly lit libraries, exploring old, haunted abodes, morning Autumn forest walks, etc.

- Pocket Dimension in his gloves, boots, and sack mask. He's gotta put all that rope somewhere.

- When outside of his kidnapping/villain hobby, he doesn't talk to strangers as much, preferring to let the other person go first, then indulging in conversation if he likes them enough.

- Doesn't talk about too personal of stuff unless he really really likes the person.

- Great listener and observer! Will be the kind of guy to remember seemingly small and insignificant details about someone he likes!

- Struggles to express his emotions normally, but when they are extreme they are noticeable (EX: The Peanut Incident of '97).

- Knows how to do all kinds of rope knots, easy and complicated.

- Doesn't mind physical contact, but isn’t the one to initiate unless it’s for scares. A little nervous if it’s romantic/sexual. Despite this, the Ghost-Man is TOUCH-STARVED, he's just unsure when it’s a good time to indulge himself.

- Jack is normally polite, and a little cheeky, to strangers, but when it comes to friends, he's also kind and considerate.

- Doesn't feel bad about kidnapping people, nor what happens to them after. However, if you strike up a good conversation, and get him to like you enough, he might change his mind. It would be a shame if such an interesting and compassionate person were to disappear and never be seen again... Don’t worry, he won’t stalk you (unless…👉👈 maybe he likes you a little too much 🙄)

- Why does Jack like to scare people and kidnap them? Yeah, he's weird, but what if it's because he's lonely and he didn't know how to socialize? Like, what if he was a creepy and weird kid that liked spooky things growing up, so people avoided him and he didn't know how to converse with his peers, so he found out that scaring people was a way to get them to notice him? Ya know, like "bad attention is better than no attention?" So now, as an adult, it's just what he does on a day-to-day basis because he's so used to it? Just a Theory.

- Jack’s a kind of Sheet Ghost. Him and the burlap and cotton/leather apparel are separate, like removable skin. Without it, he cannot eat. He doesn’t have to eat, but he likes to.

- Likes animals that people deem creepy/scary (insects, arachnids, deep sea fish, snakes, bats, etc.), but his favorite ones are black cats.

- Enjoys surprise gifts, including: Old books, old candle holders, baked goods, and spooky/creepy knick-knacks.

- I see him more as a Giver than a Taker kind of guy in any relationship, but when it comes to physical affection, he’s nervous and doesn’t usually initiates unless he can’t help himself, or he knows and trusts you enough.

- If ya wanna be friends with him, ya gotta be open and accepting of his (non-criminal) behaviors. Simply going out of your way to talk to him when he's around tells him you might want to be friends with him.

- If Jack [also] wants to be friends with you, he'll purposefully seek you out on occasions, scaring the shit out of you when you're least expecting it. Then he'll get down to casual stuff.

- If you have some sort of sensual (not sexual) relationship with him, he will accept cuddles and hugs when you need them. In addition, if you have trouble sleeping, he’ll sit/lay next to you to keep you company (might fall asleep himself).

- I’m gonna say this: Jack does, in fact, live somewhere. I am going to headcannon that he lives in an abandoned Victorian mansion that was left alone for so long that even time forgot it and now it sits between Life and Death in mist strewn woods. When people go missing on their own, they may stumble across it, seemingly empty, but Jack doesn’t like that someone literally entered his place so he scares them out. On the other hand, sometimes he invites close friends over for some quiet spooky time, but that hardly ever happens.

- His place is old, dusty, and dirty, which he doesn’t mind, but he also wouldn’t mind if someone wanted to clean it up (maybe that's why he kidnaps people). Just don’t kick out the rats and bats, change the aesthetic of the place, break anything that isn’t already damaged, install too many modern things, that sort of stuff. He still wants it to be old and creepy, but he understands if you need to charge your phone.

- If ya wanna be more than friends with him, ya gotta not only be open and accepting of him, but love the strange, dark, and mysterious things in the world (which includes him). Someone who’s kind, understanding, weird (complimentary), enjoys being alone with him, but also goes along with him when he wants to socialize; someone who isn’t extremely loud and energetic, but does give life and warmth around him; has a lot of similar interest with him, etc.

- Anyway, I think Jack is pretty inept when it comes to people flirting with him. I mean, yeah, he recognizes someone being really nice to him, but to get romantic, even physically? Nah, that's silly! Falling for a ghost is weird! Once he does get it, I think he'd be rather awestruck and confused, not really knowing what to think.

- However, you'll know he reciprocates when he leaves little gifts for you to discover (possibly even a Treasure Hunt!). or maybe even doing small domesticated things, like doing dishes, making breakfast/dinner for you, making your bed, etc. I don't see him doing laundry (undergarment respect) nor dusting, though. If he doesn't do anything, you'll definitely know he's been around because of the smell he leaves behind (candles and smoke).

- He struggles to know when you really need him around when it comes to emotional/mental struggles. Don’t get me wrong, he can recognize when you’re feeling that way, but doesn’t know what to do or if you need alone time, so he’s going to need you to tell him to stay or go, listen or give advice, and/or to touch or not to touch. Whatever it is, he’ll do it for ya because he cares and worries on the inside (referencing back to the struggle to express emotions). Communication 👏 Is 👏 Key 👏

- Not into hook-up culture. Definitely, at least, Grey-A in both romantic and sexual departments. Like, yeah, Elvira, Mistress of Darkness is a very pretty lady that he crushes on, but personally may be a little much for him.

- Appreciates if you helped clean his clothing attire. Being in the woods or a dusty mansion can get ya pretty dirty.

- Isn’t too picky with other peoples’ apparel, but he is fond of gothic attire. I want to say his favorites would be: Traditional, Romantic, Mopey, Victorian, and Medieval.

- Will help you with your make-up, King/Queen ✌️

- Okay listen, I don’t doubt that Jack may stalk people he has strong romantic interest in, because he’s a weirdo, BUT he is RESPECTFUL about it. He will watch you watch TV, doing chores, cooking and eating, doing sit-alone hobbies (reading, art, gaming, etc), doing taxes, sleeping (a BIG one), etc.

- He will NOT watch you do anything too…revealing (showering/bathing, changing, etc). He may be weird and lack certain social skills, but he knows when to look away…

Headcannon (Suggestive/NSFW):

-… HOWEVER, if he knows that he’s allowed to look at you naked, or doing naughty things, he will. He will. Might even sneak up on you to scare you, then to “help you out,” if ya know what I mean~ Despite this, I don’t think he’d be the kind of guy to watch and pleasure himself while doing so. I just can't think of him doing that. He's weird and creepy, not sick and perverted.

- Would set up a relaxing bath (with candles, of course!) for you after a long and hard day, resting against the side of the tub while you’re bathing, watching and listening to you. Maybe helping you wash yourself.

- Jack comes off as a Soft Switch to me, mostly leaning Soft Dom.

- Remember the “he knows how to do all kinds of knots?” Yeah, he’d have fun with bondage. I don’t think he’d be really aggressive with it, but in fact passionate and loving. Wouldn’t want you getting rope burn.

- If he did decide to “unwrap his gift,” he would do it carefully (again, to avoid rope burn) and methodically, speaking softly, monotonously, and sweetly while he comments on how beautiful you (his gift) is 💛

- I mean, you can suggest he use soft or lace-like binding rope fabrics so he doesn’t have to worry about hurting you, but he prefers classic, plant fiber rope 👌

- Expect playful teasing from him, both verbally and physically. Will use words like “naughty,” “silly,” “little tease,” “my beloved toy,” etc, and would tell you to mind your Ps and Qs (English Idiom for “manners”) if you want him to do something for you.

- Will call you sweet nicknames like, “pumpkin,” “darling,” “my dear,” “little moth,” etc.

- Normally he’d be wearing regular burlap cloth, which is rather irritating to skin (luckily he doesn’t have any), but when he wears the softer kind, you know he’s looking for a lot of physical affection.

- With said soft fabric on, Jack can finally really touch and feel you up as much as he wants and as long as he wants, really squishing, massaging, and fondling all those soft and squishy curves and crevices of yours~ 🖤

- If you want to really get him Turned On: LACE. NIGHTGOWNS. Walk around the house with it on, sleep with it on, cuddle with it on, get intimate with it on, etc. Just seeing the delicate fabric loosely hang around your form, and the intricate lace designs flowing around your chest, sides, and edges (also sleeves if applicable) makes him giddy and warm up fast. If you’re not wearing any undergarments underneath, I think he’ll get the message why you’re flaunting yourself in front of him~ 💖

- In addition, since he's so into scaring people, I think he'd be into playing Hide n' Seek/Cat and Mouse, with you hiding (the Mouse) and him seeking (the Cat). He'd be talking a lot during it, saying things like, "Where oh where has my darling gone?~," "I'll find you soon, my pretty~," and "Come out come out wherever you are, little one~."

- Of course, after finding you, he would love for you to try to run from him! "You can run, but you can't hide, my dear!~," "Running only excites me more, once I catch you, my little moth!~"

- After getting caught, "There, finally! I've caught you now, little rascal~ Now to make sure you won't be running from me any longer, love~" *brings out the bondage rope*

- I honestly don’t think he’d be into violent and aggressive sexual interaction. Like, despite his love to scare, I don’t think he’d try to bruise nor hold a real knife to your throat or anything like that. Legit the worst he’d do would be pretending to choke you or leave red marks on your skin.

- Jack’s favorite parts of you are anything squishy and soft, which includes chest/breasts, stomach, love handles, butt, and thighs. He just adores it when you smile and giggle while he lovingly squeezes any of said parts, and will continue to do so for your arousal. Then he’ll go for the other soft and sensitive spot that will surely get you heated and huffing~ 💗 Be careful not to say his full name, though! Or he'll just tighten those ropes around you!

- I’m not sure if intercourse would even be possible, but I know he’d take great pleasure in pleasuring you in any way he can, whether it be massaging, fondling, fingering, or using sex toys on you (maybe he has specific apparel that has a hollow dildo attached to his crotch so he can be in you XD).

- Jack would like really any position, but I think he’d prefer to hug and play with you from behind. He likes to feel you press into him (or he pressing you into him) when you’re rhythmically gyrating from his touch, and even better if it’s into the bed (he wants to be squished by you👌).

- Another location would be in front of a mirror so you, and him, can see yourself getting fondled/fingered/loved/fucked by him, blushing, smiling, and giggling, all the while stealing glances when your eyes aren’t shut from the pleasure. Additionally, turn your head and give him soft yet passionate kisses, using a possible free hand to hold his face against yours, to make him just as giddy👌👌

- One thing he would prefer is doing it in the dark, or dimly lit space with only candles to light it. Maybe start off in a dimly lit room, and one by one, over the course of the passionate and romantic affection, they’d be blown out until pitch blackness. That’s when he’d start fingering/fucking you, when your sense of sight is unreliable so your sense of hearing and touch are strengthened. Kinky AF~

Closing Notes:

- Like I said before, I see Jack as more of a Giver than a Taker. With friends, and close friends, he’s rather tolerant to all kinds of folks: Loud, quiet; eccentric, secluded; freaks, geeks, creeps, and weirdos; neurotypicals and neurodivergent, etc, just don’t be an asshole (racist, sexist, homophobic, a rapist, all that stuff). He enjoys watching the diversity of people.

- However, when it comes to romantic relationships, I see him like how I am: Yeah, I may have a handful of people I crush on/admire, but you have to really catch my interest for me to actually pursue you, which is quite rare.

- The types of people I think Jack would have strong interests in are the quiet, introverted/extroverted-introvert ones, and outcast types. He’d want someone who is kind, sweet, accepting of him, (trying to) understand(s) him, exclusive, mindful, considerate, weird (affectionate), giving, observant, patient, unique, quiet but not shy, has many similar interests as him, indulges in his hobbies, and their weirdness matches his weirdness.

- Then there’s the “darker” side of said person he’d also like: Reflective, mysterious, a loner (but not truly isolating), gloomy, obsessive (with interests and hobbies), struggles to show emotions but can express them, and prefers to have personal/intimate alone time with him rather than dates or parties every weekend.

[yourspineislookingsharp]

ah hyper fixation my old friend come to stab me in the back and watch my blood pour from my body like my motivation (strong erotic undertones in the stabbing)

[allthegoodusernamesaretakenagain]

Hi Holly, my favourite favourite author! 👋

I came to poke you with some interaction stick. You can ignore me ^__-

BUT, if you are ok with answering a few Get To Know The Author questions:

What is the first Zelda game you've ever played?

Hopes about TOTK?

Do you have a book that you think impacted you the most? Or one that you think back to most often (can be a fanfic)?

Favourite fanfic of course ^^?

Oh my god this is so sweet, little old ME??? Of course I will answer best I can <3

1. The first ever Zelda game I played was the DS games, Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks. My Nan was a very big fan and I have fond memories of sitting in her kitchen and playing the games and she loved helping me with all the boss fights. I know they aren’t the best games in the series, however, they hold a lot of nostalgia for me. I never did complete them though, I just watched my Nan do it instead.

2. Oo that’s a good one. One of my main hopes for TOTK is to see a really well developed story. I know that’s super basic but one of the things I loved so much about BOTW was the memories and characters, so I really hope there’s some sort of memory adjacent gameplay that develops the characters more. Also, I kind of got tired of shrines in BOTW so I’m hoping for something new to explore in this game. But my main hope isn’t anything too specific other than a good game. What I want might not be what fits, so I just hope the years of waiting are worth it!

3. A book that genuinely impacted and stayed with me was Little Women. The narrative of following four strong, unique, and amazing woman through a little domestic life really made me reflect on myself. I’m a child of five (much like Quentin) and it made me think about what relationships like that mean. It made me want to write about domestic relationships and environments as much as others. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak is another, which is a story narrated by death. It has a one line at the end: “I am haunted by humans.” and I think there is so much beauty and wonder in that. The idea of ‘humans’ can mean so much, and it always sticks with me when I write. And I can’t not talk about my favourite, albeit very sad, book. A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness. It’s a shorter novel but it’s so beautiful. It tells the meaning of letting go even when you don’t want to, and acknowledging how you feel. My favourite quote ever from that book is: “I wish I had a hundred years. A hundred years I could give to you.” And that book has just stuck with me.

4. Omg favourite fan fiction is so hard. I go through so many hyper-fixations. One that I always come back to is this fan fiction called Sorcerers Bane by BeautifulFiction for the Merlin Fandom. I remember reading it like crazy and nothing has topped that mad rush to finish it since. I can’t believe that fandom is still alive today tbh.

Thank you for the great questions, the ask made me all happy it’s so cool to have people interested, I get all flustered. Never feel like you’re bothering me haha I will always answer :)

I hope those answered your questions!!

[4uru]

Being in the shadowhunters fandom is fucking wild,

bc i famously dont like cc and been here for 3 years now holy shit, some of the ppl here were here before i could even say goo goo gaga and shit,

so lemme explain my journey that nobody asked for✌️🤡

i have a strong hate for tmi, bc it traumatised me at the ripe age of twelve and book malec made my queer tween brain think i was a mistake and a stain on the universe for being a closeted bisexual.

The only character i cared about was simon and then cc made him cheat on the two most wonderful women. That didnt go well with my divorced parent having ass. Do i need to mention that it was around this time i came out to my parents during quarantine of 2020 june and promptly got shafted and traumatised. 🙃

I only read tmi bc my stepmother got me chog. And i read a 100 pages before i decided i needed context for this shit.

Anyway, I finished tmi, hated it, wanted to read tda, then went on to read tda, illegally, and got shafted when I found out I accidentally read summaries of the first two books. And not the books itself, got angry at me for being dumb and then went to read the 3rd book, finished it in a haze of rage and sleep and I barely remember what happened.

I tried to litsen to the audiobook of tid and after like 7 hours, the first part, i fell asleep. And lost patience to rewind the whole thing.

So i gave up and instead finished chog and then finished choi but i barely remember anything.

Last year around september i downloaded the whole tid triology to finish it, i made it to the point i left off last time, but got bored.

I got thru 7hours of ghost of shadow market on yt before it got deleted 👀

I skimmed Sobh bc the writing style there is fucking atrocious I do not know what happened, and I'm not sure if I want to know either. I maybe will read twp when I'm an old man with chronic back pain and way too much free time on my hands. So yeah. I will read Chot bc of Alastair Carstairs and Alastair Carstairs only.

Love some ppl in this fandom, but they don't know me yet. Did feel good during Alastair Carstair month when I was most active with my fics and drawings and I saw my fav blogs reblog my stuff. i had extreme fanboy moments .

I fill the void in my heart cc created by drawing her actually good and fleshed-out characters.

I loathe this woman for many thing and one of them is, creating this blasted universe which has so much potential; which would be so much better if someone who knows what they are doing got their hands on it.

I may or may not have 17361881367829 plot Lines that serve only one purpose, "have jace and clary not kiss when they believe they are siblings and sebastine doesn't have a raging hard on for them"

So I'm just a Bengali queer+trans teen with a hyper fixation. This fandom is my hell but I got comfortable. I come in and out, and each time watch it becomes just a little bit worse than before.

[myanxiousebrain]

hgn... the AUs in my head demand freedom...

note: all aus will eventually escape my brain, this poll is to decide which one I should hyper-fixate on right now.

au descriptions under the cut:

Witch Town au:

after Draxum's lab explodes, Splinter stays in the mystic city instead of going above ground, eventually moving to Witch Town. April is still friends with the turtles (she met them via portal practice accident with Leo). Each of the turtles would have a different magic specialty (all I have figured out so far is Donnie == an alchemist, and maybe Leo == illusions/ stage magic). This AU starts like a month before the show begins and then continues through the events of ROTTMNT, mostly exploring what would happen if the turtles had WAY more practice with mysticism than in the show.

important notes:

__________________________

Triple divorce au:

Draxum made the turtles completely legally, with both Big Mama and Lou Jitsu/Splinter agreeing to it, so long as they both got to have a presence in the turtles' lives growing up, however, after the turtles were made, Big Mmama tried to get full custody rights over the turtles but the court said no to that. TLDR Draxum and Splinter get joint custody over the turtles, with Big Mama getting visitation every other week. Splinter gets weekdays and draxum weekends. Draxum has his redemption arc much sooner in this au, realizing that not all humans suck after getting to know April through the turtles. This AU focuses on the turtles growing up and how their lives would be, and the main plot of ROTTMNT, just with draxum being good the whole time. (this entire AU came from me thinking "What if they knew Big Mama as like their mom who divorced their dad" while watching Bug Busters for the Nteenth time)

important notes:

__________________________

IDK what to call this AU:

Big Mama accepts Splinter's marriage proposal but first reveals that she's a yokai, Splinter doesn't care at all and says he'll love her no matter what, and moves in with her. Eventually, he decides to fight in the battle nexus, because it seems exciting (note: he CHOOSES to fight in it and can stop at any time he wants, unlike in canon where he had no choice). After fighting for a while, draxum sees him and decides to use him for the mutants like in Cannon, UNLIKE in Cannon however, Big Mama comes in right after the explosion and right before Splinter gets mutated, having her watch as he gets mutated, she rushes in and takes him & the turtles home. Big Mama puts a bounty on Draxums head for what he did. The Turtles grow up with Big Mama and Splinter as their parents. They met April because she and her family were staying in the Nexus Hotel after a mold infestation in their home. This AU follows the plot of the show. (pls give ideas for the name of this, I'm begging)

important notes: Splinter x Big Mama, Leo is the heir to Big Mama's empire

__________________________

Adopted Cass AU:

On 7-year-old Cassandra Jones's first day in the foot clan, before she really had strong ties to it, she fell down an open manhole while she & the other recruits were following Foot Lieutenant and sprained her ankle, but it's ok! they'll come back for her in 3 minutes, just wait! Then 3 minutes becomes 30 minutes, becomes 60 minutes, becomes 3 hours... no one is coming to get her, are they? eventually, she's found & taken in by Splinter and raised as the turtle's intense, but well-meaning, sister.

[ammiemarie]

An Ode to 72

It's hard to believe this saga has almost come to an end.

The check has been sent and received. The final payments have been made. The bills are paid up and paid off. The taxes are paid.

The space between four century-old walls that would have been my home will soon be relinquished.

I feel overwhelmed with grief for a home that was never mine. For a life that I never lived. For a relationship that never existed. For a vision of love that persisted for more than three decades.

It's been 18 months since I last looked upon your face or heard your voice. In the span of a child's lifetime, it seems like such a long time ago... but now, as a 33 year old woman, it doesn't seem so far away.

On that fateful New Years Eve, you attempted to take my life and yours. You waited for my husband and mother-in-law to leave to get us all lunch. You waited until we were alone. You were prepared. You already had the gun by your side. It took you less a few seconds to retrieve it as once laid on your bed beside you just moments before.

You looked not through me, but beyond me, in your psychotic rage. Your eyes were dark and lifeless. Soulless. You were not in there, not really. Someone else had taken over. Someone I had seen handfuls of times in the midst of punishment growing up.

In that moment, you had the case open, and your hand was on the gun, ready to pull it out when I made the split second decision to grab the case instead of talk you out of whatever you were about to do.

I latched the case closed. You overpowered me and unlatched it. We struggled for more than ten minutes like this as we slowly descended to the ground. It was the closest I had been to you since I was a young girl, entangled with your hands as I tried to release your grip on your gun.

It took every ounce of strength within me to pull you away from the gun. To keep you from being able to pull it fully out of the case.

My nails dug into the palms of my hands as I tried to keep your wrists at bay. I tore the soft tissues around my left lung and breast. I sprained the ligaments in my wrists making it impossible to use a computer or write anything for nearly three months.

In all your reported weaknesses through illness and age, you were very strong. You were stronger than me, as you always have been.

But this time... I weighed more than you.

For the first time in my life, I had the advantage because I weighed more than you did. In my mixture of grief and depression, my weight had ballooned back to a record high... a debilitating defeat I am not proud of. I watched the shape of my reflection change in the mirror as the weight of loss and hopelessness settled into my bones.

And because of my weight, I was able to push you down with my left knee, distracting you long enough to break free your grasp, and toss the gun away from both of us.

You were so hyper-focused on the gun, you didn't pay attention to anything else. It was the only thing you wanted. In your fixation, trying to pry the latch of the gun case open with your teeth, I managed to free my hand for a moment, just a moment, and throw it a few feet away from both of us.

Those moments were so terrifying. They haunted me for months afterwards. I dreamed horrible, horrible dreams drenched in death, disappointment, and fear. One small mistake could've meant you would take control, steady your aim, and fire.

And just as you brought me into this world just a mere 32 years before, you would have taken me out of it. And, almost certainly, you would have taken yourself in the aftermath, too.

I was plagued with endless days of sleeping for weeks, tirelessly unable to function at all... and then, in the polar opposite affect, I was plagued with insomnia for weeks after that.

For the inner child within me who never knew a mother's love. For the little girl who so desperately wanted that bond to exist. For the young woman who spent her twenties trying to save the life of the woman who brought her life.

For the broken girl within her who became a woman all too quickly, being thrusted into motherhood by the married 40-something man who was her father's closest friend. For the young woman who trying to raise two young girls, never healing from her own childhood traumas. For the adult woman who succumbed to the very mental illnesses she sought to escape that plagued her own mother, never fully realizing her own potential.

If there is anything I have learned from all of this... I cannot save anyone from the monster within themselves.

Now, I finally understand it.

Our journey through healing isn't meant to be shared with those who came before us... it's to help those who come after us.

I have to break the cycle for me.

For my future. For my children. For my grandchildren.

I will always love you, mother.

But for my own sake, for my dreams of who I want to be, for who I am meant to become... for the future me, for my future children...

I must let you go.

... and so, I shall.

I hope you find whatever it you are looking for in this life. I hope you find that spark of happiness that brings you joy. I hope you heal your heart from within and radiate with love and truth.

I don't know if this is goodbye forever. Maybe someday, the winds will blow in a different way, and you may find yourself missing the person you once were... the person you wanted to be. Maybe someday, you'll remember the faces of your daughters and yearn to hear their laughter and whispers of, "I love you," once more.

Forever is a long time, but maybe?... doesn't always have to be forever. So, maybe we will see each other again someday.

Heal yourself, mother. Please.

I believe in you. I believe you can.

I forgive you.

[paaaartieeeeees]

“Before you knew it, you felt a hand wander over, finding its way in between your thighs, pushing through soft flesh, and curling up until Eddie’s hand splayed out just below your bellybutton. With a strong yank, you were pulled backwards, right into him, butt first. You didn’t know why he had to pull you over to his side of the bed by your vagina, but, here you were.”

THIS IS FROM THAT TIKTOK ISN’T IT?!?!?? 😱😱😱

““You smell like the bath,” Eddie whispered, inhaling the sickly-sweet artificial scent bath pearls had left on your skin.”

I’m about to age myself but OH MY GOD THE BATH PEARLS. This is historically accurate (take it from someone who was old enough to use these in the 90’s).

“Over the years your heart had shattered many times for Eddie. Looking at him then, all tall, hair longer than it’d ever been, tattoos on show, sort of... flashy looking with all his chains and rings and his shiny black pointed toe boots – he looked like the rockstar the public knew him as. But all you could see was a fragile fearful little boy who seemingly had shrunk down enough for you to fit him into your pocket, and your heart shattered once more.”

ughhh this image! 😢

““Baby, come here.” You’d reached for him, and he’d instantly fallen into you, both arms around your waist, face pressed against your chest, your hand in his hair.”

🥹🥹🥹

“Eddie was kind and nice and would call his therapist whenever he needed to, would go see her on a semi-regular basis. He'd tell you about his schedule and it was never just an announcement, but instead was always a question: does this work for us? Are we okay with this?

Eddie always chose you and made sure you really felt it because Eddie knew. Eddie understood that for fucking years you’d felt the exact opposite.”

you’re killing my over here 😭😭😭

“Then, he’d moved onto something else. Needed something different to spark all the things within him that needed sparking.”

my partner is a recovering alcoholic/drug user and when they got sober this is exactly what happened. The hyper fixations, the hobbies, the new interests. It’s been several years and it’s still like this but on a much more toned down level, thank goodness 😅

“There was obviously something going on. Steve had taken off his sunglasses and revealed puffy skin and red-rimmed eyes. The hostile tone his wife had spoken with to you hadn't left your mind yet, either.”

oh my gosh poor Steve!! I feel like Steve got neglected in the chaos that was Eddie and reader and he needs some love and attention and care and I hope he gets what he deserves ❤️

I am so so so so happy this story is continuing!! I’ve loved this story and am so glad that it’s back and I hope you continue with it!! I can’t wait to read more!

Not Enough

♥ ♥  rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie's hauled you off to LA because, turns out, when you're not throwing your life away on booze and drugs, opportunities tend to lead to more opportunities. LA's amazing, and Eddie's amazing, and suddenly life is all about sun-freckles and exciting accomplishments but... something's missing.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, angst, mentions of substance abuse and addiction, trauma

Author’s note: This story continues my Eddie story that consists of “Only Now”, “Over Now”, “Then Again” and "Never Over". I've done my best to make it so that you don't really need to read all previous parts, but, it always helps.

Wordcount: 5.2K

(find all other parts of this story here)

The mattress dipped behind you before cold air wafted underneath the covers. Movement, noise of skin against fabric, fabric against fabric, and then the noise of a heavy head meeting the pillow next to you in an exhale.

Eddie was home.

Before you knew it, you felt a hand wander over, finding its way in between your thighs, pushing through soft flesh, and curling up until Eddie’s hand splayed out just below your bellybutton. With a strong yank, you were pulled backwards, right into him, butt first. You didn’t know why he had to pull you over to his side of the bed by your vagina, but, here you were.

Arms curled around you, a knee pushed your legs apart, just to sit in between, and within just a few seconds you found yourself fully tangled up together. Heavy limbs, deep inhales, bodies wiggling until they fit together just perfectly for sleep.

“Mhm,” was all you managed as Eddie used careful fingers to move your hair aside before he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You felt the brush of his lips all the way down in your toes and relished under his protective touch.

“You smell like the bath,” Eddie whispered, inhaling the sickly-sweet artificial scent bath pearls had left on your skin.

“Mhm, you smell like studio,” you croaked back, meaning you could smell cigarettes and stale sweat the long day had left on him. It wasn’t meant to be a dig at how you thought he smelled bad – it was fine. Kind of nice, actually. It was more a dig at Eddie having spent all hours of the day, and some of the night too, cooped up inside a dark little room with a bunch of other men. You’d have liked for some of those hours to have been spent with you.

“I think we’ve done it,” Eddie’s voice slipped into a whisper mid-sentence. “Finished it.”

You hummed in reaction, just to let him know that you heard him. Eddie'd said the same thing two weeks ago, but then, the next day, there were a million things to change and redo and add and take away - this album was becoming the bane of Eddie's existence.

But he said they'd finished it now, and you hoped it was true this time.

Maybe that’s why they’d worked until the early hours of the morning. Creative work didn’t really stick to set schedules – didn’t really stick to time in general. Which... it wasn’t a problem. Not really. Not in the grand scheme of things. But time and you weren’t really getting on all that well lately. There was just so much of it.

Ever since you’d moved to California with Eddie, there’d been so much time.

Too many hours in a day. Too many minutes in every hour. Too many seconds to make you think because there wasn’t really anything to do.

Turns out that when you’re sober and learn to actually show up to things; gigs, radio interviews, award shows, TV performances, movie premiers, photoshoots, writing sessions, and even things like fundraisers, album release parties of other artists... if you show up and do the work, act and behave like the professional musician that you are, you actually... make the money.

And there was a lot more money in this game than you thought Eddie would ever be able to make.

It also really helped that he wasn’t spending all of it on substances and hotel room damages. Not that Eddie didn’t have other ways to blow through his cash, though.

But, what the steady income of insane amounts of money mostly meant was the lack of work it left for you.

Eddie had hired designers to do the interior design of the LA house. Eddie had hired a personal chef to take care of every meal the two of you could ever want. Eddie had hired gardeners, a pool guy, cleaners, and a personal assistant who got fired almost instantly because they ended up just doing your laundry.

You knew it was all coming from a good place. The best place.

It had taken a lot from Eddie to work himself up to ask you if you’d want to move to LA with him. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel forced to move halfway across the country, just because he kind of needed to for work. Correction, he didn’t really need to. It would just be easier, way more convenient. Half the band was already making plans to leave Indiana and sure, Eddie could travel. He could fly in and out and you could too, and you absolutely could’ve figured out a way to live like that.

But when Eddie carefully asked, you’d not even hesitated for a second.

It actually took some real convincing from your side, because Eddie immediately backtracked and said to forget it. He didn’t want to burden you. It was a stupid idea to begin with, he could tell his manager to work out something else, because you had a job and an apartment and a life and how could Eddie ever even think to burden you like that?

“Burden me with what? Your life?” you’d asked, looking at him like he was insane. But Eddie had shrugged his shoulders up and you’d realised that that was exactly what it was.

Over the years your heart had shattered many times for Eddie. Looking at him then, all tall, hair longer than it’d ever been, tattoos on show, sort of... flashy looking with all his chains and rings and his shiny black pointed toe boots – he looked like the rockstar the public knew him as. But all you could see was a fragile fearful little boy who seemingly had shrunk down enough for you to fit him into your pocket, and your heart shattered once more.

“Baby, come here.” You’d reached for him, and he’d instantly fallen into you, both arms around your waist, face pressed against your chest, your hand in his hair.

“We live in a shitty little apartment above a bar where I serve beers to the same seven middle aged men all day,”

“But your life is here, you love your job,”

“No, I loved the sense of independence it gave me when I moved out of Hawkins, I loved learning new skills, getting better at working with new people,” you needed him to know within his bones that what he was asking of you wasn’t a burden.

“What I love more,” you elongated the word more and felt Eddie nuzzle his nose against your collar bone, ready for you to list some shit that would make him feel better.

“Is how you sold your massive penthouse of a place for me, how you came to live with me above a bar, how you trust me with your schedule, how you always check in with me, how you value my opinion, how you don't hesitate to cancel plans because of me, how you come and pick me up from work which, I don't know how you do it, but you do do it, you do it all the time– Eddie, you keep choosing me, and–” your voice went up an octave as your throat closed up.

“Don’t cry,”

But you couldn’t help it.

Eddie had sold the penthouse because it reminded you too much of bad times. Awful times when Eddie drank mouthwash and tried to convince you he wouldn't finish the bottle but then had called you all sorts of names when you tipped it over and washed the remnants down the drain.

Eddie came to live with you, because he practically already was anyway. But your place was a small apartment, a place that smelled of beer and liquor 80 per cent of the time. And Eddie said he was fine. He'd bake bread and cake and pastries, and you'd cried when you realised it was to cover up the smell of bar you carried on you after a shift.

Eddie was kind and nice and would call his therapist whenever he needed to, would go see her on a semi-regular basis. He'd tell you about his schedule and it was never just an announcement, but instead was always a question: does this work for us? Are we okay with this?

Eddie always chose you and made sure you really felt it because Eddie knew. Eddie understood that for fucking years you’d felt the exact opposite.

Eddie would sort of choose you, just for a few days, and then he'd leave and not contact you for months.

But that was before. Eddie chose you every day now.

He wasn’t a burden to you.

He truly wasn’t.

Eddie had burdened you. For years. Not anymore, though. Everything was fine now.

Wasn’t it?

Eddie had been good. So good. He’d found ways to wade through life without the drink. Got so deeply into cooking and baking for a bit as his new obsession. Needed all the best pots and pans, until he had a whole collection of expensive kitchenware that cluttered up all kitchen storage.

Then, he’d moved onto something else. Needed something different to spark all the things within him that needed sparking.

Now that you lived in LA, in a much larger house with so much more space, the garage, one of two, was filled with Eddie’s latest hobby: pinball machines. He’d get them shipped in from all over, all special kinds, real rare ones, machines crafted by specific craftsmen, graphics designed into specific themes.

It wasn’t even about playing, Eddie just… wanted to collect the best ones and wanted them all lined up, all shiny with lights flickering and music playing.

Sometimes you'd tell him, come on Eddie, invite over the old gang, get Mike and Dustin and Lucas in here for a weekend, do a big pinball tournament. But Eddie'd just smile and tell you when he'd be expecting the next one to be delivered.

Before pinball machines it had been neon lights. And you’d been supportive. Would drive out to weird thrift stores, vintage markets and often times random people’s houses until you’d said, “Ed, I’d like the bedroom to be calm and neutral… we don’t need a big blue neon sign in here that used to hang outside of that restaurant you really like...”. 

Eddie had laughed at himself then and realized the absurdity of what the house was turning into, had apologized, and then had sold all of them.

Except for the blue one.

The one that used to hang outside that restaurant he really liked. Where the owner would serve him apple juice in a wine glass and would seat Eddie in an area where he wouldn’t be able to see the bar. And then he’d play a Corroded Coffin song – just one, to show his appreciation for the visit, and then, wouldn’t let you pay the full bill, some dishes would always miraculously go missing.

Eddie kept that neon light which found a proud spot in a hallway upstairs that lead to one of the guest rooms.  

Yeah.

Overall, Eddie had been good. 

But some days, he’d wake up and he’d feel an inside want. Knew it meant something else was wrong, and this was just how his brain was wired to cope with it. He’d done work to rewire, but sometimes, wires crossed and all he really wanted was quick relief. 

In those moments, he knew he’d have find something else to satisfy that inside want. The need for quick relief.  

In those moments, he’d find you. 

Eddie had you there. Always with him. Stuck to his hip, and vice versa.

So, you had quit your job for him. You had moved across the country for him. You had given up your whole life for him Eddie thought, even though you assured him time and time again that this was the exact life you wanted. All you needed was Eddie. Eddie was your home, and Eddie was your all, and you loved LA.  

It was the perfect place to be for Eddie’s work. It was warm all the time, gave you permanent freckles that graced your nose. Your house was big, lovely, huge backyard with a big pool. You had ample room for people to come visit and stay for a few days. Weeks if they wanted to. Guest rooms with en suites and the one downstairs even with its own entrance, so when Wayne stayed over, he could go for early morning walks without fear of waking anyone up.  

The only thing about LA you didn’t like was that there was so much time.

And it was just you.

And Eddie.

And sure, the Corroded Coffin guys. And Eddie's manager was nice. Their producer too. But they all had work, and sometimes you tagged along and it was so exciting, always so fun. Red carpets and sound checks and green rooms and festivals – it was always new and your excitement for it fueled Eddie's excitement for it.

But then there were also days– weeks like these, where all Eddie did was write, and record, and rehearse.

You remembered being 18 and hanging out with Steve a lot, sometimes Robin too, when Eddie'd be busy writing, recording, and rehearsing with his band.

But Steve wasn't in LA.

Wait.

Scratch the time being the issue – the only thing about LA you didn't like was that Steve wasn't there.

Your tripod was your tripod no more.

Steve had come to stay for a week when you'd just moved, and your week had mostly been the two of you figuring out where to buy groceries before Eddie hired someone to get them for you. After that, you'd just lazed around the pool for the rest of the week until Steve had to fly back home.

A lot had changed in the 1,5 years that followed that week.

But you missed Steve.

Steve, who had met a girl he really liked, who Robin said was lovely, but also said that she probably wouldn’t really gel with you and Eddie. Something judgmental about her. Kind, though. And very pretty.

You were glad Steve had Robin nearby still, because you knew Robin, and you loved Steve. Steve deserved the best. Deserved someone who could love him like you loved Eddie.

Robin said she did, which was good. Reassuring.

And Steve loved her.

You’d only met her a couple of times before Steve had proposed to her. Engaged to be married, just a few months in. And barely a year later, you’d been invited to a home coming big barbecue pool party at Steve’s parents’ house in Hawkins. You'd barely been able to make it, but Steve had been very adamant about it.

"I never have parties anymore, you have to come,"

"There'll be a whole non-alcoholic section of drinks, don't you even worry about it,"

"I've already talked to Eddie's manager, he said he has the time,"

"Please,"

Like you really needed convincing. Of course you'd be there, wouldn't fucking miss it for the world. Neither would anyone else, because everyone was there. The whole gang and then some. Matt was there too, and seeing an ex was never fun, but it was actually sort of okay. You didn't love the fact that you were there with Eddie, because it felt like you were shoving it into his face a little bit, but Matt was still Matt, ever the Corroded Coffin fan, and walked up with a huge smile the second he'd spotted you.

You'd learned that late afternoon that Steve had been just as pushy with everyone else about coming to this party. He'd been calling around, double and triple checking to make sure everyone really was going to be able to make it.

That's when you found Eddie narrowing his eyes at you. Pondering. Something didn't add up. Or it did, but it felt like the math problem you'd been given wasn't the correct one. You knew exactly what Eddie was thinking, and about thirty minutes later, Eddie was proven right.

The party turned out to be Steve's surprise wedding.

Eddie and you had clutched your hands tightly together throughout the whole ceremony, because what the fuck was happening? You kept making eye-contact with Robin, and she kept shrugging as if to say that she knew just as little about all of this as you did.

"Steve's married," you'd said to Eddie afterwards, stood in the Harrington's kitchen, both sort of.... defeated. Unsure of what to make of it all.

Eddie leant against the counter, arms crossed and teeth biting into his lower lip, scraping off dry skin the plane's aircon had left him with.

"I don't know why I feel offended," you'd huffed a laugh at how ridiculous that sounded.

"Offended?" Eddie asked, eyebrows quirked, clearly confused.

"Yea, I don't know... I always thought that, if any of us were to get married one day, we'd all be... more involved? Like, you'd be Steve's best man, and I'd... you know, know the bride,"

Steve didn't owe you shit, you knew that. And you'd moved away. You supposed that's what happened in life – things changed. But this all seemed very drastic. Insanely sudden. Almost out of character.

"She seems like she's good for him," Eddie offered, and you immediately agreed. Not because you thought Eddie was right, you had no idea if he was, but because that's what you wanted to be true.

A silence fell where you both stared into space for a second to let the day sink in a little.

"Steve's married... this is so weird," you'd grimaced a little at it which made Eddie reach for your arms to pull you into a hug.

It was nice how you just got to hug and kiss in the very same kitchen where before, when Steve had you over for movie nights, you'd have to sneak around a little. Not be too obvious when Eddie pretended there wasn't enough room to move around whilst preparing popcorn and you basically ended up grinding up against each other until someone would call out what was taking you so long.

"Should we get married?" Eddie asked after a beat, obviously joking, and it got you into giggles immediately.

"I don't know of a better way to make my mother both the happiest and most disturbed woman alive," you said, cheek pressed up against his chest, knowing your mother had been waiting for most of your life for you to get married. She really wanted to have that huge wedding she could get all dressed up for, to be mother of the bride for a whole day. It was just that she wasn't the biggest fan of Eddie. If anything, within your little group, she'd always really pushed for you and Steve to get together.

"She'd be so conflicted," you imagined, which meant, maybe not right now, but you added, "Let's do it!" which got Eddie right in his funny bone and pushed a barking laugh from him.

"Maybe I should start playing golf,"

"Wear pastel polo shirts,"

"Take some etiquette classes, be more like Matt,"

"Stop, she'll marry you herself if she could– don't," you saw Eddie raise his eyebrows, pretending to consider it, so you'd shut him up before he could say anything and it reduced you both into giggles.

You'd decided to be the supportive friends you both imagined Steve needed. Decided you weren't going to mention how insane and sudden all of it was. Just be happy for him. Which you were.

You just... missed him, you guessed.

"I kind of need to get out of here," Eddie sighed, looking out into the backyard where a wedding was in full swing, people getting more tipsy with every sip of bubbly they had.

You knew what he meant. Feeling anxiety creep up in a place where there were drinks up for grabs was the exact wrong environment for him to be in.

"Yea, let's go," you pecked Eddie on the lips, went to find people to say goodbye to, and then it took two hours before you had finally walked through the gates with lots of promises to come visit LA in your pockets.

Yet, Steve hadn't come out to visit you since that first time when he'd stayed over for a week.

So, yeah. The only thing you didn’t like about LA that was it was far away from Steve.  

Steve who had gotten married about four months ago.

Steve whose phone calls had dropped in frequency over time, because d’uh, Steve was married now and you lived far away from each other, and you had your own lives. Were busy. Didn’t have time for dry catch-up conversations if the only updates were that Eddie had spent a lot of nights in the studio, and you kept busy managing his agenda.

Except you did have a lot of time.

It's just that people thought you didn't. All they'd see was Eddie's life. Eddie's life was on TV, on the radio, in the magazines and newspapers and people automatically assumed you'd be so busy.

You'd spent the day reorganizing your vanity as you'd heard the cleaners downstairs, and the chefs preparing food that they'd box up and leave in the fridge for you to have later. It was something you could've done within fifteen minutes, but you'd managed to stretch it to three hours. You weren't fucking busy at all. You could've easily spent hours on the phone to Hawkins.

But Steve was married, and you had cheated on Matt with Eddie which probably never sat right with Steve's new wife - not that you blamed her - and so you didn't call. Not often. Very rarely, actually.

When you woke up that next morning, Eddie still snoring into his pillow next to you, you'd gotten out and promised yourself that you'd call Steve that day.

When Eddie eventually made it down, sleep still in his eyes, hair everywhere, you apologised to the chef that was working on lunch for him being in just his boxers.

"Morning, babe," Eddie said before pressing a kiss into your hair as he ran a warm palm over your back.

"It's afternoon," you smiled over your mug of coffee.

"Well, was the morning good?"

"Morning was lovely, had a little swim," you watched Eddie as he moved to make his own coffee, and the chef behind him started making up two plates for you.

"I don't use that pool enough," Eddie said mostly to himself.

When he turned back to look at you, you inhaled sharply and gave him a polite smile. It made him frown a second. "What?"

"I'm going to call Steve today,"

You said it like it was something you could never do behind Eddie's back. Like it was a secret you'd feel bad about keeping to yourself.

"See if I can convince him to actually come over,"

Eddie nodded through his first sip of hot coffee, his face giving away that it was definitely too hot and burning his tongue.

"Tell him to bring Robin,"

You narrowed your eyes in thought.

"Do you think that'll help?"

Eddie shrugged. It might.

It shouldn't though. It was always you, Eddie and Steve. Just the three of you. And then, for a long time, it was you and Steve and only sometimes Robin.

But fine. You could always tell Steve to bring Robin if that would push him to actually take the time to come visit you.

When you called, you got Steve's wife.

"Hey, um, sorry, I was calling for Steve?"

"Yea, he's out. Can I take a message?"

"Oh, no, that's OK... I'll try again later, when do you think–"

"He's going to be out for a while."

"Oh..."

You didn't know how to react to that.

"Can I take a message?"

"No, I–"

And then she hung up. Just, hung up on you. No polite goodbye. No nothing. You looked at the receiver, then at Eddie.

"That was weird."

You didn't want to worry, so you chalked it up to bad timing. They'd probably just been in a fight. And, everyone fought, didn't they? Especially married couples who hadn't even known each other for a full year, you thought.

But of course you worried.

So you rang back a little later, but got told that if you didn't have a message for Steve, there was no use in calling because, like she'd said before, he'd be out for a while. There was something sad to her voice. Something that made you not push further, that made you not just ask, where is he, what happened?

When Eddie suggested for you to call Robin, you did, but got her answering machine. Three times.

You'd left a message that started out all up beat. Asked her how she was doing. Told her that you missed her, that she should come visit, the weather in LA was lovely and you had a guest room waiting for her to come and occupy for a little bit.

When you got all pleasantries out of the way, you mentioned Steve. The weird and very short phone calls you'd had with his wife.

And you wanted to tell her how it had never sat right with you, that Steve had met someone the second you'd moved away, and that he'd gotten engaged just a couple weeks after he'd been out to visit you in LA, and then a couple months later, he'd thrown a surprise wedding. You wanted to tell her that you thought this is how he'd gone about things, because maybe he'd been scared no one would've RSVP'd if you all had gotten wedding invitations in the mail. But you didn't say those things. Just said you missed them, her and Steve, and wanted to see them.

The more you thought about it, the more worried you got.

"What if something's wrong?" you'd asked Eddie when he was on his way out.

"Call again tomorrow, it'll be fine. People argue. Give it a little time,"

Logically you knew he was probably right, but something had taken residence within the pit of your stomach. Set up camp there, and you knew the only way to flush it out was by speaking to Steve directly. Or have Robin call you back to tell you Steve was doing just fine.

Fuck, if you could, you would've just made your way over to go and see for yourself.

But you were in LA. 

And Steve was in Hawkins still. 

Until he wasn’t.  

"Um... babe?" Eddie called from the front step, door handle still in his hand, sunglasses somehow balanced on his forehead, just above his brows. His other hand shook his car keys into his fist when he looked back at you.

It was the next day, and Eddie had a meeting with his label. Nothing crazy, just a word on the tapes the band had dropped off the day before.

You looked, and from where you were sat, you weren't able to see much of what Eddie was looking at. Until he stepped aside a little, and someone stepped onto the threshold.

Suitcases came into vision first, one in either hand, and then, Steve was suddenly there, on your doorstep in LA, dark sunglasses hiding his emotions.

And he hadn’t known what to say, just looked at you as you'd gasped upon seeing him.

You’d rushed over immediately, arms open and you were so ready to fall into him, but you hadn't anticipated that he'd fall into you as well. Suitcases dropped and you crashed into each other. It audibly pushed the air from your lungs, and it hurt, but that didn't matter.

You heard a soft, "Careful," coming from Eddie, who held out both hands in case you were to lose balance, which you didn't.

Steve hugged, and you hugged and Eddie stood and watched, waited his turn to hug Steve. When he realised his turn wasn't going to come, because you were pushing fists into Steve and his grip didn't seem to be faltering soon either, he turned your hug into a group hug and you stood like that, on the threshold of your open front door for entirely too long.

"I called you yesterday, twice." you murmured. "Robin too,"

"I know," was all Steve said, and you wondered how he knew. Were the phone calls why he'd traveled to LA? Or had he already been on his way? Had he already booked the flight before you'd reached out?

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really,"

You felt Eddie's arms tense up, squeeze a little tighter, and you knew it was because he was about to pull back.

"I'm sorry, I've got... work, but please, come in, make yourself at home, have some food, take a shower," Eddie listed things off on his fingers as you finally broke the embrace.

"Are you telling me I stink?" Steve asked, the humorous undertone easily detectable in his voice.

"Yes," Eddie deadpanned before wanting to carry on the list, but your laugh interrupted him.

"We were never this blunt with him, were we?" Steve looked at you, and you recalled all the times Eddie had come to visit Hawkins, looking worse for wear and smelling like the men's room of a dirty dive bar. Steve immediately received a punch to the shoulder from Eddie.

"I'll be back in a couple hours,"

And so you'd said goodbye to Eddie, had invited Steve inside and had shown him to his room - the same one he stayed in last time. Not the one with its own entrance, but the one upstairs, close to your own bedroom.

Steve put his suitcases down on the ottoman by the end of the bed and sighed deeply.

"Sorry I didn't call before flying in,"

"Don't be, I literally called you yesterday to tell you to fucking come over already,"

Steve smiled as he started moving clothes from one of the suitcases onto the bed, stacking things in neat piles. You leant into the doorway, arms folded over your stomach, and you felt all sorts of feelings that all lead straight to guilt.

There was obviously something going on. Steve had taken off his sunglasses and revealed puffy skin and red-rimmed eyes. The hostile tone his wife had spoken with to you hadn't left your mind yet, either.

But, Steve was here now. Right where you wanted him to be, and you were reunited as the three-piece that you had always been. Morning, noon and evening. Sun, wind and rain. Birth, life and death. Past, present and future. It had always been the three of you, and even though you'd grown up, and lives had changed, having Steve over gave you the opportunity to drown in nostalgia for a few days.

Feel... complete for a little while.

Wait, that reminded you.

"How long are you staying?"

Steve kept busy and didn't look at you as he shrugged up both his shoulders.

"I don't know,"

You didn't respond. Just watched him unpack. Gave him the space to think his thoughts before he vocalized them which you knew he sometimes needed.

Then he turned his head to look at you, eyebrows scrunched up a little, almost as if he was apologizing.

"How does a month sound?"

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories  @phyllosilicate-s  @thebellenouvelle  @luvrsbian @joesquinns  @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work  @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(two places left on my taglist: first come, first serve)

[gaal-dornick]

general the old guard fic rec

So here is the fic rec. As I said, this is one long list because I’m not strong enough to form coherent thoughts on each and every one of these, but they are all really damn good. In the list you’ll find mostly long fics, but there’s no E one-shots or AUs except canon divergence (edit: there is one AU now *winks*). There’s a bit of each of my favorite pairings, most are team centric instead of pairing specific. Enjoy ✌✌✌✌

take me to your river by @quiquimora - M, 15k, Booker/Nile 💥new💥

a continual farewell by @xpityx - G, 1.3k, Nile centric

For Roses, Too by @sindirimba - E, 112k, Booker/Nile

Guiding You Through by @mekana47 - T, 6k, Booker & Nicky

Uncharted Waters by @flirty-froggy - T, 4k, team centric  

Freedom Love Joy Peace by BecauseWhateverAtAll - T, 32k, Nile centric (read this before you talk to me again tyvm)

Meant to Find Each Other by soothe_the_beast - T, 62k, team centric  

Dying of the Light by @frogsarebxtches - M, 13k, Booker & Nicky  

Polaris by @hyper-fixate - G, 700, Joe centric  

hallelujah for the lover, the leaver, & the lonely alike by @campgender - T, 1k, Nicky centric 

Vilified, Crucified, in the Human Frame by Winterotter - M, 28k, team centric  

The Steps by @flawlessassholes - M, 66k, Booker/Nile 

Again, Anew Again by BecauseWhateverAtAll - T, 28k, team centric

Part of the Union by alby_mangrove, GlassRose - E, 46k, Booker/Nile

The God Killer by @static-abyss - M, 57k, team centric

when I was worshipped as a god by @lightdescending - M, 24k, Andy centric

The Lives of the Poets by superblackmarket - M, 5k, Joe/Nicky

Finding Home by @static-abyss - T, 10k, Nile centric

Softly, My Love, But Not So Soft by Emotionally Compromised Robots (CDRomelle) - M, 3k, Andy/Quynh

everywhere on earth you go (you're gonna have me) by nondz (pinkjook) - E, 21k, Booker/Nile

Pas Un Ange by inlovewithnight - T, 16k, Joe/Nicky

By a Time to Rise and a Time to Fall + When the Scorched of the Earth Come Back By Sea by BecauseWhateverAtAll - M, 16k / T, 41k, team centric

Upon Love's Road by @toli-a - T, 36k, team centric

You Are Why (we can't have nice things) by @quiquimora - T, 9k, team centric

lessons exquisitely crafted by @kaydeefalls - M, 42k, Joe/Nicky

I've been here before by @rupzydaisy - M, 38k, Booker centric

a slow landslide by @morallygreywaren - M, 14k, team centric

Travellers from an Antique Land by @kaydeefalls - M, 45k, team centric

If everything I do has got a hole in it (then everything you do has got a hold on me) by AnnieTheMouse - T, 10k, Nile centric

As the World Falls Down by superblackmarket - M, 5k, Booker & Joe/Nicky

epiphany by @flightsofwonder - T, 1k, team centric

Lights Out by @avelera - E, wip, Joe/Nicky & team

Old Olives by @gravelghosts - M, 21k, Joe/Nicky

Hold Tight by mekana47 - M, 3k, Booker & Nicky

[sombreboy]

Descend | demon!knj

⇣18+ nsfw ⇣pairing: demon knj x female Y/N ⇣genre: pwp smut, supernatural ⇣word count: 2.6k ⇣warnings: smut, profanity, dubcon esque themes, degrading dirty talk, mouthfucking, knj fucks y/n against a bookshelf lmao, demon creampie, he’s got a forked tongue idk if that’s a warning but at this point I’m too afraid to ask. 

A/N: Request by anon who wanted demon knj smut. I hope you love it! Please praise me I spent all night on this xoxo

‘’I’d say you are wasting my time, but that was before I saw you..’’ he tugged her face closer to his crotch, the bulge underneath the fabrics visibly twitching from having her attention. ‘’You will make it worth my while.’’

‘’What the fuck…’’

Out of all things she could say, that was the one and only thing that she could muster. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, ogling up at the man standing in front of her. 

Y/N was on her knees. A large, worn out book placed in front of her with several lit candles surrounding it. She didn’t think much, having no intentions in mind when she had found the crappy old book in the shelves of the grand library other than to see if it worked.. Of course it wouldn’t work. Curiosity always got her, for better or for worse.

She wasn’t sure which side of the spectrum this would become.

‘’What the fuck, it worked…’’ She repeated, this time a little louder. It wasn’t until the tall man crouched in front of her that she could get a proper closeup of his flawless visuals. 

Handsome, plush lips. His eyes were intense, the dark irises swirling like red wine, the shape of them comparable to that of a dragon.

She wasn’t sure whether he was actually a demon, how could he be? He’s beautiful.

An angel would suit him better.. Well, disregarding the fact that his eyes are glowing red.

‘’Such a filthy mouth.’’ The man tsk’d as his hand reached out to cup her jaw in his large hand, moving her face from side to side. He inched in closer, as if inspecting her features.

‘’Too pretty to use such language.’’

He didn’t seem to even question why she’d summoned him in the first place, as if it was already a given on his end. And it was, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and the shit eating smirk on his face was the proof of it.

Y/N shoved his hand away, to which his response was to immediately stand up on his feet in front of her, kicking the book away. He growled lowly, the candles suddenly bursting into larger flames, as if his annoyance fueled the fire. He stepped closer, now towering over her smaller frame on her knees. Bending forward slightly, he tugged the hair at the back of her head, pulling back to force her to look up at his wicked smile.

‘’You’re a daring girl,’’ he snickered menacingly, ‘’Do you even know who I am?’’

‘’No.’’ Y/N swallowed tightly, wincing when the grip in her hair tightened. Her eyes quickly moved down when she noticed that his hand was slowly undoing his pants, each tooth of his zipper coming undone as his eyes remained hyper fixated on her face.

‘’I’m Kim Namjoon. The demon overlord.’’ His voice dropped, the baritone rumbling in his chest.

‘’You have summoned me, for what reason?’’

He didn’t care for the answer.

‘’I don’t.. know…I didn’t think it would work.’’ Y/N muttered meekly, unable to rip her eyes off of his long fingers taking way too long to pull that damn zipper down.

Why was it so mesmerizing?

‘’Ah, too bad…’’ Namjoon chuckled, small dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled.

‘’I’d say you are wasting my time, but that was before I saw you..’’ he tugged her face closer to his crotch, the bulge underneath the fabrics visibly twitching from having her attention.

‘’You will make it worth my while.’’

‘’What are yo-mmph!�� She was unable to finish her sentence when the grasp around her jaw tightened, forcing her mouth open only to shove his thumb inside, smoothing the pad of it against the surface of her tongue.

‘’Silence.’’ Namjoon’s command echoed in the grand room. The very second those words left his mouth, it was as if her throat tightened, unable to squeak out anything but a whimper.

Y/N’s eyebrows were drawn together in annoyance, the bratty attitude not faltering even whilst knowing he’s supposedly a demon lord. She huffed through her nose, instinctively biting down on his thumb as hard as she could. She winced, his skin was soft-- but impenetrable. He definitely wasn’t human, or he would’ve been bleeding.

And the sound erupting from his throat was not that of pain, but a dark snicker.

“Cute.’’ he roughly let go of her jaw to shove two fingers inside of her mouth, deep enough to prod the back of her throat, causing it to constrict around his digits. Tears formed in her eyes, the restricted airflow making her squirm and fall backwards on her behind to get away. She coughs, covering her mouth as she stared up at the smirking demon.

‘’Hm?’’ Namjoon cooed mockingly, however not moving from his spot as he brought his wet fingers to his mouth, licking her spit off of them while maintaining his piercing gaze on her.

‘’Playful, aren’t you?’’ he played with the waistband of his pants, tugging at them as he cocked an eyebrow at her, slowly sauntering forward to her sitting form. Once again, he stood above her, completely disregarding the fact that she initially had attempted to back off. However, he grew impatient. And she was wasting his time.

‘’Get back on your knees, angel.’’ Namjoon put emphasis on the pet name, as if it had a degrading nature coming from him. Y/N’s body moved like it had a mind of its own, quickly getting back into her original position on her knees, hands neatly placed in her lap.

Her body was no longer controlled by her, every command rolling off his tongue springing her body into action as if he was pulling her strings like a puppeteer.

Namjoon’s tongue poked out to wet his lips at the sight below him, finally peeling the caging fabrics down his thighs. It was a slow, tortuous few seconds that felt like an eternity for the two of them.

Y/N’s doe eyes widened, her face flushed red when she saw his length as it sprung free, tip already glazed with precum. He craned his neck to stare down at her, the fire in his irises swirling with desire.

‘’Show me your tongue.’’

Y/N obliged, doe eyes mirroring the fiery gaze he brought upon her as she opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out. Saliva dripped down the tip of her fleshy muscle, Namjoon’s eyes quivered at the sight.

‘’My fallen angel.’’ He smiles, hand now stroking himself with intent. His free grasp reaches for her hair once again, bringing her mouth closer, rubbing the swollen head of his cock against her warm tongue. He bit back a low groan, immediately driving his hips forward to sink his length down her throat. He relished in the way her insides constricted around him as a reflex, ignoring any sign of her body rejecting his girth. 

‘’So pretty with your mouth stuffed. Don’t you dare try to bite, though….’’ He smirked. ‘’Not that it’d do anything, except bring punishment upon yourself.’’

He started to thrust into her mouth, the slick sounds of his cock gliding against her tongue was heavenly, ‘’But perhaps that is what you desire, angel.’’

Y/N’s only response was the way she swallowed his cock, drool dribbling down her chin to pool at the floor below. The skin of his cock was like velvet, smoothly brushing against her tongue with every stroke that gradually grew rougher, deeper, and faster.

‘’Fuck yeah, you’re such a well behaved, pretty little angel.’’ Namjoon praised, and it made her feel...  excited. Never did he think his words would make her want to please, but with every second spent with him; his aura, his voice, his taste-- it drew her in like a sailor towards a siren’s song. He was addictive.

Namjoon continued to fuck her throat as he pleased, low grunts and curses slipping through his teeth, eyes focused on the way his cock disappeared into her mouth with every forward thrust. It was mesmerizing to him, watching her take it so well, muscles relaxed. He could feel her desires grow, smell.. Fuck, even taste her arousal on his tongue. It had him greedy for more.

‘’Enough.’’ He growled as he pulled her back by her hair, drawing a whine from her sweet, swollen lips. He felt something stir in his body, and whether it was his cock, or his chest-- he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t important at the moment. All he knew was that he craved her fleshy insides wrapped around his cock. Y/N wiped her chin with the back of her hand, yelping when Namjoon pulled her up by her upper arm like she weighed nothing, dragging her along with him only to push her back up towards the bookshelf. She gasped, the hard surface pressing against her back wasn’t comfortable. However, she quickly forgot about the discomfort the moment the demon’s lips suddenly crashed against hers in a hungry, devouring kiss. His tongue was longer than she expected, slipping through her lips to find her own, a low guttural moan vibrating in their mouths as he tasted her. She was so, so sweet, and he found himself just as addicted to her, as she was to him.

‘’You’re making it very well worth my time, angel.’’ Namjoon’s praises became more frequent the more he got to feel, taste, and smell her. His hands roamed down the curve of her ass before roughly ripping the fabrics off her body. He hated them, more than anything at this moment; daring to cover the thing he’d decided by now, to claim as his own.

Y/N belonged to him.

‘’Speak.’’ He suddenly said, his rumbling voice loud and powerful yet again when it was an order. Y/N felt the sudden wall that had previously blocked her ability to talk to crumble down.

‘’I-I…’’ She wasn’t sure what to say, only a moan replacing her attempt to speak when Namjoon lifted her up to firmly push her against the shelf, locking her legs around his waist. His body was strong, oozing intimidation and dominance.

‘’I want to fuck you.’’ Namjoon bluntly stated, tilting his head to the side as those endearing dimples reappeared. He inched closer, his fiery breath hot, the scent laced with something comparable to burnt wood. ‘’Tell me, do you want my fat cock? I will give it all to you, pump you full of my cum.’’

He huffed against her lips as he rubbed the bulbous, slick head of his cock back and forth between her soppy folds, teasing her hole by prodding it lightly, gathering the wetness before resuming to rub her clit with his tip. ‘’I said, speak!’’

‘’Please, I want---fuck..’’ Y/N buried her face in the crook of his neck, body already trembling. His cock was scorching hot against her cunt, teasing her swollen clit until she felt her arousal trickle and drip to the floor. ‘’Please fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…’’ She repeated as if in trance, completely enchanted by the demon’s spell.

Funny thing is, he wasn’t using any spell on her all along. She wanted this just as bad as he did.

‘’Angel…’’ Namjoon groaned as he didn’t waste time in pushing himself into her cunt, buried as deep as physically possible. It was the sweetest, most delicious sensation he’s ever experienced.

‘’Holy, fuck, such a sweet little hole. Hear that?’’ He chuckles eerily as he immediately pulls back, only to roughly thrust back inside, the wet sounds of her juices like music to his ears.

‘’Hear how needy your body is for me?’’ He asks again, hissing out more curses every time he thrusts back into her, drawing louder and louder moans and cries.

‘’Yes, oh my god..’’ Y/N whines, wrapping her arms around his neck, digging her nose into his skin. Her sweet canary voice was something he wishes he could hear for all of eternity, and by now he already knew...  He was going to make her his own little plaything.

‘’God?’’ Namjoon laughs as he speeds up, pounding her squelching cunt harder and harder at the mention of ‘god’. It was hilarious, how she could mention such a name at a time like this. ‘’No, my angel. The only name you should utter is Namjoon.’’ He snarled, digging his nails into the flesh of her hips, every thrust earning a sweet cry from her mouth. Skin to skin, harshly smacking together, the way her body bounced sinfully against his own. It was nothing but extraordinary.

‘’N-namjoon! Namjoon, oh fuck, please,’’ Her words were choked by her moans, shaky from the powerful momentum of his rocking hips. She felt the heat build in her lower stomach, his scorching cock rubbing and prodding her insides, not leaving a single inch of her untouched. ‘’Gonna cum!’’

‘’A filthy, fallen angel,’’ Namjoon moaned, pistoning his hips into her, the bookshelf rocking harshly every single time he crashed her body against it, books falling off to pile at the floor.

‘’You’re gonna cum for a demon, you’re gonna cum because of the cock of a creature of hell. You’re such a whore, my whore-- for eternity. That’s what you want to be, isn’t it?’’ He felt his own climax building gradually, kissing and biting at her collarbone.

‘’Beg to be my whore in hell, and I will bring you with me.’’

Y/N didn’t think it through. She didn’t have to. At this point, she had already given her entire being over to him, he wanted nothing else than to remain by his side for eternity-- even if it meant hell.

‘’I want to be yours, forever.. Use me everyday, me only, nobody else!’’ Y/N yells into his neck, placing kisses and possessive bites on his hot skin, ‘’Fill me up, claim me as your whore. Take me with you, Namjoon.’’

‘’Fuck, ohh fuck..!’’ Namjoon thrived in hearing her say exactly what he wished for, the verbal confirmation enough for him to drive his hips into her at an animalistic speed, forcing her own orgasm to erupt around his length. A silent cry that didn’t leave her throat, choked on a sob as she bit down on his shoulder as hard as she could muster, cunt spasming around his slick cock.

‘’My perfect little angel, my oh--’’ Namjoon’s words choked intro a strained moan, guttural and inhuman as his hips stuttered. He wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her body tightly against his own while his cock throbbed desperately inside, ropes of cum gushing out to fill her up to the brim until some of it was forced to drip out and pool at the floor beneath.

His cum was hot-- too hot, it burned like the fires of hell itself inside of her womb. He’d claimed her as his personal cocksleeve, and her body would no longer know any other man than Namjoon, the demon lord.

Namjoon remained still as he allowed his cock to rest inside of her for a long moment, the scorching sensation no longer painful-- but welcomed. He dropped down to his knees with a thud, Y/N still in his lap as he pulled back to look at her fucked out, blissed expression. She had nothing but awe in her eyes, and saw nobody but the demon in front of her.

‘’Y/N.’’ He said softly, brushing her  hair away from her face. ‘’Come with me.’’

‘’Yes.’’ Y/N didn’t hesitate in her reply, nodding once. Her body trembled in his embrace, to which he simply smiled. Those damned, beautiful dimples once again pressing on his cheeks.

‘’I’m yours.’’

Namjoon’s smile grew wider, this time genuine. He almost didn’t look like he was a demon, but instead.. An angel.

But the swirling fire of red in his eyes reminded you that he was anything but holy.

He cupped your face in his heated hands, drawing you in for a deep kiss, his long forked tongue brushing and tasting every corner of your mouth.

A kiss to seal the deal.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not edit, repost or translate.