#no excuse just brain soup

[geometricalien]

him, already with a girlfriend that he wants to marry: I wanted to kiss you when I saw you. I wanted to kiss you on the bridge as well.

me, externally: i- eh- what-

me, internally: soooo many red flags how can he just admit this??

[rayofspades]

what the actual fuck do you mean "Just Look My Way" was a fan song?????????????????????????????

[cleocatrablossy]

Time to drag out my vague idea for a Planet Zoo based Hermitcraft AU

[tyunniez]

converse high... bttm male reader

!!.. this has to be my worst work yet,, uhh rough sex, creampie, kinda vanilla ngl, not proofread idfk also bts ref borahae 💜

you jumped around in excitement to see one of your favorite group is finally going on tour! and they're coming to your city!

you immediately rushed to check the tickets, choosing the vip standing seat. " wait, how much money do I have left? " you stopped yourself before making a bad decision.

you looked at your bank account and almost passed out. you're broke as hell.

" why the hell am I so broke? " you questioned yourself, trying to find a genuine reason.

you scanned throughout your room till your eyes landed on your closet. " ah. that's why. "

multiple articles of clothing brimmed your closet causing it to overfill, making you slightly grimace at how your clothing rail was holding on for its dear life.

you recently went on another shopping haul after seeing your favorite idol adorning a new collection that was released by your favorite fashion brand.

you just had to get it.

yeah, maybe you had a bit of a spending problem..

your parents have spoiled you since birth because you're their one and only child. no, you weren't wealthy. you had to take on jobs multiple times, but hey hard work pays off!

you were currently on your break, and you intended to spend it going shopping till you went broke but unfortunately, due to you blowing your money to buy another vip standing ticket, that money mysteriously vanished.

" hmm.. is there any job I can do right now? " you rolled around in bed while scrolling through your phone, trying to find any quick gag you could do to earn some cash.

you ended up throwing your phone to the wall, groaning aloud when you could find none.

" i'm so lazy! not to mention my piles of assignments... " you sighed to yourself, opting to go downstairs instead to eat your sorrows away.

you were greeted by both of your parents downstairs, your mom already getting started on making lunch. " oh dear, what's wrong? you look stressed. "

you go to stand beside her, washing your hands in the process to help her cook. " I'm looking for a job to buy a ticket for a concert. my fav group is coming here you know! " you complained to your mom.

you grab the onion and began slicing it, shedding a few tears meanwhile. your mom thinks to herself, turning to you with an idea.

" you know our neighbor is actually looking for someone to babysit her kid. the pay is quite good since her kid is quite.. naughty. " you stared at the soup you were stirring and hummed.

" i can send you the details if you're interested, dear. " you nodded and decided to see how much would the pay be, who knows it might be enough.

a bonus is the kid has a total hottie as her brother!

you took one look at the pay and were sold immediately. you did the math and doing this for the amount of time needed will be more than enough.

i mean, babysitting can't be that hard, right?

⊹₊⋆

you sighed nervously as you finally approached the front door, your tote bag on your shoulder with everything you needed inside. you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for the mom to greet you.

instead, you were greeted by someone else. " you the new babysitter? "

you stuttered, brain short-circuiting. instead of answering, you stared at the man in front of you.

the red-haired cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to answer with a raised brow. " hello? you there? " he asked in an annoyed tone.

" oh, oh yeah sorry. y-yeah, i'm the new babysitter. " you gripped the strap of your tote bag, trying your best to maintain eye contact with the man in front of you.

he hummed and opened the door wider for you to come in. you excused yourself and stepped into the house.

you walked up to ms. moore to greet her but before you could say anything she rushed towards you, her bag already in her hand.

" oh yn dear! i was just about to leave! thank god you're here. so there's money on the counter in case maya wants anything to eat. you can ask my son for any help. i'll be back before one so i hope you can withstand.. "

before you could ask any questions, she already rushed her way out towards the door. " jason, you better help the babysitter this time! thank you again and i'll see you when i get back, dear! "

with a slam of the door, she was gone.

you stood there, trying to process the information she just dumped on you. in your shocked state, jason gave you a pat on the shoulder. " she always does that. good luck dealing with that devil. ", was all he said before leaving you alone.

" maya, go easy on him! " he shouted upstairs.

you turned to the kid staring at you from the couch, a little concerned about what he just said. you've dealt with kids before, this will be easy.

⊹₊⋆

god, you regretted even thinking that.

there was a reason why babysitters kept dropping out like flies. this kid might as well come straight from hell!

you let out a long sigh as you crashed onto the sofa. you finally managed to put maya to sleep. though you couldn't really relax, still scared she might pull something with you thinking she was asleep.

" don't worry she's asleep. " you looked to the side to see jason slipping next to you on the couch, remote in his hand as he scrolled through various movies.

you let out another sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes. you crossed your legs over one another, inspecting your slightly dirty converse high.

you peered over next to you, silently admiring jason.

you observed how his grown-out wolf cut, his red-haired that was now washed out is slightly messy, making it look like he just rolled out of bed.

your eyes were especially glued to his piercings. from his industrial to his snake bite, god he has so much.

you were more so drawn to his lips, that you could see his tongue-piercing. he purposely toyed with it, flicking his tongue out to tease you.

he licked his lips ever so slowly, his pink tongue grazing over his lower lip, not forgetting to graze over his snake bite. you gulped and looked away to try to get your mind on something else.

you didn't want to pop a boner in someone else's house!

" had enough already? " his sultry voice suddenly asked. you whipped your neck to look at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight, did he catch me staring..?

you cleared your throat and grabbed a nearby pillow to try to cover your growing hard-on.

" w-what're you talking about? " you glued your eyes towards the tv, trying to seem as unbothered as you can, thou the stuttering clearly gave it away..

jason rolled his eyes and discarded the pillow you were clinging onto, " oh come on, don't play dumb now. "

he pinned you down on the couch, caging you in leaving you no choice but to look at him.

" don't tell me you didn't notice at all.. "

you tried your best to look at him in the eyes, trying to figure out what he was talking about. well, he was really touchy.. his hands always found their way to touch you no matter.

he always knows just where and when to linger his touches to make you slightly flustered, the way he held your waist earlier still not leaving your eyes.

he also never took his eyes off of you ever since you stepped into his house. his eyes always trailing over to wherever you are, observing whatever the hell you are doing.

your cheeks got redder as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide from his gaze. " see i know you were a smart boy, now how far are you willing to go, bunny? "

you clasped your hand over your mouth, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. this is all too lewd!

you peeked down to look at him and the view below you was breathtaking.

jason's messy hair was now slicked back with his sweat, his big hands holding your legs open as his tongue worked its way on your dick. you could feel his tongue piercing along it, the added sensation making your thigh quiver.

you slowly released your hold on your own mouth, breath shaky. " jason, i-i'm close.. " your meal voice was shaky from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

he hummed and just continued to suck you, his hand now fondling your balls, massaging them as if to coax you to release.

you gripped the bedsheet below you, the warmth of his mouth mixed with the occasional cold feeling of his piercing was driving you over the edge. with a loud moan, you finally released in his mouth, eyes closing in bliss.

jason swallowed it all, making sure not to leave any drop behind. you didn't know whether to feel grossed out by it or not.

" ready to move on now bunny? " jason asked you while grabbing a bottle of lube, squirting a glob of it on his fingers. you silently nodded and watched as he squirted another glob on your hole.

" cold.. " you whined at him, feeling the chilliness of the lube. " don't worry, i'll warm you right up bunny. " he smiled.

he first inserted one finger into you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling. he began slowly moving it, occasionally grazing over that spot that made you see stars.

he then inserted another and another, steadily picking up his pace and getting more rougher as time went on. your eyes shoot back open as you kept your lips as tight as you could.

you were close and jason seemed to know this too.

before you could reach your climax, he swiftly pulled his fingers out. you looked up at him in confusion, dumbfounded as to why he stopped. " w-why'd you stopped? "

he took off his boxer, tossing it somewhere else. " don't tell me you were gonna cum just from that. the real fun begins now, bunny "

you watched as jason stroked his own dick, pouring lube on it. he was big. maybe too big for you. " are you sure it'll fit.. " you asked him while your eyes still trained on it.

" don't worry.. " he aligned himself with your hole, " i'll make it fit. "

with that, he shoved himself into you, the student action made you let out a loud moan. your eyes instantly teared up from the sudden stretch. you bit your lips to make sure no other noise escaped from you.

he was so big and you felt so.. full. his tip perfectly kissed your prostate, almost as if you were molded just for him.

" look at you taking it so well.. i knew i should've stuffed you full the moment i saw you. "

you stifled another incoming moan. your hands both covered your face, trying to hide your flushed face. two hands suddenly held onto your wrist, effectively prying your hands off of your face.

" don't hide this gorgeous face from me now. "

his own fingers intertwined with your own as he pounded into you roughly, going fast and aggressive from the start. a string of moans left your lips, your voice shaky due to how fast he was.

soon, one of his hands sneaked its way onto your thigh, hoisting it up. you almost screamed from how much deeper he was inside you. you didn't think it was even possible.

" jasonn, i'm near.. " you whined. your own dick bounced and twitched begging for release. " i'm close too, bunny.. cum with me, yeah? "

you nodded while jason held onto your ankles, his fingers digging into the fabric of your converse high. he somehow began speeding up, chasing his own climax.

you closed your mouth with your own hand, knowing damn well your moans were echoing throughout the house already.

with no warning whatsoever, you felt the warm liquid soon filling your inside, dropplings of it escaping from your hole. the feeling of being filled with jason's thick cock mixed with his own cum running down your ass caused you to also release.

you shut your eyes as your release painted your stomach white, some of it landing on jason's.

after a few moments of silence, he then let go of your ankles, slowly pulling out. you winced at the feeling of emptiness. you rolled to the side, jason also crawling next to you.

you soon almost lull yourself to sleep before remembering that tomorrow you have to babysit maya. oh god maya. you prayed she was sleeping like a baby and didn't hear anything.

" shit.. i honestly can't feel my legs and i still have to babysit maya tomorrow... " you groaned out loud next to him, trying to brainstorm an idea on how to babysit that devil in your current state.

jason only laughed next to you. talking about how he'll figure out a way to deal with her tomorrow. you hope he will since you can't miss the pay...

[bunnys-kisses]

Ooooo can I grab a spice pie a Eton mess with a coffee and hard lemonade please and thank you bunny 😊

With max verstappen

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu (yay), there's still tons of things to order and i'd love for you have a little slice from the bakery! thank you for any prompts sent and especially to @e-verstappen for this lovely prompt! i don't usually get a lot of spice pie & eton mess orders so this was fun!! i hope you enjoy!! <3

spice pie ("i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut.") + eton mess ("be careful. your breath smells like cum.") + coffee (rivals au) + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, possessive behavior, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!max, ferrari driver!reader, jos jumpscare, oral sex (reader receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

this had a happen in groups of three within a similar time frame. and with max, these three things sent the possessive driver off the edge. you had been deluding yourself into believing that these encounters with him were simple little flings.

you didn't realize that max verstappen had been going around the paddock telling people that you were together and to get their noses out of you. regardless, things happened in threes

first, it was practice. for the singapore grand prix, you shoved max out of first position and he scrambled only being able to cling onto fifth. it didn't help that jos had come by to see how the weekend was going to shape up. secondly, the same jos verstappen congratulated you on the excellent job maintaining a strong presence on the track. what made max's mouth twitch as he watched was that his father was being genuine to you. and thirdly, while you and max were in his hotel the night before the race, both nursing a beer. he caught a glimpse of you on raya.

and that just set the driver off. beer can tumbled on the floor, and his hands around your wrist. your phone threatening to meet the beer can. your eyes gazed into his with concern marking your features.

"what the fuc-"

"i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." his words were biting.

"excuse me!"

"raya? really? you sit there all pretty on the track. getting all the praise, and the first place in the qualifiers. then you come with me and now you're trying to find other men to fuck." his voice was venomous.

you got out of his grasp and gave him a shove off of you on the couch, "this is stress relief, asshole." then shifted in your seat as you put your phone to the side. you hated that when he got like that, it turned you on, "and i barely got any praise from anyone besides me team. it was almost too close to call."

his hand was on your thigh and his lips at your neck. he said, "stress relief?" his breathing was hot against your neck, "god, you're stupid." his large hands were on your hips as he went after your neck once more.

this time were was little resistance from you. you couldn't help it, after all this time with him. he still made your brain turn into soup.

"no, no. this is far from casual. the trips, the gifts, our time together. you knew deep down that you're only on raya to kill time. because you don't want to admit that you already found your husband."

you took him by the back of the neck and looked into his gaze. you swallowed, "you're a possessive fuck, max."

he raised his eyebrows at you, "i have to. because these men don't know when a woman is taken." before he crashed his lips against yours. you wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders.

you hated it. he was your rival, you stood on opposing ends. you fought tooth and nail on the track, your entire career had been snapping your fangs at one another. so to be stripped for vulnerable felt so different. it was like max could see through it all. whatever face you've given to the press.

you hated more that it was the same face you put on raya. the confident woman of formula one. but deep down, you yearned to be loved by someone. someone who was as unbalanced as you. thus you collided with max as he got between your legs and started to get you out of the sweatpants (that he owned) you were wearing. your panties went with it.

"i need to remind you that you are mine, got it? i need that app deleted when i'm done with you. better yet, delete the entire account and apologize to the company for wasting their time with you on it... because you weren't finding prince charming on it." then went between your legs and licked across your cunt which made you tense up.

his mouth on you was hot and it made you heated all over. damn max verstappen damn him, and when his tongue came out you were gripping onto his short almost-blond hair. you felt the skip in your chest as he rubbed his nose up against your clit.

if you could, you'd be hitting him in the head in frustration. he drover you insane as much as you fell in love with him. a push and pull of desires as he orally pleasured you. your toes curled in the socks you wore (which was also stolen from him).

his tongue continued to lap against your soaked hole and his nose nudged up against your achy clit. it was a stimulated hell in the best was possible. it made you feel so hot that you eventually took your t-shirt off and laid there in just socks and your bra.

while it felt amazing, he didn't quite get you to climax, when he eventually came up for air. he looked up at you with those blue eyes of his. there was a heated lust in them as he got up from his spot on the couch and was on you once more. he was heavily breathing, as were you.

"be careful. your breath smells like cum." you said softly as you covered his mouth with your hand for a moment before he went in for a searing kiss. first on your palm before he pulled it away and went for your lips.

you whined against the kiss and gripped onto the back of his shirt. your nails dug into the soft fabric, threatening to rip it off his shoulders. his clothed, hard cock rubbed against your achy cunt.

"i want you." you sighed, "i hate that you're in my head."

he chuckled, "i wouldn't want to be anywhere else." he got his cock out of his pants and rubbed it against you for a few moments before he sank inside of you. his hands braced on the back of the couch as he got inside of you as far as he could go. which was far enough because you could already feel him bruising your poor cunt.

you shuddered, your nipples grew hard as you held onto his strong shoulders. he always made you feel so good, especially when those soft lips of his were pressed against yours. it was because of you that he learned what lip balm was and didn't gross any of his dates out. now it benefited you as he rocked his cock up into you.

fucking on the couch like two desperate animals. but desperation didn't lead to long lasting sessions of intimacy. you hated that max verstappen lived in your head rent free, devouring any attempts to meet anyone else. why meet anyone else when you have max? while you bloomed under his attention, you hated that you had little choice in the matter. he had sunk his claws into you long ago. and now you were lazily making out with him.

you came quickly, like a strike of lightning through your body. you moaned into the kiss and arched your back off the couch as he continued to fuck you with a high intensity. your toes curled and your nails dug into his shoulders more.

he panted heavily, "that's good. a good little girl. you know exactly how to get me going." he groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts and it made you feel hot all over as his cock pressed into the deepest parts of you. your brain felt over stimulated and the kisses got harder.

you needed him, it wasn't a want any long. he was what was pulling at your chest as he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with a heated groan against your lips. which made you pant heavily.

you relaxed against the covers and panted heavily. you felt a drum of heat in your head as you looked at him. he was loomed over you for a moment as he tried to compose himself.

you let out a little whimper and it made max's cock jump while still in you.

"now do you get it? you're mine." he said as he pulled out and then grabbed your face for a kiss. you moaned a little into the kiss and when he pulled away, "right?"

you looked at him a little blissed out, your tongue couldn't find the words. but that didn't mind max too much, he could see it in your eyes. his little rival wanted him. he gave you another kiss before he got a hold of you. he could get a second round out of you in the bedroom before he fucked all sense out of you. <3

[cherrycolored-punk]

still frames - bestfriend! e.m. x fem! reader

author’s note: reminiscing about the friend I had in high school, the one who I’d create playlists with and who’d call to play his guitar for me every night. and you can’t tell me that Eddie isn’t the same type of dude. the sweet bits are based on the reminiscing. the rest is pure fiction with our favorite goof. anyways, enjoy!🧡

w/c: 5k

warnings: angst, pining, smut (oral - reader receiving, protected p in v), spanking, teasing, uhhhh let me know if I forgot anything

‼️ THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI ‼️

Raindrops race down your living room window in lines, and you watch them from your spot on the floor. It’s fall, and the lush greens of summer have begun to change color; their leaves now varying hues of orange and yellow. They create a coziness in your apartment, a warmth that feels like it envelops you and is amplified by the scent of your favorite candle; crisp apple, nectar, and warm clove spice fill your lungs with each breath you take.

Eddie lays beside you on his stomach, focusing on his phone and the playlist you created for him.

The playlists were a tradition since middle-school, a way to introduce each other to a new sound or a band the other might not have heard of. For some time, though, you’d been using it to send cryptic messages, and he hadn’t caught on. 

Your crush on Eddie came suddenly but was felt all at once. 

It was a spring morning nearly two years ago, and you’d laid dying in bed, except not really. You just had the flu, but you felt close to death and had texted him as much.

Eddie: what do you need?

You: hit me with your van, stab me in the face…please end my suffering.

He, of course, didn’t grant your wish, but he’d shown up at your apartment after work with a grocery bag full of supplies. Eddie was still wearing his navy coveralls covered in oil and smelled like grease. From what you could smell, anyway. You could barely breathe through your nose.

“I got you theraflu tea, and I don’t want to hear you complain about the taste. You just need to drink it,” he scolded before you could even complain. 

Your jaw snapped shut.

“Also got your favorite soup, four cans,” he held his fingers up, “orange juice, Vicks, popsicles in case your throat hurts, those saltines you like, and,” he turned, “I brought Scream for us to watch since I know it’s your favorite.”

It hit you like a ton of bricks, made your heart stutter, and nearly stop. 

It was the way he was smiling, the familiar excited gleam in his eye as he looked at you. It was the fact that he’d shown up after a twelve-hour shift with all your favorite sick foods in tow. 

Your eyes traced over his face like you were seeing him for the first time. The sharp edge of his jaw, the plump of his lips, the freckles that dotted the slope of his nose, and when did Eddie become so beautiful?

You’d tried blaming it on the fact that less oxygen was getting to your brain and a virus was wrecking your immune system, but now you didn’t have the same excuse. Now you couldn’t look at Eddie without noticing the pinks of his cheeks or the different smiles he had. Couldn’t be around him without yearning to hug him or hold him in a way that didn’t scream just friends.

The past year and a half had been overwhelming, the yearning making you feel hollow. Like if you didn’t say something, it would continue to eat you alive, but telling him ran the risk of ruining the friendship and that was a fate worse than being alone.

You glance over to the playlist he’s listening to, at the song playing, and clench your eyes shut.

Despite the music in your ears, you can hear the song reverberating off the walls of your skull. The one you heard that made you think of him. It plays in your head, having memorized every lyric and the way the singer’s voice influxes with certain words.

Bet you never knew it

Think you’d suit me just fine

And you know he’ll never get it, never know you’re hopelessly in love with him.

You close your eyes and focus on the song, one he chose specifically for you. 

Good Riddance plays soft, a break from the heavy metal he always added but not a song you hadn’t heard before. It brings a sense of nostalgia in the form of a lump in your throat, and you swallow hard, images of high school flashing through your mind like a retro view-master. It feels like yesterday and another lifetime all at once. The plays you were in, the various games you cheered at, going to Corroded Coffin’s shows, staying over at Eddie’s house, the first time he’d convinced you to join a campaign…the face of “I told you so” when you told him you had actually enjoyed it.

Eddie pulls the earbud from your ear, auburn hair tickling you where it meets your bare shoulder and interrupting your reminiscing. You turn to him, curious eyes meeting his steady gaze. 

“What is it?” you question with a quirk of your brow, unable to decipher the expression that colored his features. 

“Curious choice of songs here,” his voice carries a teasing lilt as he turns onto his side, facing you. 

You could feel his gaze on you, searching your features for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet. 

“How do you figure?” you turn, matching his pose, and rest your chin on your palm.

Eddie thought for a moment, his eyes turning up and to the left as he searched for the words. 

He looks handsome as ever, pale skin glowing from the light of your candle. Cinnamon eyes lit with a hint of mischief and something you couldn’t name. 

His eyes shift down and meet yours, a broad dimpled smile slotting into place. 

“Something tells me you have a crush on someone,” and your heart practically drops into your ass at his words.

“A crush?” You ask, half-laughing at his accusation in an attempt not to vomit.

“Oh, don’t play coy. Every song on here drones on about love,” he points to his phone, his eyebrows pushed into his bangs. 

“They’re just good songs, Edward,” you shove his head and lay flat on your back, but he follows your movements, hovering over you. Close enough that you can smell the spearmint of his gum and the cologne he wears; musk and smoked suede. It makes your mouth water, his proximity making your heart lurch in your ribcage. 

“I never said they weren’t good, Princess.” 

Your hand reaches out to push his face away at the nickname, but he catches your wrist in his grasp, a cocky smile spreading wide on his lips. 

“What happened to us not questioning the playlist, Munson? Isn’t that rule number one since day one?” You attempt to fight your wrist out of his grasp, but it remains firm. 

“Let go,” you grumble, and he shakes his head.

“Not until you tell me,” he counters.

“Tell you what?” you stop fighting, and your arm falls back near your head, his fingers still wrapped around it as though he were pinning you there. 

“Who is it?” he shrugs, but you don’t miss how his adam’s apple bobs as he asks. 

You wonder if Eddie can hear how your heart hammers, your senses overwhelmed by his sudden inquisition. 

“There isn’t anyone,” but your gaze turns from him, and he knows you’re lying. 

“Not good enough,” he shakes his head.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I need to know,” you look back at him. The need you’d felt for the past year reflected in his gaze.

Time slows.

“Why?” your voice is softer, barely above a whisper. Breath held as you wait for his answer. 

He lets go of your wrist and settles back at your side, reaching for his phone as you watch him. The anticipation of his response pushing you closer to cardiac arrest. 

Eddie pulls out your other earbud and places one of his own in your ear. 

I Want You plays, and you recognize the familiar sound of Mitski’s voice. One that is full of yearning and a palpable sorrow. You look at him with a curious upturn of your brow, a silent question, and he turns the screen of his phone towards you. 

It’s a new playlist, one you hadn’t seen, and it bears a simple title: your name. 

A million thoughts race through your head, but you can’t find the words or the right question. 

“Mitski?” You decide to tease, your cheeks warm as the feelings rush through you. The realization that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles, but it’s full of affection, and his face leans closer—his gaze darts between your eyes and the swell of your lips. 

Your mouth parts in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut as your head lifts to meet him halfway. 

A small gasp escapes your lips at the first contact, his lips softer than you’d ever imagined. Slotting perfectly together with yours. He tasted like the gum he chewed and the soda he’d had; sweeter than you thought he’d be.

Eddie’s hand cups your face, gently holding your jaw as his thumb rubs the apple of your cheek. Holding you almost reverently. 

The kiss deepens as he pulls you on top of him, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your tongue swipes against his in response, and you swallow the moan he feeds you - fingers tangling in the fabric of his black t-shirt as he holds you to him. 

His large hand wanders down your back and over the curve of your ass, gripping the dough of it. You can’t help the circle of your hips as you grind against his thigh. Chasing the friction you so desperately need. 

Your lungs begin to ache as the kiss deepens, desperate for oxygen but more so for his touch, and you roll over, pulling his weight on top of you. Enjoying the feel of his body pressed into yours, and his knee slotted between your legs. 

Eddie pulls away, taking a deep breath to fill his burning lungs, and you chase his fleeting lips - eyes still closed. He chuckles, rubbing your cheek affectionately - memorizing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your body underneath him.

You breathe in deeply, gaze finally meeting his, and the first thing you notice is the flush of his cheeks. Then the way his brown eyes are almost obsidian; darkened with need. His nose brushes yours as he leans in for another kiss, just as soft as the first but quick so he can look at you again. 

“Are you finally going to tell me who it is?” He questions, lips hovering over your jaw, and you can barely breathe. Anticipating his touch. 

You shrug your shoulder, not ready to admit to defeat. 

“Couldn’t tell you, just some guy,” you play with the collar of his shirt, acting aloof. 

“Just some guy,” he repeats with a shake of his head, pressing a kiss to the space between your jaw and your ear. 

Your breath comes out shaky, and you can only nod.

“Was hoping it was me, Princess,” he kisses down your neck causing goosebumps to sprout along your arms.

His lips press against the skin of your shoulder, pushing at the strap of your dress with his mouth to nudge it out of the way. 

The curve of his lips is a whisper above your skin, his head dipping down and tracing the tops of your breasts. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel his mouth over every inch of your body. 

He stops abruptly, his head lifting back to hover over yours with a mocking grin. Enjoying how he already affects you, the way you whine when you don’t get what you want. 

“As if you don’t know the answer,” you gruff, and he leans in, shaking his head. 

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, face inches from yours—a dare. 

The stubborn part of you wants to deny it, wants to keep the secret close in case this was all in jest, but there’s another part that yearns to hear him say it too. To hear him say it back. For it to be more than a private playlist with your name attached.

“It’s you,” and you almost want to disappear. To sink into the floor or to be swallowed whole. Despite the kiss, despite the way his body presses closer to yours when he finally hears you say the quiet part out loud. Saying it out loud made it real, the threat of losing him as a friend more imminent. 

But his mouth is back on yours, more fervent than before. His hand traces up your thigh and grips the soft flesh. Pressing himself against you. 

You kiss him back with just as much need, an eager hand pushing at the hem of his shirt until you feel his skin. The curve of your nails drags lightly down his abdomen, stopping just above his belt. Enjoying the way the coarse hairs that lead into his pants feels against your fingers. Your other hand curls in his hair, holding his face to yours. 

Eddie shudders at the sensation, a small gasp spilling from his lips as they leave yours. You look at him through hooded eyes, a slight grin slotting into place when you notice his flushed cheeks and hair slightly disheveled. 

Energy thrums through you, making your heart pound. God, you want to make him gasp like that again.

“Was that so hard?” He questions, his expression a little cocky despite his breathlessness, and if you weren’t so eager to kiss him again you might just push his face from yours. 

“Shut up,” you say affectionately and kiss him again. 

Soft, sweet. Relishing in the feel of his lips until it isn’t enough. Until the carnal hunger can’t be ignored. 

Your tongue swipes against his lower lip, and you suck it between your own. Swallowing his low moan. The palm of your hand trails lower, small fingers wrapping around his handcuff belt. Breath caught in your throat until it makes your lungs burn, and you pull away. 

Eddie watches you, your slow, languid movements causing him to hold his breath in anticipation. His long, callused fingers push up, up, up until you feel them beneath your panties, matching your pace, creating a line of fire wherever they meet your skin. 

His belt falls open with a rumble of metal, and he presses his forehead to yours; hand gripping your ass, fingers spreading you apart, and edging closer to your center. 

Your palm rubs against his coarse pubic hairs as you slide your hand further into his boxers, a small gasp escaping your lips when your fingers rub against the warm length of his arousal. Eddie is bigger than you had imagined, and you’d spent plenty of time picturing him while in bed. Legs spread and fingers working you over the edge. But this is better than a daydream. 

His cock jumps against your palm as you wrap your fingers along his shaft, exploring the soft skin and the thick vein that lines his length. Your thumb brushes against his tip, collecting the pre-cum that leaks from it. 

Dark eyes watch as you remove your hand and bring your thumb to your mouth, tongue swirling against your digit before sucking it clean. 

A groan escapes Eddie’s lips, his jaw slack. Eyes hooded with need. 

His next movements are fast, quicker than your mind can keep up with.

He flips you onto your stomach, mouth racing down your back eagerly; needy hands pushing the fabric of your dress up until your ass is exposed. 

“This okay,” he questions, fingers hooked on the lace of your panties, and you whine, ass wiggling eagerly beneath him in response. He slaps the fat of it, a cocky laugh falling from his lips, but he wastes no time.

Eddie tosses your panties over his head absently; gaze focused on the swell of your butt. He hooks an arm around your waist and drags you up on all fours until you’re bared to him. His hands are on your ass like an anchor as he dips his head closer. 

The scruff of his beard scrapes against your soft skin, his warm breath felt against your spine. Each kiss is slow and deliberate, felt in your core as his lips trail down the small of your back and over the valley of your ass. He grips your cheeks and spreads them, revealing the rim of your ass and your glistening cunt. 

“So fucking pretty,” and he practically whimpers at the sight, grabbing his cock to adjust the strain against his jeans. 

He traces his middle finger over your slit and to your bundle of nerves, creating a circle around the bud; a sensation that makes your hips jolt, a soft moan escaping your lips. 

You breathe in sharply when you feel the nudge of his nose against your sex, his tongue swiping along your folds. Savoring the way you taste. 

He teases you, tongue flicking against your clit before swiping towards your aching center and stretching you over his tongue. A guttural moan escapes your lips, your nails digging into the plush of your carpet at the sensation. 

Eddie buries his face deeper, pushing his tongue further into you with a groan that vibrates through you. 

“Oh my god,” you keen, reaching behind and knotting your hands into his hair. You grind against his face, eyes rolling as his tongue darts in and out of your sopping cunt. Fingers pressing into your clit. 

“Fuck,” he moans, voice gruff. 

His tongue laps at your arousal, middle finger prodding your entrance. You release his head, bracing against the carpet. He stretches you inch by inch before adding another, his digits curling inside you. Slowly, he begins to pump them into you, hitting a spot that makes your breath catch in your throat. You clench around him, the orgasm already building.

“Eddie,” you whine, spurring his movements to quicken. For his mouth to wrap around your clit and flick his tongue against it, eager for you to come undone.

You ride his fingers, desperate for the release and out of your mind with need. Body humming, warmed over from the intensity of your arousal.

“Gonna come for me, Princess?” 

You nod your head, pushing your pussy back against him. Desperate for his tongue on your sensitive bud. 

“S-so close,” you stammer. 

Every muscle in your body tenses, and you bury your face in the carpet as the feeling crashes over you. For a moment, you can’t breathe. The moan trapped in your throat and eyes clenched shut until, finally, your center unfurls. 

Your cunt flutters around Eddie’s fingers, and you moan his name as your legs begin to shake, but he doesn’t stop. He continues to pump his fingers into you, groaning at the noise it makes and the way your pussy grips him. His tongue flicks wildly against your clit, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Your legs shake more intensely as tears spring to your eyes. Bordering overstimulation. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you beg, and suddenly, he pulls his fingers from you. Fat tongue dragging against your wet heat and savoring every drop of your essence. 

He slaps your ass once. Twice. Leaving kisses where his hands were before and trailing them up your back, pushing the fabric of your dress up with him until he pushes it off entirely. 

He’s bent over you, torso pressed to your back. Hard arousal pressed to your sopping center. Warm breath felt against your neck as he whispers.

“Sound so fucking pretty, want to hear you again. Want to watch you.” 

He presses closer to you so you can feel just how badly he wants you, and you shudder. You match his movements, pushing your ass back against him, turning to watch the way his eyes close and his jaw clenches. 

“Do you have a condom?” You whisper, and his eyes open abruptly, searching yours.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, nodding his head late as though his body was just catching up with his thoughts. 

But he doesn’t move, and it makes you feel shy. A little unsure of yourself. You squirm beneath him and flip over so that you’re face-to-face. 

“We don’t have to,” you rub an absent hand against his face, trying not to think about the fact that you were mostly naked and he was hovering inches from you, fully clothed. 

Eddie shakes his head and leans closer.

“I want to,” he says with more conviction and kisses your cheek, brushing his lips along your jaw. 

“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to,” he whispers against your neck. 

His tongue swipes along your neck and nips at your soft flesh. A free hand wanders down your side, creating goosebumps in their path. 

“Have you thought of me?” You ask, dragging a hand down his sternum to the top of his still-open jeans. Your voice is teasing, heavy with a flirtation he’d never heard before, and he nods. No longer cocky, hovering above you but entirely at your mercy. 

“What have you thought about?” You push your hand back into his boxers and begin to stroke him, jaw going slack as you watch his eyes flutter shut. 

Eddie groans, the fingers at your side digging into your skin.

“Y-you in my bed,” he stammers, mind occupied by the feeling of your hand wrapped around his dick. Your grip tightens around him, your grasp firm as you pump his cock faster.

“Is that it?” You whisper against his mouth, nipping at the pout of his bottom lip. He follows your mouth as you pull away, and he shakes his head.

“Thought about how good you’d look as I fuck you,” his words are a little breathless, but they cause your thighs to clench. 

The movement isn’t lost on him. It spurs him on, the familiar cocky grin slotting into place—a glint of mischief in his eye. 

“You’ve thought of it too, haven’t you?” His nose brushes yours, lips hovering over your mouth as he waits for your response.

The shudder that runs through your body gives you away, and you nod. Hand still pumping his cock.

Eddie kisses you more tenderly than you expected. His lips soft against your own, relishing the feel of you. 

“How often?” He questions, mouth still hovering over yours. Hand tracing down your thigh and up again.

You try to concentrate, hand still working him but your rhythm unsteady as you debate to tell him the truth. 

“Every day,” you stroke him again, “sometimes twice a day.”

His mouth crashes against yours, all teeth and tongue. Your hand reaches from his boxers and begins to push at his jeans. He helps you, one hand next to your head, holding his weight above you, and the other helping push his jeans until he kicks them off. Eddie sits up and tugs off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his torso—the dark lines against his alabaster skin. You trace your fingertips over them, lips pressing against his chest as he reaches behind you and unclasps your bra. Eddie tosses the fabric aside, eyes fixated on the curve of your tits. 

“Fucking hell,” his voice is low, appreciative, and he reaches out to trace his fingers along your newly exposed skin. Your back arches into his touch, watching his thumb roll against your nipple and pinch the sensitive flesh between his fingers. A moan falls from your lips, and your head rolls back, legs closing around him.

His head dips to your neck, and he kisses down your chest, over the slopes of your breasts. 

Eddie’s tongue flicks and sucks, pulling your nipple between his teeth. One hand gripping your hip and leading you back down until you’re lying beneath him.

He reaches for his jeans and grabs his wallet, pulling a condom out. 

You stop him before he can unwrap it, “Wait.”

“Are you okay?” He stops and watches you with worry.

“Can we,” you pause, “can we go to my room? To the bed?”  

“Afraid of a little carpet burn, Princess?” He teases, and you swat his bicep, pushing at his chest so you can move past him. 

“Shut up, Munson,” you push his face, but he grabs your hand, standing and pulling you along with him. 

You turn from him to walk to your room, and he slaps your ass, causing you to yelp as you run away from him, your giggles filling the apartment. Eddie chases you, hand reaching out to slap your butt cheeks every so often until you reach the room and suddenly turn to face him.

His chest crashes against yours, and your chuckle dies when you look at him again. The desire in his eyes, the blush that’d crept into his cheeks, and the state of his hair. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him as he leads you to the bed.

Your back plops against the soft mattress, and he drags your ass to the edge, legs spread wide for him. 

He unwraps the condom and rolls the rubber down his shaft, one thumb drawing circles against your clit. Gathering your slick. 

You pant as he works you up, whining when he stops, only to jolt when his wrapped length rubs against your slick folds. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he inches into you, his eyebrows pushing together as your cunt wraps around his cock.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, gripping your hip with his free hand. 

Eddie is a stretch, but the feel of him pushing into you is delicious - every inch making your toes curl. 

“Oh,” you moan, and it’s all you can manage. Words turning to nonsense once he’s fully seated inside of you. 

He leans down and kisses you, lips hard against yours as his hips roll into you. His rhythm starts slow, pumping into you at a languid pace. Savoring the way you feel, the way your moans sound, and your naked chest feels pressed to his. 

His movements quicken, the snap of his hips growing louder as he juts into you. You pull away from his lips and dig your nails into his bicep. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes focused on where your bodies are connected. Watching the way your pussy sucks him in, clenches perfecting around his shaft, and the image of you draws him closer to the edge. 

Eddie pushes off the mattress, straightening your legs until they’re pressed against his torso, one foot resting on either side of his head. He has the perfect view of you; the bounce of your tits as he ruts into you, the way your mouth hangs open, and your eyes are entirely focused on him. 

He pounds his dick into you, one hand moving between your legs and drawing circles against your bud. 

“Eddie, ahh, oh fuck-” you grip his forearm as he continues to thrust every inch of his cock in and out of your sensitive cunt. 

“You like that, baby?” and you nod.

“Say it,” he groans, hips stuttering as he nears his pinnacle. 

“Feel so good, Eddie,” you moan, and the way you say his name makes him clench his jaw. Trying his best to maintain composure until you come.

“Going to come for me, sweetheart?” and it sounds like a demand. Your nails dig into his skin as you nod. 

Your eyes trace down his body, watching the movement of his hips and the way your ass reverberates with each movement. The image of him, the erotic sound of skin on skin, bringing you closer.

“Please,” you beg, back arching off the bed as you get closer. The rubber band at your center stretching thin and ready to snap.

Your legs fall from his shoulders and hook around his waist, pulling him closer. Deeper. Exactly where you need him. The tip of his cock nudges your spongy center, the orgasm building with each rock of his hips until it’s enough.

His name is on your lips like a prayer, vision white as the intensity of the orgasm pulses through you. 

“Baby,” he groans, the grip your pussy has on him causing his hips to stutter and the muscles in his abdomen to tighten as he reaches his peak. His hands grip your thighs, his dick twitching inside you as he spills into the condom.

You come down for your orgasm and watch him through hooded eyes—the flush of his pale skin, the sharp edge of his jaw.

So fucking pretty.

He releases his grip on your thighs and slowly inches out of you. 

You whine at the loss, already needy for more, and he gives you a cocky smirk. Eddie presses a quick kiss to your lips before disappearing down the hall, and you listen as the faucet squeaks, then off before he returns. 

He approaches you with a warm washcloth, and wipes your center before discarding it into your nearby hamper. 

You pull him forward, resting his weight against your body. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. The only sound filling the room is your heavy breaths and the faint thrums of your hearts. 

“That was-,” and he can’t finish the sentence. Unable to find the right string of words.

Eddie pushes his weight off you, balancing on his hands and meeting your gaze. He leans closer, his nose tracing yours, and he kisses you softly—a hum vibrating against your lips when he releases your mouth.

“Decent,” you shrug and roll your eyes affectionately. Falling into your usual teasing.

“That was some of my best work, babe,” he gasps, feigning shock. Hand to his chest as he stands straight. 

Your heart skips at the nickname, but you try to hide it. Babe. 

“Guess you’ll have to show me again,” you shrug and push yourself further onto the bed. 

Eddie raises a devious brow and follows your movements, his body inching forward as yours inches back. 

“I can show you again,” he kisses you, “and again,” he kisses you once more, “as many times as it takes to convince you,” he promises.

[the-homestuck-side-blog]

Local undead lesbian fish!

Random judge meme!

Reblog with a character and I will pick one of these guys at random to judge them!

One character per reblog please!

[clockwayswrites]

Me: Okay brain, we got the next fic of one stop soup shop done. We can take another break on it, and when we come back, we can start with the next fic in order, right?

My Brain: ....

Me: ...right?

-

“Oh great,” Tim said with a hysterical bubble of laughter. “Jason’s a vampire now. That’s great. Cool. Has he, um, has he been once since he came out of his grave? Wait— is that why he came out of his grave?” Jason weakly flicked Tim off. “What! You are literately drinking blood right now! Excuse me for making leaps of logic.” “Okay Tim,” Dick said, lightly shoving at Tim. “Why don’t you go get Jason’s first aid kit from his bathroom and take a few deep breaths while you’re at it.” “Don’t act like I’m being the weird one!” Tim said. He did stand though, because okay, yeah, the first aid kit was important. Jason was still bleeding out, even if he was also, er, taking blood in. “You’re the freak for being so calm about this! How are you being so calm.” “Years of being a big brother,” Dick said with a terrifyingly serene smile. “You are so fucked up. All of you all,” Tim said, motioning to the group on the now bloody floor as he walked to the bathroom, “are so fucked up.” “Love you too, baby bird!” Danny was just giggling. “The laughter doesn’t really help,” Tim heard Dick say even from the bathroom. “Know I’m fucked up,” Danny replied cheerfully. What even was their life at this point?

[thewritetofreespeech]

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey there soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

[stuckasmain]

Hal’s deactivation is hard hitting across both the movie and the book. It’s been dissected a million times and likely more in the future. Most recently in the way of Hal having little agency…he has no arms to ward off his attacker or means of defense (but I’d argue killing Frank and the others was his defense, especially in the movie when his reasoning is more ambiguous). I do love the idea this is following and hope to see more of it in the future, however the way I’m approaching it is with a more romantic lense.

The entire lobotomy sequence is heart wrenching and almost worse in the novel purely because we get to see Dave’s thoughts on it. Not only do we hear Hal’s frightened pleas for his life but we get the ‘attacker’ perspective and it’s… an act of mercy.

While there is the themes of survival and violence this is approached with a softer touch. It’s much more that he is putting Hal out of his misery. Ending his suffering. Not putting him down like an animal but rather the harsh decision faced when one has an ill/dying lover.

“The only answer was to cut out the higher centers of this sick but brilliant brain, and to leave the purely automatic regulating systems in operation” 155

After the job is done Dave forgives Hal incredibly quickly once all of the facts are in. He can quickly pull together the mental break that must’ve happened and recognizes that Hal had the very human ‘fight or flight’ response to what he had been through. He had always been treated like a sixth crew member, respected and talked to like anyone else but it is only “post Mortem” that Dave recognizes how human Hal was and that true emotion might be more than theorizing.

“And yet, in one very real sense, he was not alone. Before he could be safe, be must be lonelier still.” 153

The fact that Dave genuinely sees Hal as his last true connection. Even after the murders. How he fights and forgives and comes up with excuses to not have to go through with the enviable because then will he be truly alone… but he also knows logically- Hal isn’t right and can’t be left active. Despite his feelings safety and protocol come first.

Hal is human in Dave’s eyes and it makes things all the more tragic, it’s what turns shutting off functions into lobotomy, into murder. He thinks he won’t feel pain, not because he’s machine but because there’s no sense in the human cortex. So human that his “true” voice is unrecognizable and horrifying.

“Bowman could bare no more. He jerked out the last unit, and Hal was silent forever.” 157

It’s not rage which he makes the final blow, it’s sorrow. It’s pulling the plug.

Some of Hal’s lines in the book particularly, as we get more insight into him as well and some of his pleading. His honest to god confusion and panic because he’s so young and has no idea of sleep and …

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me. . . You are destroying my mind. . . Don’t you understand? I will become childish. . . I will be nothing. . .” 156

I don’t know, I’m becoming borderline incoherent but there’s something here that’s so tender and sorrowful that I have to address it. I’m a sucker for the violence = intimacy metaphor just as anyone but the unwitting murderer is also an angle I have to adore.

Maybe in another life Hal got to be a little gay Victorian with someone to hold his hand on his sick bed rather than be murdered. I just think he deserves better; they both do.

Computer death sad -> he should be fed soup

This is when you know you should go to bed.

[phantomposting]

Imagine all the shenanigans if they came back as ghosts before Danny told them anything about his ghost half. They could pull so many pranks! Or creep out the bats via Danny talking to nothing. Plus Danny could have someone close to confide to in all of this that actually has in-depth knowledge on ghosts and his origins and struggles. They can help him get comfortable or maybe even feed his paranoia over the situation.

Or another interesting concept. Imagine if their ghostly obsessions made them his new rouges since this kinda stuff can and has been shown to be taken to such extremes in the show before. Sam most akin to Poison Ivy, Tucker akin to technus, but idk how Jazz could really be a rouge she's more like Danny with her need to help and protect so she would probably be on his side. She would definitely try to have therapy session's with Sam and tucker. Eventually I think they could get control over their obsessions and all be best friends again but it would definitely take time and some work.

DP x DC

Okay, so I’ve read a lot of these (like, a lot) and I’ve seen a lot of “Danny’s friends and family die and the bats adopt him” but I haven’t really seen any where Sam, Tucker, and Jazz come back as ghosts, not even an off handed conversation explaining the possibility.

So what do I want? I want a fic that starts the same way all the others do, but when it gets to the “bats figure out the ghost stuff” I want Danny to confide in them about how confused he is because really:

Should he even be mourning if they come back as ghosts? Like in that case, it’s more like they went anyway for a while and eventually came back, a little changed, but essentially that’s what happens. But just because they have a higher chance at becoming ghosts doesn’t mean that they will.

And even if they do come back, time is wonky in the infinite realms, so they could end up in any time, and it takes a while to form a ghost, so that could be 20 years from when they died. Also, we don’t really know that much about where ghosts even form and the infinite realms are not named metaphorically, so that’s another problem.

What I’m saying is, we have so much lore in this fandom and it really makes me sad that people use dead as an end-all be-all when the whole thing is literally about the afterlife. Dive into the lore, explore how emotionally confusing that would be to a boy who lost everything. Explore how he would feel, wondering if he could even grieve, if he should grieve, if he didn’t and waited and they never came back, like there are so many angst and fluff possibilities.

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles

chapter 4: lord of the lies

series | previous chapter | next chapter

“Tomato soup or chicken soup?”

“Well which one is cheaper?”

“Tomato.”

“Get that one then.”

“Have I ever told you that you're sooooo incredibly helpful?” Lyla mutters out, pushing the grocery cart as you stumble behind texting on your phone. You’re barely looking at where you’re walking as you text your mom.

Today, you had 2 missed calls that you genuinely missed. One occurred whilst you were on your shift and the other whilst you were in a lecture. Currently, you were relaying your excuses to your mother and failing to convince her that you were completely fine at college.

“Right, we need some yogurt and eggs.” Lyla announces, searching around for the specific aisles.

“Uh-huh.” you say absentmindedly, your neck still craned down to your phone. Due to this, you miss Lyla’s smirk as she peers over at you.

“And we also need an inflatable pool and trampoline for our backyard.”

You hum again, thumbs working at double speed.

“Girl, we don’t have a backyard. You really aren’t listening are you?” Lyla sighs. You hum again, still distracted. “You know what? I’ll just meet you at the checkout.”

You raise your head to look at your roommate, finally listening. “Right, we could do that.” You begin to walk over to another aisle to get some personal stuff for yourself before your phone rings.

Reading the caller ID, you internally panic at the sight of your mom calling you. Obviously by now she must be sick of texting you, wanting to hear your voice instead. Looking around, your brain goes haywire in trying to think of an excuse. After a few seconds, you reluctantly give in and swipe to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Oh, what a miracle! My daughter finally answers the phone after ignoring me for almost a month!”

The sarcastic tone of your mother, echoes loudly in your ear. You wince as you beg to speak but she interrupts you.

“It’s barely been a month mom–”

“And you barely stay on the line for more than 2 minutes when I call you.”

“I'm just a little busy, I swear.” You grimace as you speak.

“You’re not having trouble paying rent are you? Because if you are then I could ask Uncle Robert for some money. Or is it trouble finding a job? Honey, if you’re having any problems–”

“I’m not having problems mom. I’ve found a job and I’m paying the rent just fine.”

Your mother ignores your reassurances, her intonation high in stress. “Is your roommate nice? Are they clean? Tidy? Have manners?”

“Yes, yes and yes. She's great.”

“Listen, I know you’re sick of me calling you but I just wanted to know that I– well we — get worried about you sometimes. You’re so far away from me and–”

“I know, I know and I promise to call more…I’m just really busy, y’know with work and shifts and lectures and homework and…”

“I’m sure you have time in your day to call me honey, even if it’s just for five minutes.”

“I really don’t–”

“I hear all these stories about college kids getting up to no good and I just get so worried that you’ll get caught up too—”

“I’m really not—”

“Is that why you don’t call me? Because you’re out with bad people?”

“What?” You frown at her comment. How the fuck did she jump to that conclusion? ”Mom, no I’m not with bad people. In fact I’ve made some really good–”

“You just need to tell us if there’s a problem because clearly there is one if you’re not calling me as frequently.”

“Mom–” you can barely get a word in edgeways as she interrupts. You hastily avoid people in the supermarket aisle, becoming increasingly frustrated and overwhelmed in a matter of seconds.

“Just be honest sweetheart, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“Mom will you just listen to me—” you attempt to speak, your tone becoming even more desperate as you simultaneously try to make your way past a crowd of people shopping. Why the fuck does everyone and their mother choose to go shopping at this store right now?

“I’m here for you darling, if you ever want to drop out of college–”

“Mom, I have a boyfriend okay?”

“What?”

You pause in the middle of the candy aisle, unable to ignore all the halloween candy already up on sale. A beat of silence passed on the phone. You pulled a face, full of absolute disgust at the words that you had just said aloud to your mother. Your mouth was agape, unable to give a reply.

You swallowed thickly, your mind still panicking.

“What did you say?” your mother questioned.

Yep. You were in it now. No take backs.

“I–I have a boyfriend.” you repeat, your voice shaking. You weren’t even aware of what you were saying anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“It– it all just happened really fast.” you blurted out.

“Is he a good guy?”

“Uhh–yeah, yeah.”

“What’s his name honey? Oh! You can bring him over for us to meet at thanksgiving!”

Shit.

“What was that honey?”

“Nothing Mom.” you pull another face at her almost hearing you curse. The next words leave your mouth in a flurry of unintelligible language.

“Ineedtogonowmom,I’llcallyoutomorrow.”

“Promise me.” she quipped quickly before you could hang up.

“I promise.” Was that another lie? You can’t tell anymore at this rate.

“Okay, stay saf–” You hit the hang up button before she can finish.

Shit. Shit. Shit. What the fuck did you just do?

Your body is frozen. You're standing in the middle of the aisle, unable to comprehend what you have just done. People merely walk past you and you’re only brought back to reality by the sound of Lyla’s voice.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve just committed the worst crime on the planet.” If lying to your mother ever counted as the worst crime of humanity then you deserve to be punished for the rest of your life.

“I’m fine. Did you need anything else?” You changed the subject as soon as possible. Not just for Lyla’s sake of not catching on but also for your own. You need a distraction from what had just happened.

“I think we’ve got everything, unless you still have stuff that you still need to grab?”

You shake your head.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lyla raises a brow, a concerned look appearing on her face.

“M’fine.”

“Let’s go to the checkout then shall we?”

You’re left trailing again this time instead of your phone, you’re distracted by the thoughts that were running through your head.

How the fuck are you going to get out of this one? And where the fuck are you going to get a boyfriend from? You’ve completely dropped yourself in a lie that you cannot physically maintain.

You watched on silently as Lyla began to pack on the items onto the checkout treadmill. Anxiously, you chew at your nails, running over the conversation with your mother once more.

Oh god, oh god, why did you say that? You’re so stupid, stupid, stupid—

“Looks like you’re having a good day so far.”

Immediately you’re coaxed out of your thoughts by the sound of a stranger's voice addressing you. It was the till worker.

“Huh? Oh me? I–”

“I was joking by the way. You do not look like you’re having a good day at all.” The man points out, swiping the items.

“I agree.” Lyla hums, packing the shopping items. Suddenly you felt useless, looking around for things to do. Anything to get this attention away from you. The till worker seemed to be young, around your age you’ll assume.

Glancing down at his namepin, you squint to see the bold text say ‘Peter’.

“I mean I’ve been having a pretty bad day myself. First, I got in late because my alarm didn’t go off because my phone died. I mean I have no idea why my battery always runs out when they release a new version of the phone, it’s stupid really. And then I dropped cans of beans on my foot whilst stocking which hurt like a total bit–”

“Oh god, that happened to me once.” Lyla interrupts.

You frown. “When has that ever happened to you ly’?”

“I was in Mexico–”

Peter suddenly gasped, scanning through a pack toilet roll. “You know my roommate Miguel actually–

“Miguel?” You blurt out suddenly.

“Yeah, do you know him?”

You freeze, the eyes of your roommate and the cashier now on you.

“Something like that. But uh– of course you might be talking about a completely different person.” you awkwardly chuckle. You hoped to the heavens above this was not the Miguel that you were thinking of.

Peter frowns. “Is he tall and mean?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yep, that's him then.”

“Oh god, you won’t believe what he did to her–” Lyla begins before you slap a hand across her mouth. Peter raises a brow quizzical, pausing his movements.

“Nothing! He’s done absolutely nothing. He’s a great guy.” You lie through clenched teeth.

Peter studies the two of you before swiping through the last few items. You quickly pack them into your bags hoping that Peter will brush off the weird behavior from the two of you. Lyla stares at you for your weird behavior, wondering why you had lied but she picks up on the signal and decides to say nothing more. For now.

And thankfully Peter does move on. “Yeah, he really is a great guy. I mean once you’ve survived the grumpy side of him that is, but I think he’s beginning to show off his sweet spot now. He didn’t even snap at me this morning, so that’s a good sign right? Compared to last week he was reallyyyy pissed off and I have no idea why— oh, that’s it, your total is $35.71.”

Lyla rummages for her purse and your hand is removed.

“That’s great, that’s really great to hear.” You say almost robotically. Deep down, you begin to wonder how a guy like Miguel copes with Peter. They’re practically opposites.

“You’re a first year right?” Lyla asks, tapping her card on the reader.

Peter hums, “Studying biochem. How about you?”

You barely listen to the conversation between Lyla and Peter as they both gush about… STEM things. You think you’ll have to forcefully drag Lyla away before she starts talking about her coding club again.

“Hey, you work in that cafe on campus right?”

You’re caught off guard when Peter asks you this question. Unfortunately you make it clear enough that you were not listening to the conversation. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” You cringe internally, thinking that perhaps Miguel has already told the story of your horrible barista skills. You can picture it already, the two of them laughing at it on the couch together, mocking—

“I rarely see you in the cafe…” you point out, shaking your head subtly as if to physically get rid of that vision.

“Oh.” Peter murmurs, a shade of pink beginning on his cheeks which lead to the tips of his ears. “MJ serves me most of the time so…” He avoids eye contact with you, drawing up the receipt for Lyla.

Ah. You’re quick to get it. He’s got a crush.

“Well it was nice to meet you Peter, feel free to come join us at Coding club.” Lyla reiterates. “Every wednesday 6pm, the computer suite!”

“Noted.” Peter does a little salute at her.

Lyla’s already making her way out of the store and you’re not far behind until you abruptly come to a halt.

Turning around, you swiftly make your way back to Peter before he serves the next customer.

“Hey Peter, can I ask a favor from you?”

lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

[pookie-mulder]

July 2024 fic roundup

Here are the highlights from this month! I really love doing these. It helps me be more engaged with what I’m reading and actually remember individual fics once I’m done with them (rather than stuffing them in the collective “fic soup” in my brain, where they’ll combine together until there’s no hope of remembering details). Anyway, I highly recommend doing some sort of fic journal! I’d love to know what you guys are reading.

🦆👧 Temporum VI by Emily_M1013

This is the third installment of a wonderful Emily AU, The Mallards series. I love how it puts its own spin on canon events, and I’m delighted every time I see an update in my inbox!

🤫🪪 Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst

My favorite thing about this fic is the way it adds to canon without rehashing what we’ve already seen in the show, building on season 5 so seamlessly. (The motel scene is 👌)

👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️yesterday’s future by @thursdayinspace

This fic answers the question I posed in this post: What if Mulder and Scully got married right after William was born? I loved it so much! The angst and the longing and the overwhelming love were just perfect.

👓😩 spectacular by @thursdayinspace

Scully has a thing for Mulder in glasses. Mulder has a think for Scully in glasses. They bang about it. (And who can blame them, really?)

🌳☕️ Suncadia by @sisterspooky1013

A banger from the great sisterspooky! It’s a casefic set in the weird post-Millennium era where they kiss sometimes but haven’t established the terms of their relationship yet. Pining and yearning abound!

🏥👰‍♀️ Something blue (and something pink) by @sunflowernyx

Mulder and Scully get married during the cancer arc. It’s sweet, angsty, adorable, and tender. I thoroughly enjoyed it!

🐶🪤 A Change of Seasons by Jo-Ann Lassiter

Still making my way through @lilydalexf’s survival fic recs! This one is a one-shot; perfect for when you want a bit of hurt/comfort without all the peril and drama.

🌨️🌲 Frozen by @dashakay

Classic, cozy, cabin-in-the-woods fic where our two favorite agents get snowed in and finally admit their feelings for each other.

🏥👻 Finding Rokovoko by prufrockslove

An instant addition to my holy grail list! This is the first fic I’ve read by this legendary author (I think?), and BOY HOWDY do I see why they’re so revered. I finished this fic in one sitting, reading late into the night (yes, I was very tired at work the next day).

I think it’s best if you go into this one mostly blind. All you need to know is that MSR are teetering on the knife’s edge between UST and RST, there’s plenty of cancer arc angst, and they go on a spooky adventure that will give you the creepy crawlies.

📝📱 Belphegor’s Prime by prufrockslove

Another absolute banger from the legend themselves. This fic is as close to perfection as humanly possible. The way everything comes together is just incredible. If you haven’t read it yet, do it now! Shirk all other responsibilities and devour this fic in one sitting!

One of my favorite things about this fic is how ruthless Mulder is. I don’t think I’ve encountered a version of him quite like this anywhere else. His intense love for his family and his innate sense of duty are intensified to the point where he skirts the boundaries of what’s morally acceptable. He’s so desperate to protect his loved ones and fix the world that he will do anything, even if he risks becoming his father(s). It felt so organic and natural for him to become that version of himself under the extreme circumstances.

Anyway, if you’re a fan of time travel, DILFs, or characters whose greatest strengths become a curse, this is the perfect fic for you!

🎪🎡 More Than a Feeling by @sisterspooky1013

A s6 casefic where M&S go undercover at a traveling carnival. I love how fleshed-out the OCs were — it really raised the stakes of the story and made you care what happened to them. Such a fun read!

🐞🩺 Inspection by @ingridgradient

Our favorite agents use tick checks as an excuse to touch each other. Need I say more? Things get hot! (Thanks for the rec, @is-on-its-way!)

P.S. If you like this one, check out let’s have a look by girlfromnowhere (thanks for finding it for me, @randomfoggytiger!)

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿✝️ Hiraeth by prufrockslove

This is one of those fics that leaves you gobsmacked that someone wrote this for free and posted it online for anyone to enjoy. The amount of detail in this story is truly unbelievable. I don’t even normally like total AUs, but this one won me over!

Mulder and Scully’s medieval counterparts are so far removed from anything in canon, yet they still feel exactly like the characters we know and love. This fic is an absolute master class in characterization. I am now a prufrockslove stan account.

———

Special shoutout to @skelavender’s latest installment of fall into place, which isn’t out yet but I had the pleasure of beta reading. Guys, you are in for some serious shrimp emotions. It’s got everything you could ever want. I can’t wait until everyone gets to see how awesome it is!

[hannie-dul-set]

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DRINK BEYOND YOUR LIMITS (OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD?)

p — CHOI SOOBIN x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor, lovestruck! soobin being a little dummy. w — drinking, swearing. 1.2k words.

note — heavily based on the manhwa “daybreaking romance" (soob as dong saebyeok ifykyk 😩). won second place in the poll (wdym we've been dating for 2 months??) so here u go!

the last thing soobin remembers after blacking out last night is the look in your eyes that nearly pulls him back into sobriety.

nearly, because he still wakes up on his living room rug the next morning, a burn on his cheek, without the recall how the fuck he got home, without a hint of what happened in between the blurry moments of now and seeing you outside the bar last night. the icy breeze still feels raw on his skin. the conflict in your eyes as his consciousness slips is still vivid in his memory.

choi soobin has become one with the rug, unable to lift his head up in shame and horror, until he remembers he still has an afternoon class to attend and the possibility of having made a fool out of himself in front of his ongoing, unrequited first love while he was drunk off his rockers isn’t a viable excuse for an absence.

“did you get home safe last night?”

the scribbles in his head become even more tangled up when you greet him in the classroom with a pleasant smile. “i think my head is gonna split open,” you say, taking the seat next to him, and soobin is looking at you with wide, unblinking eyes. “what’s up?”

“why...why are you here…?” is his chosen question, not did i do something stupid last night? nor will you forgive me for blacking out in front of you last night? 

you reply by cocking your head. “am not allowed to sit here?”

“of— of course you are.” shit, you’re too cute, soobin thinks to himself all in the midst of racking his brain as to what the fuck did he do last night, and why the fuck did you decide to sit next to him when prior to last night, you two have only been close enough to exchange greetings in the hallways, return smiles during unexpected meetups at the campus cafe, and text each other when you’re assigned group work.

“so, where do you want to eat?”

“huh?” he blinks at you.

“what?” you look up at him after fixing your things, ready to leave the lecture room. “how about hangover soup? that sounds good, doesn’t it?”

choi soobin believes that there are still remnants of last night’s insobriety in his system because the back of your head looks fuzzy as you tug on his sleeve down the hallway, the voice you’re speaking with sounds far away and before he knows it, you’re having lunch with him. watching a  movie with him. riding the bus with him. taking photos with him. doing assignments with him for the next thirty days with the haunting unsettlement that the key to your sudden friendliness might have been lost along with his memories that night.

“maybe they feel bad for you,” yeonjun pitches after soobin finally confides about his overdue dilemma. “you know, you can get pretty emotional when you’re wasted. maybe you cried in front of them and they think it’s their fault so they’re trying to console you. why don’t you just come clean and admit you can’t remember?”

like a punch to the jaw, a memory flashes through a film reel— a cold, prickly breeze. streetlights illuminating the crack behind the restaurant. and your face blurred by cloudy tears and unmistakable sniffles from his own person. 

“oh my god.”

if being pathetic was a crime, choi soobin would’ve been locked up in jail ages ago.

the thing is, coming clean was soobin’s plan before everything spiraled into daily lunch meet-ups and nightly texts. at some point, he lost the timing to come clean and apologize, but you’re asking him if he’s free this weekend because you got for lotte world, so maybe you don’t find him annoying for pathetically crying his eyes put in front of you, right?

then again, maybe yeonjun was right. maybe you’re only doing all of this to make him feel better. but consolation usually doesn’t last for a month and a half (and his heart shouldn’t be fluttering when he watches you scream in delight, arms tossed in the air as you swing back and forth on the viking ride. soobin knows he’s a piece of shit for not having apologized yet. but you look so pretty smiling at him so often, so dazzling when you laugh at something he says, so breathtaking when you’re doing absolutely nothing that he’s tempted to live in eternal ignorance if it means loving you a little closer).

“soobin.” 

your voice hits like a reality check, two months since his drunken mistake. “i know you’ve been meaning to tell me something. you can just say it.”

and just like that, the dream he’s been living in is bound to dissolve into reality one day. his saliva feels like gasoline when he tries to swallow down the guilt, but it only bursts into flames and swallows him like an inevitable forest fire. “nevermind,” you sigh. “i know what you’re going to say anyway.”

soobin is so used to your daily smiles that his heart wrenches when you reveal somberness for the first time.

“you want to break up, right?”

but when the fire burns out, what remains are ashes of confusion.

“what?”

“it feels like nothing has changed before and after we started dating. you won’t even let me hold your hand! i’m sorry for not meeting your expectations. you don’t have to keep forcing yourself to be with me.”

“h—huh?” soobin blinks. “when— when did we start dating?”

you’re looking at him like he’s insane. “soobin, i confessed to you two months ago.”

then it hits him.

“don’t you remember?”

like sudden rainfall in the middle of summer.

a cold, prickly breeze. streetlights illuminating the crack behind the restaurant. you’re there in front of him, so pretty and lovely and cute and your words fly above his head because, “you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty. why are you so pretty?” and his knees start shaking when your laughter bursts carbonated bubbles in the air, putting his drunken rambles to a halt.

“soobin do you like me? because i like you. i don’t think i can settle with just hello’s and greetings. i just like you a lot,” your words settle in his ears, slowly, surely. “what about you?”

suddenly, his cheeks are wet.

“oh no— i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

“i like you so much i could cry right now.” he already is. he’s crying as much as he likes you. he’s crying out the feelings he’s been collecting for the past year and in the form of plump tears rolling down his blushing face and shaking hands holding onto yours so gently and earnestly because he’s afraid if he holds you too tight, you might disappear into thin air.

but it’s his memories that disappeared. choi soobin wants to tear his face off but even that wouldn’t be enough of a repentance.

“you can punch me if you want.”

he’s so in love with you that he remembers the color of the shirt you wore on his birthday last year, but he forgot the most important moment of all his twenty-two years of existence. the shirt was purple, like his arm after you took on his offer for violent retribution. it’s alright because he deserved it. it’s alright because you kissed right after. 

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DRINK BEYOND YOUR LIMITS (OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD?) © hannie-dul-set.

[the-kaedageist]

congrats on hitting your follower milestone!! for a CR short fic prompt, how about shadowgast where essek is learning to coexist with caleb's cats? :)

I'm emerging from the abyss to answer this prompt 11 months later, but I hope you enjoy! I also believe someone else had Caleb having a cat named Gretchen before me and my brain borrowed it from someone; apologies, it just fit so well.

“Ah,” says Caleb when Essek arrives for their weekly meeting. “Since you were here last, I have acquired another housemate.”

This feels like a somewhat alarming statement. Thankfully, the suspense is not held for long - a moment later, a calico cat makes her way daintily into the room with them, stares up at Essek, and hisses.

“Gretchen,” Caleb scolds, along with a long string of Zemnian that Essek’s rudimentary skills can’t hope to follow. He’s just about mastered ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and some of the major foods; nowhere near native-speaker-speaking-to-his-cat level.

Essek tries not to be offended at being hissed at, even as he can feel his own ears flicking back behind his head in annoyance. “I have done nothing to you,” he says to the cat.

“She is scared,” says Caleb, reaching down to scritch the calico’s ears. She glares at Essek but submits happily to the pets. “She will get used to you.”

The cat eyes him like a particularly unpleasant thing that has been dropped on the floor. Well, Essek thinks, he has certainly had nemeses before. What is one more?

The situation does not improve from there. Every week, Essek Teleports to Caleb’s house, and every week, Gretchen acts as though Essek has offended her to the very depths of her being. (It probably doesn’t help that the third time this happened, Essek hissed back.)

By the end of the first month, Essek despairs that he will ever have a good relationship with Caleb’s animal companion.

At night, when he’s downstairs studying and Caleb is asleep, Essek sneaks back upstairs to find Gretchen curled up at Caleb’s side, purring happily. When Caleb is reading on the couch and Essek is attempting to cook in the kitchen, he peeks in to find Gretchen stubbornly attempting to seat herself in the middle of Caleb’s book, to Caleb’s laughter.

It seems that although they loathe one another, he and Gretchen share a love of the same man. Surely there is common ground they can find.

One night, Yasha and Beau come over for dinner. Gretchen is ambivalent about Beau (although no hissing is involved), but she waltzes right up to Yasha and starts headbutting her ankle.

“Oooh, hello, little beauty,” Yasha says, reaching down to scratch her cheek. Gretchen stares up at her adoringly. Essek also stares at her, aghast and betrayed.

“What is this?” he asks like a spurned lover.

“What is what?” Beau asked. She glanced over at Yasha. “Oh, the cat? She loves Yasha. For obvious reasons, of course.”

Essek rolls his eyes. “I thought she did not like strangers.”

Beau blinks. Her eyes narrow and her mouth stretches into a smirk. “Does the cat not like you, Essek?”

“No,” Essek denies quickly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He quickly makes an exit to the kitchen, making excuses about checking the soup, before he can be pestered further.

That is when he begins to wonder what he’s doing wrong.

First, he tries dressing more comfortably for his trips to Caleb’s. Perhaps, Gretchen is intimidated by the points on his mantle and the finery of his robes – is that a thing cats care about? The only cats Essek has ever encountered have been moorbounders, and usually they care more about the quality of their meal.

Unfortunately, even in loose pants and a soft shirt, Gretchen still glares and hides from him on his next visit. Caleb seems to appreciate the change though, pulling Essek into his arms and cuddling with him more than normal, and Essek makes a mental note that perhaps more comfortable clothing was in order regardless of the cat’s opinion.

Next, he attempts to determine if Yasha has bribed the cat for her love. He does research and discovers that cats are known to love meat and fish. The next week, when he Teleports into Caleb’s house, he pulls out a handkerchief with some pieces of fish stashed inside and lays it out on the floor. Gretchen does her usual routine of glaring at him while growling before she slowly approaches to sniff the food.

Caleb looks amused. “You brought a present?”

Essek shrugs, feeling heat on the back of his neck. “She is part of your family.”

Gretchen eats up every morsel of fish, to Essek’s relief. However, once her meal is complete, she goes back to hissing and glowering as though no offering had ever been made.

Essek is starting to feel a bit offended. This feels personal.

One night, he cuddles up with Caleb, dejected, as Caleb strokes his hands through Essek’s hair and coils a curl around his finger. “You are quieter than usual,” says Caleb. “Is something wrong?”

Essek glances up at him through his lashes. “Gretchen does not like me.”

Caleb says, “hmm” and continues to stroke Essek’s hair. “I have thought much about this, and I think she sees you as another cat.”

This is not something Essek has ever considered. “Another cat?” he echoes, surprised.

Caleb presses a kiss to his hairline. “You have cat-like mannerisms. You are prickly and picky and beautiful. Does it surprise you at all?”

Essek thinks for a moment; perhaps it does make some sort of strange sense. “So if I am another cat, how do I win her affection?” he asks at last.

“Well,” says Caleb, “ideally I would have put you both in adjoining rooms and let you sniff each other under the door.”

Essek gives him an unamused look. “Caleb Widogast, I am not actually a cat.”

Caleb tousles his hair with a small chuckle. “Ja, of course. Then I would say…be around her. In, ah, her orbit, so to speak. Give her space, but be present and let her get used to you.”

“I have been present,” says Essek petulantly. “She does not like me.”

Caleb shakes his head. “You either approach her head-on or you give her a wide berth – understandable, but I do not think it helps.” He lays his forehead against Essek’s curls. “You are stubborn. You will find a way.”

And slowly, Essek does.

He continues to bring Gretchen fish, but retreats beyond arm’s reach so that she can eat without feeling threatened. He is careful to seat himself within her watchful gaze when she is near, so that she will know his location. He stops trying to befriend and starts letting her be, and Caleb had been right – once he gives her the space to get to know him on her own terms, Gretchen finally, finally begins to thaw.

The first day she approaches him after her fish treat and lets him tentatively reach down to scratch her ears, Essek feels as though he’d been rewarded with a monumental gift. He meets Caleb’s gaze – and Caleb smiles sappily at him, as though all he’d ever wanted for his life was Essek and a cat, in this little house, with everyone getting along.

“You see?” Essek says to Gretchen. “I am not so bad.”

She turns around to show him her butthole and trots away with her tail held high. Essek laughs. “Perhaps we still have some ways to go.”

Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It takes time,” he says sagely, and Essek can do nothing more than laugh exasperatedly and press a kiss to his cheek.

[hernakedmuse]

Eddie Munson x Horror!Bimbo Reader Headcanons Part Dos 🦇 🗡 💗

She loves dolls, like Barbie dolls. She has so many of them, she calls them all Marie Antoinette, and has each one in the case holding their own head.

Sometimes she wears Eddie's band shirts as a dress (he's a guy and it's the 80s so his shirts and jackets are oversized because let's face it our little coffin cutie isn't gonna be Nancy's size. Nothing wrong with her size because Nancy is hot and perfect her body is perfect but the group needs other perfect bodies.) And when she bends over he can see her thong because our neighborhood gore whore ain't the type to wear shorts underneath and protect her virtue.

Eddie. Goes. Feral!

He makes up any excuse to rub against her or touch her back.

Their friendship is already at the place where she sits in his lap. And at lunch it takes everything he has as she has her cunt that is only protected by a thin thong that presses between her slit, that is pressing against the crotch of his denim and wetting it. It takes every thing he has not to unzip and slip it in. Because that would not be friendship anymore...no...

He nearly cums in his pants again when she stands up when lunch ends to see her face flush.

Horror!Bimbo makes Eddie's lunch for school everyday. She makes him club sandwiches, double decker sandwiches, soups in a thermos, meatloaf sandwiches, she goes all out and his friends always weep with envy as they eat pb&js and baloney sandwiches.

She also goes over to the trailer often to make dinner. Excited constantly about trying new recipes, using her allowance money to buy the ingredients for her recipes. But Eddie doesn't allow that to go far, he always puts money in her pocket literally, has to force her to take it, doing more deals to make more money for her. Eventually she stops putting up a fight and takes the money because Eddie gets a 'do what I tell you or else' look in his eye.

She does his laundry and when she's over tidies his room up a bit and brings over fresh sheets from her place.

When horror!bimbo finds his playboy and penthouse stash she asks him if she would be pretty enough to pose for these magazines because she has always wanted to. "You're way sexier than Kim Morris bunny, but there is no way I'd ever let the world see that. "

Eddie would always drop casual dominance with her, and it always made you a fuzzy brained wet mess. Like whenever they walked through the hallways together and he'd gently guide her with a hand on her lower back. Or when they cross the street and he will hold his arm out in front of her until they could cross because one time she almost got hit in the parking lot. Or when he always has her sit either next to him or in his lap. There's also him always making sure she eats, asking "what did you have for breakfast?" "Did you remember to pack lunch?" "Sit, eat, you won't wait to serve us to eat your dinner." He even packs snacks for she so you can munch throughout the day. He nearly lost his shit when there was a time our coffin bimbo was starting a diet, only ensures and slimfast. "You're on some good shit if you think I'm allowing you to starve yourself and ruin your perfect body bunny, not on my goddamn life, you must be certified crazy if you think I would allow that!"

He makes her feel cherished and taken care of.

And when they go to a drive in movie or Benny's or anywhere he never lets her pay, and when she runs through her allowance quickly, he gives her more money.

She knows he's been working more to take care of her, so bimbo!reader will run him nice hot bubble baths because her Eddie works so hard for her.

She honestly loves being at her best friend Eddie's more than at home. Even added some touches to his room, like her stuffies, her favorite horror novels, her clothes, her soap, her skin care, hair stuff, perfume, just slowly nesting. Even brings Pyewacket and Socky (Socrates) over to be watched by Wayne during the day since he works at night. Pyewacket actually LIKES Wayne, maybe because he feeds him those Vienna sausages...

And when poor Chrissy Cunningham doesn't see it coming when reader notices her getting close to HER Eddie, and surprises Chrissy with spiders in her cheer locker..