#so i spent the whole time watching the movie and trying to draw at the same time . it was hard

[cucuxumusu]

For @graytodd. Thanks a lot for your amazing dickjay art. I tried writing them as you draw them: cute and horny. Hope you like it.

Dick knew his little wing was touch starved. It was in the way he flinched whenever Bruce patted his back, or how he looked surprised whenever Alfred lay a hand on his shoulder. Jason was always glaring afterwards, acting annoyed and caged as if the touches only hurt him more instead of helping, or as if he never saw the goal for them.

The only exception to that rule was Dick.

Dick had noticed that Jason leaned into his touches whenever he patted him or ruffled his hair, he had noticed him sight in content once they were watching a movie and Jason’s legs pressed into his tight by accident. He didn’t seem to have a problem with him, just with the adults in the house touching him. The implications were worrying. It made Dick possessive and protective of the little boy even more than he already was, and so he took it upon himself to help Jason and be there where no one else was.

Dick called them ‘cuddling sessions’. Every afternoon when Jason returned from school Dick would spend time with him doing homework, both of them sitting next to each other, talking and touching all the time. It was him the one who spent time bandaging Jason slowly after training sessions, letting his hands linger for longer, and encouraging the other boy to touch him as well. But as the weeks passed and Jason’s initial reluctance faded, the sessions became a little bolder. Jason would appear in his room at night and ask to sleep together, he would initiate a hug, fall asleep on him, and just try to be as close to him as he could.

It was cute and adorable, and surprisingly it helped Jason as much as it helped Dick. He felt himself more centred, more relaxed as if he too had been touch-starved. That’s why, when Jason was killed, the blow felt even bigger for Dick than it should have been. There was suddenly an absence by his side, a lack of warmth while he slept, and no one hugging him back when he returned from a mission and had to face his wing’s empty room.

That was the hardest time in Dick’s life.

But then Jason came back. He looked and felt different from the little boy he remembered curling next to him in bed. He looked older, bigger, hotter, but so angry at the world that Dick could even feel it in his skin when he faced him. But it was still Jason, his little wing, the little boy he tried to help, and the one that he had hugged more times than he could count. He was back, and suddenly, life felt right once more. As months passed and the boy was accepted back into the family, things seemed to return to how they had always been and how they should have been.

The night Dick caught Jason sneaking into his apartment and getting into his bed as if years hadn’t passed, he said nothing. He just hugged him back and felt his whole world realign by how right this all seemed. He caressed Jason’s back learning the new shape of his body and how it matched so perfectly with his, and the new muscles and scars he carried. He kissed his brows and his forehead now covered with white bangs, and hugged him tighter than he had ever hugged anyone.

And Jason answered to him like he had always done, as if nothing had happened, as if his disappearance from Dicks life hadn’t shattered Dicks world.

He melted against his chest, sighed in pure bliss as Dick’s nails raked over his nape, and arched into Dick's touches with an almost sexual undertone. Jason buried his head in his throat as if he had just been dying to do so for months, he gripped Dick’s body back with the same desperation, and said nothing as Dick caressed him with affection.

The moment felt cathartic for both of them.

But it was also different than the others, more intense as if the separation had only aggravated the feelings between them. Back then Jason had been a child, a boy seeking warmth and love, now however both of them were fully grown adults, and the touch had stopped looking as innocent as they had once been.

Dick gripped the soft hair in Jason’s nape, a gesture that screamed dominance, and Jason’s body seemed to go motionless. The hands he had on Dick's shirt clenched, his breath catching, and his belly tightening as his eyes grew wide. Desire suddenly poured from both of them as they stared at each other, and both of them waited in silence to cross that last barrier, to turn this into something different. Something, Dick realized, that he had been wanting to do since his little wing had come back.

But not tonight, Dick decided, not when his little wing had finally returned home and was again in his arms.

Changing his grip again, he pushed Jason on his back on the bed and climbed on top of him trapping him with his body and not letting him go anywhere. He kissed his brow one last time, a hand still holding his neck reassuringly, another drawing little patterns over his shoulder, and their bodies glued together. He could feel Jason’s desire under him, he knew Jason could feel his, but none of them acted on it, tonight was different, tonight they would just fall asleep together as they had done so many years ago.

[prisonhannibal]

Do you remember what you were doing when you were fifteen? I remember. When I was fifteen I used to love comic books and drawing and spent a lot of time wondering about what I wanted to be when I grew up and what school to go to. I loved spending time with my friends and going to the library. The genocide has taken all of that from the children of gaza. One day you’re hanging out with friends and doing homework and studying for your future, and the next day all of your books are buried under the remains of your house, your school, your home.

Ibrahim (@ibrahim-family) is only fifteen years old. He has lost access to education, his home, and his safety, and now he has to spend his time trying to fundraise for his family’s safety.

€4,840 out of €10,000 goal

He lives in Gaza with his family, and only a few days ago a bomb near him injured one of his relatives and martyred two others. Every day in Gaza is dangerous, every hour could be the last. No child should have to go through this. Children should be safe enough to worry about exams, not whether or not they’ll wake up to news of more loss. Think of yourself at fifteen, now think of everything you’ve experienced and done since then. Every achievement, every class, the birth of younger cousins, birthdays, weddings. even the small things, like a good meal you’ve had or a movie you watched. that’s what’s being taken from every child martyred in gaza. their whole future, everything they should get the chance to experience and do.

When I asked Ibrahim if there’s anything he wants me to tell everyone in this post, he said that he is very very sad and scared and that he has just lost relatives. Ibrahim has expressed to me more than once that when he goes to bed he’s afraid he won’t wake up in the morning. Even after losing his relatives, he doesn’t have time to grieve in peace, because he’s always in danger himself. It’s not safe for him or his family in Gaza.

Please help Ibrahim and his family be safe. I’m very worried about Ibrahim, because donations have been slow. My heart breaks for him every time he tells me he’s scared. He is so young and has so much life in front of him, he deserves safety. I ask you if you have anything to give, please help bring Ibrahim and his family to safety so that he can rest and recover and go back to school to follow his dreams.

thank you for reading, if you can’t donate please share this post so it may reach people who can ❤️

this fundraiser is vetted by @gazavetters, number 25 on the spreadsheet

@90-ghost @tamamita @dirhwangdaseul @butchniqabi @vampiricvenus @heritageposts @neechees @furiousfinnstan @khanger @autisticmudkip @appsa @strangeauthor @akajustmerry @spaceboytoi @dlxxv-vetted-donations @ibtisams @feluka @toesuckingoctober @sawasawako @fluoresensitive @anneemay

[eddiernunson]

Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves... difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie's general appearance, unprotected piv, against the wall fucking, deep throating, daddy kink

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when | wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie's energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

Thanks for the hype on the preview! Hopefully this lives up to the hype

Thanks so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie ❤️

As the night swallows you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car as she drives you to the ER. While roughhousing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by, you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask you to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information, gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sitting in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain after each bout. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called as you look at memes and watch videos with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick to someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally into the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Something about him is just so enticing, drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage station, wandering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and grey tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

You spend the next few minutes convincing yourself that it was all in your head, and that for all he knew you were zoned out and happened to be zoned out on him. It feels like a reach, especially with his torso as revealed as it was.

Time itself blurs as you zone out on your phone, attempting to distract yourself from your thumping heart and the arousal that pools into your cotton underwear. A shift in movement catches your eye, blurred and black in your periphery.

Your eyes by reflex glance up, catching a glimpse of him slouching in his chair, a foot resting on the other as knee he uses wired headphones and stares at whatever’s on his phone. Somehow, his confidence at making himself at home is still attractive, drool gathering in your mouth.

You look down at your phone before he catches you again, this visit at the ER sending a thrill through you that you didn’t expect in the least.

More and more people get called to the back, and you're still stuck waiting. Everyone who you’ve told is surprised to say the least that it’s been hours and you’re still just in the waiting room. You don’t mind though, sneaking glances at the beautiful stranger has become your favourite pastime.

Four hours in, if someone asked your highlight it would be when he head-banged to whatever assumingly heavy metal band he listens to. By the time the nurse calls your name to the back, it takes a strong second place.

About twenty minutes pass before it’s your turn for a bed, and you are let your eyes wander around, now bored of your phone. As they do, they catch sight of the man you’ve kept an eye on yawning in a big stretch. What this yawn has you so captivated by is the sliver of skin his stretch reveals, and the curly brown treasure trail that peeks from just above the hem of his low sitting jeans.

Your mouth floods with saliva. With your mouth agape and eyes subtly widened, you can’t help but gawk at him. Something about the way you suddenly picture yourself pulling him into the bathroom to nuzzle into his hair takes you aback just a little bit.

Time slows down for you, stretching into hours, but it's only seconds. Finally, as his body relaxes from the stretch you turn your eyes back to his face, hoping he didn’t see your fleeting glance. Startlingly, his eyes are already on yours. This time you can’t find it in you to look away in embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he smirks right at you, and you swear his brown eyes darken a shade.

This time for sure, he caught you. He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, arms crossing over his chest as he keeps his smug expression right on you.

It’s hard to resist the smile as you go back to your phone, promising to yourself that you will remember his face for as long as you can.

-

Eddie thanks Gareth for dropping him off at the hospital, gritting his teeth at the slight pain stretching his torso gives him.

As he wanders into the hospital, his eyes take in the crowded waiting room and he groans, wishing the wound wasn’t so fucking deep.

He got stabbed. He got fucking stabbed. Wayne is going to kill him when he finds out he got into a fight, especially one where knives were in the crossfire. He couldn’t even say how the situation got so heated so quickly, just another fight in a parking lot after a deal goes sour.

The guy pulled a fucking knife on him, pushed it into his torso and ran off with the goods before Eddie could even realize he had been harmed.

All for fucking weed. Wasn’t even cocaine!

It takes a stupid amount of time for him to finally get to the nurse. She tells him to sit down for his vitals, and he refuses, wanting to show the wound and get it out of the way.

He lifts his shirt at her request, showing the darkened gauze and hissing as she takes a closer look at the wound when it’s removed. Eddie realizes the irony of exposing his chest in the triage, looking up to face the windows that allow other patients to see through.

He does a quick scan of the room, no one having seemed to notice how he’s shirtless. No one, but you. He saw you when he walked in, you were on your phone with one earbud in as you tapped your feet to whatever beat you were listening to. He thought you were cute, his mouth twitching in a smile as he notices you’re cradling one arm across your chest.

It couldn’t have been confused with zoning out, your mouth in a small O shape you openly stare at him. The look you have on your face is enough to turn Eddie on a little, having the urge to caress your face as you look up at him with those same wide eyes. His mouth twitches as he thinks of it, the thought enough to distract him from the shooting pain in his chest.

Your eyes dart away as soon as it registers that he’s looking back at you. His smile widens even more as you sink in your seat, your eyes glazing over as you scroll through your phone. Made him want to embarrass you more, in much worse ways.

After the nurse takes his vitals, he’s instructed to sit down, thanking some deity that the seat across from you is freed. You’re keeping yourself distracted, much to his dismay, so kicks his shoe to grab your attention, placing it on his other knee.

It works as well as he hopes, your eyes flickering up to him. He can’t help but look as if he can’t be bothered. In the corner of his eye, you look back to your own phone, biting your lip.

Eddie spends the next little bit getting your attention however he can, wondering how much it takes for your eyes to wander back to him. By trial and error, not much. He turns on a heavy metal band, nodding his head enthusiastically to the loud drum beats.

As time goes on, he gets more bored and waits impatiently for his name to be called. He figured stitches would be a priority, no? It’s past his bedtime, he decides, as he yawns a big stretch, despite the pain he causes for himself.

As he does, he catches the way your eyes are glued to him, particularly the strip of skin his shirt lifts to show. In real time, Eddie witnesses your eyes glaze over and how your teeth nervously graze your bottom lip. Whatever was on your mind, he desperately wanted to know, mesmerized at the way your throat swallows.

Finally, you make eye contact with him, and Eddie needs to let you know how much he just saw, your lust for him clear as day. He can’t lie, the feeling is entirely mutual, the look on your face is something he wants to see over and over as he rails— he’s getting ahead of himself.

Instead, he opts for a smirk, admiring the way your pretty eyes hold his gaze this time. He relaxes back into his chair, daring you to say something as he smiles with a hint of satisfaction…and all the cockiness his body can handle.

You shyly look back at your phone, failing to hide the smile that invades your face. It takes Eddie a moment to gain the courage, but he finally decides he can’t let you go if he's nursing a hard on in the fucking waiting room from your gaze alone.

By the time he finds a pen and paper to give your number, he’s writing it down when the nurse calls your name.

Eddie sighs, watching your ass in those jeans as you walk away. Just his luck.

-

As the new year passes, the memory of the hot stranger in the waiting room fades, much to your dismay.

The very night you had a dream where he meets you in some sort of dark room, tugging down your jeans you were wearing and wrapping those hands around your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Your hyperventilating mixed with the way your cunt spasmed as you came woke you up, taking a minute to catch your breath. That morning you groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more but to track him down.

Days passed and soon you’re in the grocery store, arm still wrapped for another week as you walk around the store for some basics. Milk, eggs, bread, all on your mother’s tab, of course. You were two seconds away from pushing your small cart to the checkout counter when you remember you're out of mouthwash.

As you try to decide whether to grab the one you liked which was not on sale or the one that was, a set of footsteps pass and settle right next to you, the customer also assessing mouth hygiene products.

The person's foot tapped, and by reflex you switch your glance down to the sound, and immediately recognize the boots. Your head moves up so fast you swear you give yourself whiplash to his face, facing the shaggy locks you found yourself obsessed with that night in the ER.

“Oh shit” you say out loud, before you could even stop it.

His eyes flicker to yours and recognize you off the bat. His smile gives way to deep dimples. He’s exactly as hot as you remember, if not more.

Of course, you can’t find it in yourself to assume he recognizes you, even if his eyes spell it out for you. “Sorry, I-I just remember you from the ER last month. How’s that stab wound?”

He chuckles, something that makes your legs clench together. “Uh, it’s better.” He comments, lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Is it unnecessary for Eddie to show his stitches? Absolutely. Did he do it for the visual reaction he missed so much? Also, yes.

Unfortunately, his bare waist is gone as soon as it appears, barely giving you a second to take in the purple stitches. You bite your lip as you glance at his face, his smirk displayed almost driving a whimper out of you.

“How’s your arm?”

“What?” You ask, incredibly distracted by the everything about him.

He chuckles pointing to the wrapped arm you can’t use as you shopped but to push the cart. “Oh, one more week then I’m free.” You comment, indicating the gauze.

“That’s good.” He comments, switching his glance back to the toothbrushes he was glancing at earlier.

How are you already messing this up? Might as well cut your losses. “Alright, nice seeing you, again.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He says, grabbing at your uninjured arm before you make your hasty exit. Your eyes peer at him curiously, wondering what he could’ve possibly wanted. “Here,”

His hands move to the leather jacket and grab a folded piece of paper to hand out to you. “What’s that?”

“My number” he answers, stating the obvious. “Shoot me a text, call me, I don’t care. Just do it. Please.”

“You’re really giving your number on a piece of paper?” You ask, tilting your head and forgetting your nervousness for two seconds. “What is this, 1986?”

He laughs, deep and whole, and for some reason it causes a heart palpitation. “Yeah, I guess I am. I planned on giving it to you at the ER, but the nurse whisked you away before I could.”

“Huh?” You ask, your brain short circuiting.

He laughs again as you accept the number, your hands holding onto it tightly as if it might disappear. He picks a toothbrush, seemingly at random and examines it, shrugging as he tosses it into his basket. “Call me,” he says, winking, and walks away from where he came from.

As he walks away, his cologne invades your senses, breath stuttering as you breathe him in. Oh, you are definitely calling him.

As soon as you’re checked out, you find yourself having to use the bathroom, so you wander to the back of the store and down the hall where the single unisex bathroom is.

It’s locked, so you check your phone as you wait, leg shaking to distract yourself from the need. When the bathroom door opens, you look up to face the patron and your brain deflates.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, facing the kind stranger, whose name you learned is Eddie from the number he gave you. You stare at one another, taking each other in, your breath heavy and your heartbeat in your ears. Why were you here, again?

Instantaneously, his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your winter jacket, tugging you forward as he places his lips on yours. Your bags drop from your hands as you gasp in surprise, your brain taking a moment to catch up.

As soon as it does, you grab onto his jacket and kiss him back, meeting his enthusiasm feverishly. His tongue darts out to meet yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, taking in how weak his lips alone make you feel.

Eddie starts to pull you backwards and into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you’re pushed up against the wall, whimpering as he moves his body against you. “Fuck.” He whispers against your lips, taking a moment to catch his breath.

You hum in response, lips reaching for him again. As you do, your hands sneak past his jacket and onto his t-shirt, clutching at the fabric as you finally feel up his torso.

“Nuh uh.” He tsks, pulling back from you. When you pout, he laughs and gives you a look of pity. “I just gotta know one thing, there, sweetheart.”

“Anything.” You promise, not knowing what you’re getting into. You just wanted his lips back on yours.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, slightly taunting you. “Okay.” He leans down, breathing down your neck as he places his lips by your ear. “What were you thinking about in that waiting room while you ogled me, sweetheart?”

Okay, not that. You sigh in embarrassment, learning he knew exactly what you were thinking while you gawked at his chest, gawked at him.

“Don’t act all embarrassed, now.” He chides, observing how your eyes widen just how he remembered. “Tell me. Tell me and we’ll do every raunchy little thing that pretty brain came up with.” He taps the tip of your nose gently with the pad of his finger. You wish he'd shove it past your lips.

Your eyes widen as the arousal floods the panties you wear. All you can do is breathe hard and attempt to find the words.

“Let me help you.” He says, shifting his weight against you slightly. “Was it my hands down those tight ass jeans you were wearing?” You gasp as his fingers barely graze your jeans’ waistband. “Or even better was my tongue on that wet cunt of yours?” You shake your head no, as much as you wanted both of those things. You didn’t even get that far. “Were you on your pretty knees?” Finally, you nod, confirming exactly what you were thinking about.

“Your cock was down my throat while I nuzzled your…” you trail off, lifting his shirt to see the patch of hair again, “oh my god.”

He chuckles, rewarding you with a wet and dirty kiss. All too soon, he pulls away. “Then what, baby?”

Your mind is dumb, trying to come up with it. “Then…then you bent me over and fucked me—” you whine as his knee bucks up between your legs and makes harsh contact with your cunt, “with your hand around my throat.”

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, teeth gritted as he gives you a look at screams with lust. “Believe me, if you asked, I would’ve.”

“Yeah?” You ask, licking your lips as your head leans back into the door. “What about your cut?”

“To hell with my cut! I had a pretty girl practically giving me the eyes, you think I care about some little scratch?”

You stare at him in disbelief, your body and breaths stilling for a minute. “Then do it.”

Eddie smirks at you, and you stare at his pretty pink lips as he leans in and kisses you, both impossibly dirty and sweet simultaneously. Eddie’s knee contacts your cunt again, this time forcing a moan out your lips. Blindly you move your hand down his chest, finally gripping the hard-on straining against the fabric of his jeans.

He gives you his first moan, a sound that opens the floodgates. “Wanna get on those knees for me, baby?”

You nod, giving one last kiss to the spot where his jaw meets his neck. Slowly, you kiss your way down his body where finally you find yourself face to face with the cock that’s pushing its way out of his pants. You fumble with the button for a second before you finally reveal him, and it’s so much better than you could’ve imagined.

So much bigger, too.

You smile up at him through your eyelashes, grateful for fates allowing you in the same place at the same time. He places his hand under your chin, licking his lips as he examines your expression of desire. “Suck my cock, baby.”

You eye his treasure trail, dipping your nose into it as you inhale his musk, uninjured hand wrapping around his thick girth. You mewl at the scent; the aroma is even better than you had imagined. One of his large hands slides itself gently along your cheek, his long thumb stroking at the apple of your sweet smile. You stare up at him, kissing the underside of the head of his cock with wet lips. Your tongue pokes out, flat as you lick it slowly, taking your sweet time, admiring the way he lets out whimpers.

“Oh…shit.”

This urges you to wrap your lips around the head, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on it gently. You take your lips off him, spitting the excess saliva in your mouth onto his shaft, your hand slowly moves up and down, jerking his length to spread the slick along his cock. The shine is pretty, the spit accentuating the pink blush.

“Pretty cock,” you compliment him, laughing breathily as you go cross-eyed just staring at it. “Tastes better than I thought it would.”

“Did you think about tasting my cock, sweet girl?”

You wrap your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down as you confirm what he asked with a simple hum. He’s big, the tip hitting the back of your mouth and that wasn’t even half of it. You choke on him, the guttural sounds echoing loudly against the tiled walls. A want of more of him in your mouth invades your mind, not tasting nearly enough of him.

You attempt to take in more of him, choking on it even more but struggling to, despite the desperate need. “Settle down, sweet girl,” he mutters, harshly brushing his fingers against your cheek as he peers down at you. “Relax your throat. Take all those tense muscles and relax ‘em.” You think about it, letting those reflexes remain tense to rest. You’re holding back more saliva, but you fail to realize it until your mouth is flooded with spit, overflowing past the barrier of your lips. “Oh, good girl.”

It's alien but mind numbingly arousing as you feel him move down your throat, moaning around him. His fingers comb through your hair, and roughly move against your scalp. “That’s it, breathe through your nose, sweets.”

The heel of his palms rest on your forehead, moving you up and down his cock. You find it stupidly easy to submit to him, the tip hitting roughly against the back of your throat. His groans are louder than the guck, guck, guck that are hitting wall to wall against the tiles. He’s brutal about it, increasing his speed from 0 to 100 quick as a thought.

Hot tears spill over your water line down your cheeks, trailing the makeup you wear down to your throat. Your hands weave themselves against the cotton of his t-shirt, fighting to keep letting him fuck your throat. “You’re so damn good at this, sweetheart, pretty little mouth working so well.”

He finally lets go, poking his cock against the inside of your cheek one last time, appreciating the swell as the glistening from your tears shine on your face. He uses his thumb to lift your chin up to him, his darkened eyes raking over your face. His pink lips parted, his dilated pupils, the heaving of his chest, there’s nothing you’d want more than to earn this gaze again. “C’mere.”

He lifts you by your chin up to kiss you, dirtily lacing his tongue against yours. “What a good girl you are, taking it so well.” A smile lights up your face from his praise. He tugs you back in for another one, a hum vibrating against his lips. A hand of his trails down your body, single handedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Good work like that deserves a reward, hmm?”

His large hand moves past the opened fly and works itself against your panties. A gasp escapes your mouth only at the touch of his fingers on your covered folds, mewling as he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He’s not even really moving them against you, but just his touch gives you some of the pressure you needed. “Christ, you’re wet,” he comments, dipping his head to work his tongue against your pulse. “Choking on my cock really got you off, huh?”

You nod, eagerly agreeing with him. “So big.”

He smirks, pressing pressure on your clothed folds, in small circles. “You like my big cock, huh? Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Bigger,” you gasp, hands grabbing on any clothes he wears anxiously.

His finger easily moves the fabric aside, finger attaching itself right to your clit. The pleasure is good, eyes fluttering closed as it grows startlingly fast. “Fuck,” you swear, your voice rough. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, close?” You nod, despite the embarrassment that floods your senses. “I haven’t even started to touch you yet, baby. I still wanted to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my fingers.”

His actions mimic his words, inserting two fingers hastily into you, moving them expertly as they fuck you. With how wet you are, his two digits slide in easily. They’re long, reaching a depth in you that you could only dream about. You gush around him, music to his ears as your whimpers grow more and more pathetic. His thumb touches your clit again, rubbing frantically.

You gasp, mewling as his teeth start to nibble skillfully along the length of your neck. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue licks a sinfully long stripe up your neck to your ear, his voice intense and husky. “Cum all over my fingers, sweetheart, make a fucking mess for me.” Your hand tangles into his hair, gripping at his root. You stutter through a sentence of whines and half-finished words, failing to convey how good his fucking fingers make you feel. “So pathetic, huh?”

The words that you wanted to say were, you make me feel so good. Instead, you say, “M-ak-m, so-so good.”

Your good arm wraps itself around his shoulders, pulling his body against yours. Against your better judgment, your other hand moves his chin so your lips kiss his desperately, wanting every wet touch of them on yours. Your whimper into his mouth, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you finally cum, drenching his fingers just as he had requested.

“There she is,” he mutters, his flat palm moving under your jacket and shirt and grazing gently along your bare torso.

It takes you a second to recover from it, still feeling the effects of it throughout your body as it lingers. You unzip your jacket, letting it fall on the bathroom floor. You can’t find it in yourself to care for the moment, but it will find itself in the wash later. As it’s a walk-in bathroom, there are poles next and adjacent to the toilet. Perfect.

“Fuck me?” You ask, eyes glazed over as they reach his.

He chuckles, hands landing on your hips. Your jeans are pushed down your legs, resting just below your knees. “I thought you'd never ask, sweets.”

You grin, pushing his jacket off his shoulders onto the floor. Before it even hits the floor, you grab onto the fabric of his shirt and step backward over your own jacket to pull him across the room to the said metal bar installed on the wall.

His fingers slink into his pocket that’s now down his leg, holding a condom between you and him. You pick it up from his fingers and fling it across the room. “I’m on birth control.”

Eddie’s hands grab under your legs when your back hits the wall, supporting you surprisingly well as your ass rests on his forearms.

He sighs, eyes half mooned as he stares down at you. “My arms are occupied, mind helping me out here?”

You giggle, spitting on your hand and grabbing between the two of you at the cock that keeps brushing against your inner thigh, moving it against your entrance. It slides in easily, the mushroom tip pushing in as two of you moan in sync. Your hand moves to the bar on the wall, starting to help him as you lean some of your weight onto it.

“How is your pussy even better than I thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, gasping in uneven breaths.

“So, so full,” you gasp back, his size far bigger than you’ve ever had. ���So big.”

“You’re fucking tight, sweets.” He mutters, jaw dropping as he watches you watching him.

“Move.” You urge him, the stretch too much yet his still hips are driving you crazy. “Need you to move,” It comes out as a pathetic whine and you know it, but you’re long past caring at this point.

“Say no more,” Eddie mutters, starting to move slowly, his hips rolling perfectly against you.

He hits deep and he hits hard. “Just like that! Fuck!”

“Your pussy, fuck, baby, yours is just a new fucking standard!”

You curl into his neck, nipping and starting to mark the pale skin with purple, teeth digging in harder the faster and harder he fucks. You can’t answer his compliment, but the way you tighten around him is confirmation enough that you are in complete agreement with him. It’s like he knows exactly how you like it before you tell him, intuitively knowing you before even has the opportunity to find out.

He watches every reaction you give him carefully, how your legs tighten around his waist, your hands twisting themselves in his shirt, the mewls that leave your mouth mixed with words that you never finish, he takes every hint as gospel. He’s always intuitive to what a partner of his needs, but you’re a special case, every reaction you give him only makes him insatiable for more. The way your eyes roll back in your head is everything he’s ever wanted to see from you and more, never could he have imagined anything like this when you glanced at him in the E.R.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum, sweets,” Eddie moans, fingers digging into your bare thigh, the pressure surely bruising the skin.

“Choke me.” You gasp, voice desperate for him.

“Hands are occupied, babe.” He answers, gruff and brows furrowed.

You tap the bar, using both hands now. “I got it.”

He whines, high-pitched and gorgeous. The kind of whine you listen to on men whimpering audios. Maybe you can make it happen more. Maybe one day he’ll let you worship him for a few hours…the idea is enticing. His large hand wraps itself around your throat, the metal of his rings causing harsh friction on your neck. He admires the way you revel in it, tongue poking out of your mouth like the slut you are for him. “You’re more of a slut than I thought you are, hmm?”

You nod, his strong arm flexed and mouth watering. The drool that slips down your tongue is pure proof of it, dampening your shirt in a little streak.

“What a good little pathetic slut,” he grins, rubbing your jawline with his thumb. His grip tightens, only enough to send stars in your vision.

You tap his arm, begging him for air. “A slut for you.” You gasp, whining for him. “Want your cum, please, please cum in me.”

“Can you beg for me one more time?” He asks, your question almost making him erupt on the spot.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, arms starting to lose their strength. “I wanna be dripping from you, so bad.”

“Yeah, want Daddy’s cum?” he asks, hands gripping into your hair.

Of course, this man has a daddy kink, you couldn’t expect anything less from him. “Yes, Daddy.” You whine, grinning at his hold on you. “Fill me up.”

“Baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up—Jesus Christ.” He interrupts himself, cutting himself off as he ruts into you a final, gasping, sweaty time. He twitches in you, feeling him fill you up as some of starts to trickle out of your pussy and down your thigh.

His hand lets go of your hair, wrapping around your torso as he pulls you into an embrace. This is the kind of sex that takes time to recover from, both out of breath, his dick still twitching. A smile takes over your features, invading every muscle in your face.

“So, think you’re gonna call me?” He asks, hand moving itself under your shirt to gently brush against your bare skin.

“I’ll definitely text you.” You answer, chuckling at the annoyed look he shoots you when he pulls back in your embrace. “Oh, come on.”

He chuckles, and for some odd reason the last thing you expect from him is another kiss, his lips working marvelously against yours. They’re much gentler, much sweeter than you expected, yet everything you’d crave from him.

“What was that?” You ask, watching his two gorgeous brown eyes.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you go after that?” He asks, half a smile on his face. “Wanna come to my place later?”

“Later?” You ask, one eyebrow quirked at him.

“I’m heading home right now, wanna join me?” He kisses the top of your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your jawline, your still covered shoulder. “I kind of need to spend a few hours with my nose buried in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Your jaw drops, your mouth drying completely from his admission. “Y-yeah, th-that sounds nice.”

He laughs at your stutter; your pussy having tightened around him upon the mention of it.

Three knocks hit the door, loud and abrupt. “Hurry the fuck up!”

You look at one another with wide eyes, laughing at the disruption. He backs up, his cock leaving your entrance being a loss you whimper at. “Don’t worry, sweets. I will fuck you more than enough times to satisfy that need.”

“Dunno,” you start, legs shaky as you land on them, “I think I’m pretty insatiable at this point.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep going, won’t we?” Eddie asks, pulling his jeans and boxers up his legs.

“And if I’m never satisfied?” you ask, tilting your head as you pull up your own pants.

“Well then I guess we’ll just never stop.”

You grin at his answer, biting your lip excitedly.

The silence is comfortable as you pick your jackets back up and the bags on the ground. His fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the hall past the angry customer and out the front door of the store.

He offers to eventually take you back to your car when you need to go back home, wanting more time with you even if it’s the mere ten minutes that it takes to get to his apartment.

Not one moment is wasted as he yanks you to his bedroom, pushing you onto his bed. As promised, your jeans are yanked down your legs quick as can be, burying his nose deep in your cunt.

Only after the eighth orgasm does Eddie yank off your clothes, followed by his, finally skin against skin as he rails you in every position, even the ones you didn’t know were possible.

You might have to thank your brother for spraining your wrist, it’s the best thing he’s ever done for you.

-

Thanks for reading! I read every comment and tag you leave and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

taglist for Waiting Room Problems: @skrzydlak @delicatechaos @ali-r3n @suckerz @cam-peggio @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @emxxblog @lilrubles @dandelionnfluff @babygirl229 @let-love-bleeds-red @kurdtbean

[galactic-rhea]

WDYM Anakin is Luke and Leia's dad

I dunno if this post will reach the Star Wars fandom but I hope it does because I'm sure you all will get a good laugh at me.

As of recent I have developed a good hiperfixation for Star Wars, the thing is I knew nothing. NOTHING about Star Wars besides the fact it had aliens and...a war...in space? And funny swords. And main character is Luke or something, I spent over 20 years ignoring anything about Star Wars and somehow missing most references out there.

And recently, literally less than a month ago I saw a gif and said to my partner "oh this guy this guy looks cool, this gif looks nice" and he said "Oh well, he's a good character." And it all developed into me watching Clone Wars, the animated series you know and...and I was kinda blown away, on my opinion the show IS GREAT. And I love every character and their interactions, I love how much they focus on side characters, and they all seem very well written. I got hiperfixated really fast and saw Anakin and I was like "Omg, babygirl. He's a blorbo now."

And because of the show, this was super unexpected, but somehow I also got, really got, into the ship with Padmé because omg, cool woman. Literal happy squeaky noises of someone who was in a bad state and needed some good ol' distraction and comfort.

Now, like I said I knew nothing about Star Wars as a whole. And I still haven't watched the movies, besides the ocassional gif?

So imagine my shock, my surprise, my...bewilderment when I realized.

"Wait a minute, LUKE IS ANAKIN'S SON?! HOLY-"

Ladies, gentleman, and others, I think I came very late to this party and I don't even know how it took me so long.

Not only that, but because of this sudden love for the series, I went to my friends circle like "BESTIE, GUESS WHAT, I HAVE A NEW BLROBO AND A NEW FAV SHIP AND EEEP"

And my friends are like "omg that's amazing, what is it?"

I tell them, and of course they all know these characters and they all react like they know this very bad secret fact and I got told several times already "Please, don't watch the episodes 2 and 3 alone, it will hurt."

I feel like blissfully walking among rainbows and blue skies while everyone else know that my future is doomed. Somehow.

(Uncomfortable silence)

Not only that, but then I spent a whole deal of time thinking "Where the heck I have seen these guys" cus there was some fmailiarity I couldn't just point out and then one day I woke up, brushed my teeth and of all sudden I realized and it was such a shock.

Do you know how SURREAL is to get very into a character, and into a ship, and then realize they're the same from that super widespread meme that has been around for who knows how much time?

I swear I thought that meme was from some old medieval fantasy movies or something.

But alas, Star Wars now is EVERYWHERE. People do references to Star Wars ALL THE TIME and it's just now I'm catching them.

I got spoilers. From a meme. In a youtube review that had nothing to do with Star Wars hah. Everything is a spoiler, the world is an apparent spoiler. Now I'm here, trying to avoid spoilers from something everyone seems to know, even my family knows. It's so surreal and I wouldn't have it any other way 😂

Anyways, if you read until here, know that a wild ride still waits me, cuz I'm only starting Season 3 of Clone Wars and I don't plan to watch the movies until I finish the series.

And yes, I made this blog just to ramble freely about SW and draw stuff because it sparked my inspiration after a long art block.

Have this doodle I drew after watching the two first episodes, my offering for you reaching this far.

Note: Wouldn't Anakin and Padmé's ship name be Animé? Cuz that's hilarious.

[munsonsmixtapes]

i dont know if this is already written but could you write reader is chrissy’s bestfriend who likes eddie and chrissy knows about the readers crush and then gets with eddie and the readers is so heart broken but at the end she finally gets eddie thank uu 🤭😇

Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader

cw: hurt/comfort

You find yourself at yet another sleepover at Chrissy’s. It seems like you’ve spent every weekend there, especially during the school year when she can drive the both of you there. Her house has easily become a second home to you and you really enjoy going over there.

Especially considering that she’s your best friend and has been since you could remember. In fact, you don’t really have any memories where Chrissy wasn’t present. Your earliest memory was your third birthday and the two of you were side by side as you both blew out the candles on your cake. You look back on that moment often and even have a photo of it on your desk in your room.

You’re both on Chrissy’s bed giggling at a movie that plays on the TV, both ogling the male lead who just so happens to look like your crush. If you’re being honest, though, that’s the only reason why you’re watching.

You’ve been crushing on Eddie since the moment you saw him. Unlike everyone else, you seem to see him for who exactly he is, even stand up for him when your friends make fun of him. You don’t know why everyone seems to hate him when he’s morning but a sweetheart, at least, from what you’ve seen.

You’ve only been to a few Hellfire sessions but from what you’ve gathered, he’s super sweet and just all around a goofball. So why people keep calling him a freak and think that he’s the devil incarnate you’ll never understand.

He goes out of his way to help you when you’re lost and it warms your heart every time, making you fall for him even harder. You know it seems silly, but you can't help it. You see the real him, the dside he's aafraid to show to just anyone and that makes you feel special, like you're actually apart of his group.

But the thing that hurts the most is that you know how badly he's crushing on Chrissy, because of course he is. Because she's popular, pretty, and sweet. Because it just makes sense that he would crush on one of the most popular girls in school. Because your life is so unfair that that just makes sense.

"He looks kind of like..." she pauses, turning to you. Chrissy knows all about your crush on Eddie and is quick to tease you about it any chance she gets. She doesn't understand why you would like someone like him where there are plenty of fish in the sea. If she's being honest, though, she only does it because that's the only thing she has on you. Because she's envious of you and that's the only was she knows she can get under your skin. She knows it's wrong, especially when you're friends, but she's jealous of you, , she sees you as a threat, so she'll do anything to get you out of her way.

"Does he?" You play dumb but she's not buying it as she gives you a shove while throwing some popcorn that's sitting in the bowl between you two at you.

"That's the whole reason why you wanted to watch this, isnt it?" She asks with a laugh and you feel your cheeks heat as your secret has finally been revealed.

"Maybe," you draw out the word as you throw some popcorn back and she manages to catch it in her mouth.

"Do you really think it's good idea getting close to him? I mean, isn't he a devil worshipper or whatever?" He's not and she knows that. She's just trying to push your buttons, trying to make you see how wrong you are. Because as your friend, she feels like she needs to guide you in the right direction. Because how bad would it look if her best friend was hanging out with the Hellfire club, let alone their leader?

"No," you shake your head furiously. "He's not at all. And you'd know that if you went to any of the sessions with me."

"I'm busy, y/n, and you know that. And it's not like I'd spend my one free night a week with a bunch of losers. Present company included."

Your mouth falls open at the last sentence and you have to turn away so she won’t see the tears forming in your eyes. Anyone else calling you that would be one thing, but your best friend? Well, she might have stabbed you in the back with how betrayed you felt.

You stand from the bed and turn your back to her, wiping your tears from your cheeks before collecting your duffel bag from the floor and putting the strap over your shoulder.

“Oh, c’mon, y/n,” Chrissy rolls her eyes as you turn face her. “You’re not really leaving because of this, are you?”

“I am,” you nod. “You don’t want to hang out with a loser like me anyway,” you mumble, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you move towards the door, but Chrissy stops you when she puts her hand on her shoulder.

"Look," she sighs, turning you around to face her. "I'm just tell it like it is. Ever since you started hanging out with those weirdos, you've changed. You've been dressing differently," she refers to your outfit which consits of your Hellfire shirt you had worn for the session that night. "And you didn't even come to the game tonight. We were one man down for what? So you could go worship the devil? We really needed you, y/n. You're our best flyer."

"I'm sorry, I just-" You're afraid to tell her that it's because you don't like what you've become by hanging out with the popular crowd. You want to surround yourself with good people and you're sure that the hellfire club is filled with just that. You don't care about their reputations nor understand why Chrissy does.

"You're just what y/n?" Chrissy asks, her words sounding like venom and you step back, suddently afraid of her. "You hanging out with them makes me weird by association and do you know what that does for the head cheerleader? It means that those freaks think they can talk to me and that's all your fault. So if you want to continue to be friends with me, you're going to have to cut them off."

You let her words sink in, and tghe more you look at her, the more you don't recognizer her. The person standing in front of you may look like Chrissy, but she's definitely not behaving like her. And suddenly, you're feeling sick as you realize what you have to do. You don't want to, but what other choice do you have?

"You've actually made this so easy for me. Goodbye, Chrissy," you turn on your heel to head towards the door, but she stands in front of it, preventing you from leaving.

"You're not serious," she shakes her head, a humorless passing through her lips. "You're ending fifteen years of friendships for some guy? What the fuck, y/n?"

"Not, not for some guy, Chrissy. I'm doing it for myself because I deserve better. Now if you'll excuse me," you motion for her to move out of the way. You can paractically see the smoke coming out of her ears as you step aside, but that't not your problem anymore.

You open the door and hurry down the stairs as you feel more tears trailing down your cheeks as Chrissy calls after you.

"And don't think you can ever step foot in here again!"

Oh, you won't. You have no reason to.

You get out the front door and slam it closed as you step out onto the porch, realizing that she drove you home, but thankfully, you live just up the street. And because you seem to have really shitty luck, it begins to pour rain. You don't care anymore, though. You just need to get home. So you sprint that way, not sto[[ing undtipping until you get to your front door, -hurrying up to your room, hoping that your parents dont hear you.

As soon as your up the stairs, you hurry to the bathroom and strip your soaked clothes before turning on the shower. Once it’s hot enough, you step in, and as you’re doing all the tasks, you suddenly feel so much lighter even though you’re sobbing.

You’ve been wanting to end your friendship with Chrissy for a while, you just never thought it’d be like this. Because she’s more worried about her own image than she is about you. That’s the part that hurts the most, you think. She knows how happy being a part of hellfire makes you, it’s the first time you’ve actually felt like you belonged. And here she is, asking you to give it up like it’s nothing because it makes her look bad.

She knows that you’ve never liked being a cheerleader. It was just something that the two of you could do together so she forced you to try out with her freshman year. And yeah, maybe you should have told her you weren’t going to be at the game tonight, but you didn’t want to hear it.

After your shower, you cry yourself to sleep, mourning the loss of your friendship, the memories you had made together over the years, the person you thought you knew but clearly didn’t.

You spend the entire weekend in your room ignoring Chrissy’s calls, trying to work on your homework. She thinks it’s just a little fight, that you were being dramatic, but you’re not giving in this time. All ties have been cut and you’re not going to let her suck you back in. This is for the better, you know it.

-

Monday rolls around pretty quickly and all you’re looking forward to is seeing Eddie. You wanted to go over to his trailer after you let Chrissy’s on Friday night, but you didn’t want to bother him. After hellfire, he has talked about going him and planning the next session so you didn’t want to be a distraction.

He spots you by your locker and makes a beeline for you, hurrying to pull his gift for you out of his backpack. You spot him down the hallway and feel your heartbeat quicken as you realize that he's approaching you. He's got on that big grin and you can't help but match it.

"Hey," he greets. "How great was that session the other night?" He's filled with pride and normally, you would have haearts in your eyes, but not today. You haven't even thought about him the entire weekend, Chrissy taking up every square of your brain.

"Really great," you agree with a nod as you take the book you need for first period out of your locker and put it in your backpack. You can tell that he thinks something's off and you want to tell him about Chrissy and what happened over the weekend. You think it'll make you feel better and Eddie's always a great listener.

"You know, you never answered my call last night, is everything-" Eddie's question is cut off by Chrissy resting her hand on his shoulder and right before you can ask what's going on, she turns him to face her and presses a kiss to his lips. You feel bile rising in you throat as you watch them, that pit that's been in your stomach the entire weekend growing larger and larger.

"Hey, baby," she says as she runs her fingers through his hair. And that's when it all clicks for you. They're together. So, what, first she calls him edvery name in the book and now she's kissing him and calling him baby? How much had you missed since Friday?

She then turns to you and puts on a devilish grin, still running her hands through the hair you had fantasized about touching, almost as if she's trying to taunt you. You can tell by the look on her face that she's up to something and you hate that she's using Eddie just to prove a point.

"What's going on?" You ask even though you don't want actually want to hear it and are pretty sure that you already know the answer.

"Oh," she lets out a laugh that sounds condescending, as if she's making fun of you, and she definitely is. Because, after all, you're more often than not the butt of all of Chrissy's jokes. "Didn't Eddie tell you?" She asks, tilting her head to the side as her eyebrows furrow. "He's my boyfriend now."

In that moment, your vision blurs and you're sure that you're either going to pass out or throw up or both. This is all so sick and twisted, even for Chrissy. None of this was making any sense to you and you desperately needed to find out what had happened over the weekend.

Without a word, you grab her by the arm and pull her into one of the emtpy classrooms. You don't know what she's playing at, but you really want to get to the bottom of it. You knew that Eddie had been crushing on her, but Chrissy wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. And that was a direct quote.

You shut the door and left it cracked, giving Eddie the perfet opportunity to eavesdrop. He ws normally a nosy person, but he just had to know what was going on between the two of you.

“This is low, even for you,” you told her and she just rolls her eyes again then leans against one of the tables.

“You’re just mad that I got to him first,” she replies almost as if she’s bored. She’s examining her nails almost as if she thinks this conversation isn’t important to her.

“No,” you glare at her. “I’m mad that you’re using him just to get back at me.”

“You know, not everything is about you, y/n. Maybe I really like Eddie.” You both know the truth and she hates that you’ve clocked it.

“But you don’t. This is just your sick form of revenge for me ending our friendship. I wonder what Eddie would say if he found out the real reason why you’re dating him.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at the revelation. He knew something was up with the whole thing, but he just didn’t know what. Now he had proof of what Chrissy had done. God, he felt so fucking stupid. He actually thought that she had liked him but apparently he had been wrong.

Before he could stop himself, he was bursting through the door. Anger was bubbling up inside him and he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do, but he had to say something.

“What?” He spits and the girls turn towards him, their eyes widening as they step away from each other.

“Eddie-“ Chrissy tries to say, but Eddie holds his hands up, cutting her off.

“I can’t believe-“ he lets out a deep breath. “I can’t believe I actually fell for that bullshit.”

“What bullshit? Eddie, I love you.”

“No you don’t. Because when you love someone, you don’t use their feelings for you as a way to get back at someone. Whatever we had is over now.” You can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears and he turns to you, his face softening.

He can see tears welling in your eyes when you look at him and his heart breaks for you. He doesn’t care about how he feels anymore. Being used is one thing, but being used to hurt the girl he likes is another.

He had liked Chrissy from the beginning, but then you came along. And you were sweet and smart and kind and you treated him like he was a normal person, not some freak. He really liked you, but Chrissy had convinced him that you liked someone else. But why would you have cared so much if you had? You like him too, don’t you?

He watches you flee the room in a blur and without another thought, he follows behind you, ignoring Chrissy calling behind him. He chases after you, hurrying down the school hallway as you make your way to the parking lot.

“Y/n!” He calls after you. He’s not going to let you get away until he tells you exactly how he feels. “Y/n!”

You ignore him and head to your car, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks. He comes up behind you as you use your key to unlock the driver’s seat door and you can’t get yourself to turn around.

“Can you please look at me?” He asks, the words sounding so pathetic, so desperate, and you feel your heart clench as you hear them.

Without a word, you turn around and Eddie’s quick to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb. And then by your surprise, he presses his lips to yours as his hands move up to cup your cheeks.

You’re quick to respond, your lips moving with his as your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer to you.

“It’s you,” he mumbles against your lips. “It’s always been you.”

“It’s always been you too.”

You stay like that for a while, everything else completely irrelevant except for each other. You just want to be wrapped up in him forever, totally unaware that he had felt the same way until now. And there was absolutely no way you were letting him go.

[scarletlizzard]

thinking abt older sisters bsf! nat 🤭

your sister being wanda, and nat is obviously her best friend. wanda is always protective with you but since you both grew up with nat she could easily slip through the gaps.

her and wanda would always come home as a pair when they did, you chose to live with your parents while you attendees a smaller local college.

the first time natasha fucked you she snuck off away from wanda while she was sleeping, she’d find you still awake probably studying. she begged you to stop for a bit and come hangout with her.

you two would be cuddled up in your bed watching something, her hand would slowly roam your body.

you’d share a small kiss that would lead to her fucking you into your mattress. 🤭🤭🤭

every time wanda and your parents would go out to do something, natasha would make up some excuse not to go and she’d stay and fuck you the whole time they were gone.

ugh i love this so much 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Oh okay so this is what we're rocking with today? Cause yeah anon, you've hooked me!! 😌😳

A few thoughts on that if I may ✍️

The first time she snuck in your room, she convinced you to watch a movie with her. It started out innocently at first. After all, this was something you would regularly do, but usually not with just the two of you. As you watched the screen, her hand rested on your thigh, caressing the skin. It would inch up closer, painfully slow, and you couldn't deny the ache in your lower stomach building. Your thighs pressed together tightly.

"What's the matter sweetheart?"

With a smirk on her lips, forcing you to tell her how bad you needed her. How you wanted her to make you feel good. She kissed you softly at first, savoring the way your lips tasted, wanting to relish the feeling of your first kiss. Natasha would waste no time after that, knowing at any moment the two of you could be caught.

"You're taking me so well, fuck, this pussy was made for me."

"Shh, sweetheart, you have to be quiet. Don't want to wake anybody up, do you?"

"I know you love it.. the idea that someone could walk in right now and see you being fucked like a slut."

"That's it, baby, that's it. Give me everything. Shh, just one more, one more time."

The two of you spent the night tangled in your sheets, Natasha drawing out orgasm after orgasm from you. She left you a whining, whimpering mess, to the point you couldn't even speak.

She cuddled you until you fell asleep, but when you awoke, she was gone. You went slowly down the stairs, seeing your sister and her best friend eating breakfast at the table. You sat next to Wanda, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

After that night, she spent every minute she could in your presence, coming up with every excuse she could think of to stay home with you. The second the car rolled out of the driveway, she would be on top of you, her hands slipping into your panties wherever you were. She would fuck you for as long as she could whether it be ten minutes or two hours.

One evening, she had you on the couch, enjoying the squirming mess that you were underneath her. Your moans filled the room, along with the sinful sounds of her fucking you.

"That's it pretty girl, just like that. Let me hear those pretty moans."

Because any time you were alone, she wanted to hear those broken cries of pleasure, your name leaving your soft pink lips. But as you moaned her name, the familiar sound of the front door unlocking sent a shock of panic through your both your minds.

The two of you tried to part as quickly as possible, but as Wanda walked in, she could see what she had interrupted. The bag she held dropped, and anger was written on her face as she took in the sight before her: the two of you panting, breathlessly. Natasha was still pulling her shirt over her head while you attempted to put on your sweatpants. Both of you had red and puffy lips. A purple bruise was still fresh on your neck, and your hair was wild.

Wanda looked to you and the to Natasha, her fists clenching at her side as she stepped further into the living room.

"What the fu-"

[disposal-blueeee]

god scriabin looks so pretty in here look at that stupid face

who is the top /j

[ OKAY FOR REAL THOUGH . this was really fun to make but this would kinda still count as nsfw , which again is NOT ALLOWED !! i decided to answer this one because i thought it was funny but still . please keep the rules in mind before making your asks !!! ]

[gracieheartspedro]

Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since. 

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah. 

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family. 

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again. 

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred. 

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered. 

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too. 

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change. 

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.” 

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter. 

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice. 

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?” 

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her. 

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table. 

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again. 

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat. 

-

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder. 

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase. 

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him. 

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you. 

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second. 

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.  

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him. 

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him. 

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air. 

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel. 

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

-

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff. 

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body. 

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones. 

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin. 

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed. 

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate. 

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight. 

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?” 

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl. 

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression. 

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved. 

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth. 

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm. 

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently. 

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language. 

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum. 

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs. 

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples. 

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you. 

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation. 

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster. 

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions. 

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum. 

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm. 

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

-

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed. 

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake. 

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum. 

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord. 

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked. 

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet. 

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task. 

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture. 

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. 

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it. 

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did. 

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before. 

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before. 

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you. 

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords. 

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive. 

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?” 

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes. 

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane. 

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was. 

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words. 

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off. 

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing. 

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower. 

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way. 

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit. 

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing. 

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth. 

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face. 

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor. 

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name. 

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you. 

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door. 

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is. 

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip. 

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation. 

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose. 

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes. 

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat. 

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly. 

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care. 

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen. 

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them. 

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry. 

You kind of scared yourself. 

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl. 

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect. 

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

[ratcash-wasgud]

MR. KRABS, I HAVE AN IDEAA! (I'm so sorry, I hope you get this reference...) Modern!Mizu x Shy Reader who absolutely adores sketching in their free time, but specifically loves drawing Mizu?

Mizu is unaware for a long time but finds a sketchbook filled with beautiful sketches of her, with little notes by them that the reader made such as 'I love my girlfriend' , 'Her nose is so pretty' , 'I like how well I captured her jawline, it encompasses just how pretty she is.' Every page is filled with little side-note compliments/notes to self (That the reader didn't expect her to see) and Mizu just fawns and falls in love with the shy reader even more. Maybe Mizu will bring it up and reader gets flustered and eventually they spend their free time doing little drawing contests of each other? I thought it was a cute idea, I hope you are doing well and have a great day! :)

DAAAAAMN

love this idea. i'm probably gonna turn this into loser!mizu propaganda tho muhahaha

btw I'M SO SORRY I'M ABSENT and i'm very behind on requests too and everything. i'll try to post more <3

AN: this didn't turn out exactly how the request asked, BUT PLS I had to add a little smut, sue me.

also, there are some audios at the end

Mizu.

The shine in her eyes.

The way her eyelashes curl.

The curve of her chin.

The way her cheeks move when she talks.

You loved everything about your girlfriend.

But she was just too grumpy sometimes, and when you gave her complimetns, she just got a little red and told you to stop. And you didn't have the confidence in you to try after that. But she was so pretty! You had to get your thoughts out somehow. So what can a girl do? Draw.

You secretly took candid pictures of Mizu, and used them as references. You drew her in every possible pose and with a lot of facial expressions.

You loved drawing her smile especially. Mizu never liked her own smile, she says it's dumb looking and it doesn't fit her, but it can't be further from the truth. Her smile was beautiful.

You could never show her the drawings tho, you'd die of embarassement. One day tho, Mizu was at your place, watching a movie on your bed.

But you were foolish enough to go to the bathroom, and leave her alone with your stuff for five whole minutes. Mizu stopped the movie when you left, because in her opinion, watching your reactions is more interesting than the movie, so watching alone is unnecessary.

But she quickly got bored, so she stood up and started looking around your room again, looking at the little trinkets you have everywhere, and the posters she had seen a hundred times before. Then she found something she hasn't seen before. It was a small, slim sketchbook.

On the cover, there were old receipts from your dates, candy wrappers you ate while watching her matches and a kiss mark in the middle you made with her favorite shade of lipstick.

You usually show her everything you draw, so having a sketchbook she never seen before was unusual. Maybe it's new? Her fingers glide along the back of the sketchbook before she decides to pry and open it.

On the first page, there was a whole page, colored marker drawing of...Mizu. She was a wide smile in the drawing, her hair let down, falling down her back and into her face, her eyes narrowed as he skin creased from how wide her smile was. It was obvious you spent a lot of time on it. But Mizu's eyes quickly dart to the little notes scattered all over the page.

"My girl's smile is too pretty"

"Her nose wrinkles up when she laughs."

"Her eyes shine so much."

"So beautiful. "

And many more. It had her blushing. She covered her mouth as she got more and more flustered the more notes she read. It was like you noticed everything and loved everything. It was so strange. You complimented even the slightest, most basic stuff. Did you count her pores too or something?

But damn...

It made all of her body flutter. She flipped the page, and the drawing just didn't stop, and so didn't the notes. It kind of overwhelmed Mizu. Slowly, the drawings got more and more...clotheless.

At first, it was her collarbones.

"Her skin is so smooth, and the bones cast such a pretty shadow."

Then her back.

"A canvas better than any other."

Then her full chest.

"Pillows of the gods."

Then her...

The clack of the door was heard and you stepped inside, looking mortified.

"Oh you uhm...saw everything?" *You murmur, looking at the sketchbook in your girlfriend's hand.

"Yeah." Mizu answers without hesitation, and puts it down, taking a step towards you. Her heart thumped loud in her chest, as if fire started burning her whole body. She just witnessed the most flattering thing ever but also...it made her want you so much. "You like drawing me?"

"Yes...sorry, I know it's pretty cringe, I...what are you doing?" Your eyes widen as Mizu's fingers grab the hem of her shirt and start lifting it.

"You never drew a full body picture. I'm giving you an opportunity. " She says casually, but her ears burn in a deep shade of red as she tosses it to the side, her sports bra following suit.

"I...but, are you sure? I swear you don't have to, it was just a silly hobby of mine, I..."

"Get your drawing stuff out." Mizu orders, pushing down her sweats, leaving herself only in boxers. You just nod quickly and clumsily gather your things, your face looking rather similar to a tomato.

Mizu throws away her boxers, finally releasing all of her skin and she is sculped like a goddess.

She has a toned body, muscles showing from under her skin, abs almost winking at you and her perky tits being decorated with her hard ripples were just the cherry on top. She has a pretty happy trail leading to her bush, that is guarding her lips.

You swallow thickly as she settles in the chair, looking directly on the bed where you sat down to draw. She spreads her legs, leaning back and her elbows resting on the armrests of the chair.

She looks better than ever.

You can't look into her eyes as you start sketching her body, hands slightly shaking.

"I can't read your notes now, so say them out loud." She breaks the silence, her voice low and breathy. "Tell me what you think."

You bite on the inside of your cheek, glancing up and meeting her gaze.

"Her uhm...her body is...something to die for." You murmur as your hand moves the pencil quickly.

Mizu's eyes never leave you. Her chest starts moving up and down visibly, and she feels her insides twitch everything you glance either at her tits or her pussy.

"Is your view okay?" She asks and before you could answer, she reaches down, spreading her lips, showing you her light peach colored skin that is now slowly dripping out slick.

Your mouth almost falls open, and you quickly start sketching a close up of her entrance on the side of the page, almost not even looking at the paper, but only at Mizu's skin.

"You're enjoying this, huh?" Mizu murmurs, her own lips forming a small smile. "Perv."

"...sorry." You murmur, and look down.

"Want an even better view?" She asks, spreading her legs even more. "Come here then."

You jump at the opportunity and kneel between her legs. You just stare at her pretty pussy as it pumps out her juices. But before you know, Mizu's legs wrap around your head, pulling you right into her. You don't hesitate, and start slurping up her slick right away, your tongue eager to please.

"You taste so good...the best." You murmur into her as groans of pleasure start leaving her lips.

"Yeah? Fuck...keep going...tell me more." She breathes out heavily, sliding deeper into the chair's back. "My pussy is the best, isn't it? You love it..."

"Yes, the best..." You whimper out pathetically, eyes staring up at her as you start slightly making out with her hole, your nose pushing into her bush. "So good, so pretty..."

"Oh fuck...just like that, mhm..." She moans as her hips start moving up and down, rubbing herself against your face...and you love it. You'd rather suffocate right now than stop. You moan into her, pleasing her giving you equally as much pleasure.

"Please...please cum...please give it to me, please please..." You chant between thrust of your tongue.

"Yeah...fuck...want me to come? You want it so bad, huh?" Mizu moans, her hand slowly finding her own breast and starts playing with her nipple. You nod eagerly as you suck on her clit, making her squeeze her thighs so hard around your head, they almost crushed your skull.

After a couple of moment, you felt her soft and warm release drip down your throat, and you happily swallowed all of it. "Fuuuck...yeah, drink it...all, okay? Mhm...yeah you love it..."

Mizu relished in the powertrip as her legs slowly let you go, and watched your head emerge from her pussy, soaked but with dreamy eyes.

"Next time, when you wanna draw me," She whispers, grabbing your chin. "Just ask."

[its-elioo]

RnM Headcanons:

I promised to write some headcanons about the girls and their guardians some time ago. I finally had motivation to write them down, so here there are!

Optimus Prime and Sunset Shimmer:

- Sunny never had a father figure in her life and really enjoys it when they spent time together

- Optimus is very caring and protective of his charge

- You know this thing where you tell your dad you like this specific stuff and then he brings you more? That’s definitely OP

- One time he overheard Sunset having discussion with Pinkie Pie about their favorite desserts. After mentioning that she really likes strawberry cheesecake, and that’s her favorite fruit, Optimus swiftly assigned himself a mission

- Later, when Sunset had to leave her home to get some groceries, she was greeted by bunch of wooden boxes full of strawberries on her front door

- She was flabbergasted

SS: Optimus- how did you-?!

OP: I heard you mentioning that you enjoy this specific type of fruit.

SS: You didn’t need to bring me a whole stack of it!

OP: Oh, apologies… Do you perhaps need more?

SS: Wha- NO!

- They both like reading so they will certainly share their opinions or recommend some of the books they like (especially history ones)

- Usually there are moments when one of them starts feeling down while talking about their past

- Lots of comfort and reassurance

- You cannot tell me Sunset hasn’t call him ‘dad’ at least once on accident

- She will most likely feel super embarrassed about it, however, Optimus will start crying from the inside

- One time she even decided to draw him a portrait as a small gift (he kept it in his quarters and smiles every time he sees it <3)

Arcee and Twilight Sparkle:

- You guys know Eda and Luz from the Owl house? That’s them. Except that Arcee is waaay much more of a strict and protective mom figure

- This motorcycle lady doesn’t understand half of the science stuff her charge is saying but that doesn’t mean she is not listening

- Calls her ‘kid’ most of the time, even though Twilight said she was a full grown adult who can take care of herself

- Arcee has these ‘mother/carrier instincts’ she just can’t help but WORRY

- Really enjoys to rest besides her human companion and listen to her talking

- Fun fact: it took a bit longer for Arcee to realize that she had become a parental figure... again

- One time, Twilight asked if she can learn some words of their Cybertronian language and Arcee gladly accepted to teach her

- They often go out for a drive, especially when Twilight gets too overwhelmed with work

- How many times did this girl fell asleep while doing her studies? Arcee lost count.

- Robot mom grabs a blanket, wraps it around her and carries her to somewhere more comfortable

- Heck she will even hold her till she wakes up if she can’t find a place for her to take a proper rest

- Will kick anyone’s ass/aft if they disrupt her sleeping

- Brains and brawn duo

Knock Out and Rarity:

- So stylish and dramatic

- *cough* theatre kids *cough*

- Can literally stare at you with judging faces while also gossiping about your appearance

- Shopping? Oh, absolutely.

- What’s better than having a guardian who can transform into a car and carry your bags in his vehicle mode?

- To return the favor Rarity offers him a hand with polishing his finish

- They have this ‘relaxation day’ once in a while

- Buffing, manicures, watching movies, trying on some makeup or outfits, you know it

- He really wanted to try these types of masks which made your skin cleaner and softer. Doesn’t give a flying frag if he is a robot, will even use a mass displacement to try it out

- Knock Out is kinda touch starved and it didn’t took Rarity too long to realize that

- Her guardian often suggests if he can hold her or if she wants to sit on his shoulder-pad while he works

- This big cherry bot really enjoys to run his digit around her curly hair or to playfully poke her cheeks

- As his best friend, she always gives him compliments for the good work he has done

- There was even a moment when she was in her robot form and she cupped his face-plate while praising him

- And let me tell you. Knock Out was absolutely stunned. He was on the verge of TEARS. (poor boy needs more love and attention)

- Hugs are a must, he just starves for them

- Appreciates it a lot whenever Rarity is there for him

Sideswipe and Rainbow Dash:

- SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS

- They are the MASTERS of pranks

- Chaos, absolute chaos I tell you

- Pretty cocky and competitive too

- Some of their team members even wonder how are they not related??

- Often show off their abilities and talk about how they are 'the most skilled person/bot there ever is'

- They share one brain cell

- Both of them care deeply for each other, they just show it through actions. They aren’t really into the sharing feelings conversations but if things get pretty tough, they will have to talk about it, whether they like or not

- Sideswipe has these overprotective habits where he keeps his optics on her all the time or stays pretty close during any dangerous situations. This dude just doesn’t want to see her getting harmed otherwise he will flip out

- During their free time they like to play video games, go racing or just go for a casual drive, have training exercises (soccer, fighting etc.) or to annoy the rest if they are bored and have nothing else to do

- Will never tell this to anyone else but there a few occasions when they like to rest together

- Imagine one of them has a nightmare or can’t fall asleep. It’s snuggle time.

-If he is recharging in his vehicle form, Rainbow will grab a pillow and curl up on the seats OR he will lay on his chassis and rest his helm over his crossed arms, then he can nestle her close to his face-plate

- Sideswipe is a music enjoyer so he will definitely hype her up when she plays the guitar

- Rainbow teaches him all of the slangs and memes she can think of

- They cover one another or make up excuses if they want to go out to have some fun

- Dash pretty often forgets about things she needs to do (chores, homework or smth else) but her guardian is there to remind her

Bumblebee and Fluttershy:

- The 'parent friends' of the group

- Bee has these awful dad-jokes that he uses and somehow Shy is the only one that will laugh at them

- Some of their teammates tease the two about them acting just like love-bugs

- Bumblebee was so delighted when Fluttershy got out of her shell and finally felt comfortable around him

- Finds it adorable when she becomes too flustered and covers her face

- Like to talk about their interests and listen to each other

- Sometimes he gets a bit nervous and forgets how to properly talk (even if it’s a compliment or want to ask her something) she thinks it's cute

- If she gets too scared her first instinct is to quickly hide behind him

- He really loves listening to their band’s music when they practice at the base

- Both enjoy the late night drives when they can relax

- They often talk about Earth and it’s most incredible places they have seen or wish to explore. Bee will probably plan a short trip just for the two of them, the Groundbridge is right there!

Smokescreen and Pinkie Pie:

- This two are always full on energy

- Will never get bored when they are together, they will find something fun or mischievous to do

- *gasp* Oh no, Smokey is sad? Np! Pinkie is here to help! She has her ways of cheering people up.

- Poor big bot wishes he could taste human food. Every time he sees her amazing baked goods he pouts

- One day she made some cupcakes with blue-yellow icing that matched his color scheme (he didn’t cry after that nooo)

- He can get anxious tho, especially when Pinkie is too carefree (he doesn’t want his human to get hurt after all)

- Smokescreen is a show-off so he usually tries to impress her with his fighting abilities and speed

- This sweet girl always encourages him and supports her guardian no matter what

- He is amazed by the many talents she has (baking, playing the drums, roller skating etc.) like how?? What she can’t do?!

- Will always remain surprised by her hair. She keeps so many things inside, how is that even possible? Guess it will remain a mystery.

Bulkhead and Applejack:

- When I tell you AJ is one of the strongest members in the team, I mean it

- She can lift every heavy and large bot with EASE

- Their hugs are so funny and adorable she sometimes doesn’t realize she is actually lifting him from the ground

- Often talk about the good old days or the cool adventures they had

- Sometimes they have wrestling competitions and what do you know, AJ wins them all!

- If no one else is around, Bulkhead will help her out with the chores in the apple farm

- Will sometimes stumble on something by accident and apologize immediately

- Applejack thinks his clumsy and nervous side is pretty sweet

- She always appreciates his assistance (even tho he crushed several trees, oops)

- He definitely likes hearing her cute snorts when she laughs

[loremaster]

happy birthday to the guy i've been drawing nonstop for the past several months - here's proof!!! he's a lot of fun to draw!

vivia is also a very important character to me for very personal reasons... (cw: family death)

it didn't take long for me to realize he was gonna be my favorite character in the game - seeing him lounging in places he shouldn't be cracked me up, and so did his morbid catchphrase... i totally related to his autistic tendencies, and his eagerness to dwell on depressing philosophical thoughts. i especially love and relate to his love for literature and literary analysis, especially because my eighth grade english teacher was my dad, who introduced me to so many of what are now my favorite books, and showed me how to look closer into what makes them so good. his story structure classes were unforgettable.

my dad passed away in 2020 and i've been going through fluctuating stages of grief since. it ebbs and flows but never really leaves. a lot of my art and stories from the past 3+ years have been ways to process and try to heal from that trauma (especially my pokemon sword nuzlocke comic, which i'm hoping to finish this summer)

so seeing the strange way vivia deals with death - in general, and the death of a loved one - fascinated me and destroyed me. i've spent many nights curled up in bed sobbing myself to sleep thinking about the heartbreak he goes through in the story, the regrets, the destructive cycle of grief, the depths of the emotions he feels in such a unique way (he's so desensitized he never cries once in the whole game!) and the ways he is able to start to grow and heal from it afterwards.

exploring the queer romantic angle of vivia's character arc is also so so so important to me, not only because i'm a queer person who's wanted to tell queer stories since i was a teen, but because my dad was also a queer person, who didn't get to come out as bisexual until the tail end of his too-short life. i know he connected to a lot of the same Boys In Love stories that I did, and i wish we'd had the opportunity to explore that common ground further. but since i can't, all i can do is the next best thing - making art about it and inspired by it. i think my dad would really like vivia and the stories i've been trying to tell about him. (harold and maude was one of his favorite movies - and if you're a vivia fan and you've never seen it GO WATCH IT RIGHT NOW. suicidal teen forms an unlikely friendship with a cheerful old lady. you will cry your eyes out. you will want to LIVE)

so, i guess... thanks kodaka for making this specific character that spoke so deeply to me at this specific time in my life and letting me use him as a vehicle to process my own grief in the gayest ways possible. and happy birthday veeva <3

[dontexpectmuch]

hii im obsessed with your writing like pls send help-

i was wondering if you could write a lil fic abt Jude where he and the reader have like a rlly cute relationship and they have special daily things (kiss before he leaves, cuddles when watching movies, etc) but then Jude breaks up with her bc she's too 'needy' and then he regrets it bc he misses her antics and its just a whole lot of angst. no fluff, bc your sad stories with sad endings are to die for ✨❤

where did you go wrong? were you really that clingy, needy even? did he feel uncomfortable, like he didn’t have enough space?

were all the kisses fake, something he did to please you?

“‘m leaving!” he yelled, standing by the door with his bag on his shoulders, leaving for training.

hearing his voice, you moved to him to kiss him goodbye, lips already puckered as you angled your head up, his lips finally meeting yours.

“take care and text me if you need anything, yeah?” you asked him, smile reaching your eyes.

jude fought the urge to roll his eyes, what could he possibly need when he was at training? however, he just nodded, telling you he would before closing the door behind him.

or what about the sweet nothings he’d whisper in your ear when you were cuddling on your couch, watching his favorite show. the way he’d hold you close, drawing loose shapes on your waist as he looked at you, smiling softly.

“i love you, you know?” his voice was soft, suitable for the current vibe.

he came back from training, immediately closing his arms around your body. even though you didn’t live together officially, it surly felt like it, since you spent most of your time together in your flat.

“i love you too, jude.” you said, head leaning against his shoulder, eyes looking at his.

surly, you weren’t the only one in this relationship that liked to cling on to their partner, trying to be as close to them as possible. jude also always had to touch you somehow, wether it was your waist, your shoulder or even your pinky finger.

if that was the case, why did he want to end the relationship then? everything seemed to be fine, where did that come from all of a sudden?

jude looked at you with empty eyes, no smile on his face, like he lost an important game. but, that wasn’t the case. these last few games only ended with positive results for the team. so, why all of a sudden?

“we should break up.” he began, voice stoic, sending shivers down your spine.

“huh?” did you hear wrong? what was he talking about?

“‘m bein’ serious, i don’t feel like bein’ in a relationship with you anymore.” he continued, stabbing you in the heart with every word that left his lips.

you shook your head lightly, as if trying to wake yourself up this nightmare. “i don’t understand, why? did something happen?”

jude sighed, he knew that it wouldn’t be easy, you were always like that, questioning his any and every move. “i need space, and it seems like you don’t want to give me enough. always clingin’ onto me like your life depends on it, y’know?”

you would have never thought that jude, your sweet and considerate jude, could ever be able to hurt you like that, making you feel small and questioning your relationship in ways you never did before.

“but-“

“please, just accept it and let go, will you? i’ll get the rest of my stuff some other day.” he cut you off, patience running thin as he gets up and leaves your home without even bidding goodbye.

he just left you, broken hearted, tears running down your cheeks as you desperately tried to comprehend what just happened.

now, months passed by and you slowly but steadily moved on from the break up, going as far as to dating a few people here and there. still, the thought of being in another committed relationship made you shiver, the scars still too fresh.

you were once again in your flat, typing away on your laptop as the sudden noise of your doorbell pulled you out of your concentrated state. sighing, you leave your desk and move to the front door, opening it without checking first, a huge mistake.

there he stood, in all his pride, looking down at you with an uncertain look in his eyes. he was wearing some tracksuit and a beanie, maybe coming here after training. you wouldn’t know, however not knowing about his growing success wasn’t as easy as you thought.

while you tried your best to move on from jude, he made it quite hard for you. his face plastered on posters on the street, multiple pictures of him online on your feed and what not. it made you boil internally, mad at the universe for doing that to you.

“hey.” jude is the first to speak up, not being able to bear the awkward silence hovering between any longer.

“did you forget something here?” is all you reply, coldness radiating from you as you stood firmly on your spot.

what was he doing here?

“i miss you, i miss us.” he mumbled, face looking down, yet his eyes peaked though his lashes, scanning your face for any reaction to his words.

scoffing, you roll your eyes and try to close the door, however jude reacts fast and puts his foot between the frame and door, hindering you from hiding yourself from him.

“please,” he almost begs, desperation laced in his voice, “i was an idiot, i didn’t think clearly. i mistook your love for clinginess.”

“am i supposed to care?” you wanted to laugh.

did he really think you’d forgive him? after what he has put you through? you weren’t dumb nor blind, you have seem all the posts of him with various women in clubs or on the street, kissing, touching and much more.

“i’m not some bed warmer, jude. i won’t wait for you to play around a bit and then come back, especially not after how you ended things.” you tell him, eyes stern.

jude sighed, closing his eyes to compose himself before he spoke up, “i know, but i changed. after all this time i came to realize that i can’t do it without you, please, babe-“

“don’t call me that, i have a name, you know?” you interrupted, shaking your head, “don’t call me in general, jude. leave me alone.”

this time, you shut the door completely, turning your back and leaning against it as you inhaled deeply.

this is not how you imagined your saturday night to be like, but whatever.

though it hurt, rejecting the man that you once called the love of your life, you also felt really proud for staying true to yourself.

yes, you missed him, dearly, and seeing him again resurfaced some of the feelings you still had. but you proved to yourself that you were on the right path.

you were moving on.

————————————————

fuck sleep

[the16thtower]

I watched the Substance last night and I think it would be really funny if the whole Substance set-up was a Herbert West scheme.

So here’s my pitch for a 3rd Re-Animator (I’m pretending the actual 3rd one doesn’t exist).

Picture this: Dan and Herbert are in their 60s, working out of a crappy plastic surgery in LA and living in a cramped apartment above it, trying to make a legitimate living. They’ve been on the run for the last few decades, moving every time either the authorities or Doctor Hill catch up to them. While Dan tries to fill his days giving C-list celebrities nose jobs, Herbert is once again yearning for the god-like power he held as a younger man. He maintains a supply of the serum but only for his own usage (the first movie hints he has a bit of a dependency) and for emergency circumstances at the surgery. His experiments have ruined their lives too many times before and they’re getting too old to have to keep moving. The two of them are close and begrudgingly fond of each other, but there’s a lifetime of unspoken feelings between them.

The two of them get mistaken for a couple and this eats at Dan, who resents Herbert for making him impossible to have a normal life. It culminates in a massive argument, where Herbert says that Dan ruined his own life by never choosing to walk away and pursue the things he says he wants. He questions how badly Dan actually wanted the whole white picket fence charade and Dan likens Herbert to a black hole, drawing him back in even when he doesn’t want to. The fight fizzles out, with Herbert upset that Dan feels trapped by him even after all this time and Dan still frustrated but also reckoning with his admission that Herbert was more important to him than his previous female love interests and “normal life”.

Herbert returns to his studies in earnest, this time exploring the effects of the serum on cellular reproduction. He wants a new companion if Dan isn’t happy to fulfill that role anymore and what better than a clone of himself? He manages to get the egg yolk from the beginning of the Substance to replicate and, in true Herbert West fashion, turns the needle on himself to see what would happen. Dan bursts in as the new Herbert is being birthed from his back. While initially smugly triumphant, retrieving his glasses from the older body, the new Herbert collapses almost immediately. Panicking as blood pools from his nose, the younger Herbert apologises profusely for his recklessness as Dan realises he needs to be stabilised with spinal fluid from the host body. Cue the homoerotic needle scene and we then cut to a terse Dan, arms crossed, staring down the younger Herbert as he enthusiastically digs into a bowl of cereal in a fluffy bathrobe. Herbert sardonically refers to Dan as “my hero” and Dan has to contend with the unexpected delight that comes from seeing Herbert as he was when they first met.

Through intensive testing by Dan, the two figure out that the clone is near-identical to the original Herbert and is unstable by itself, leading to them developing the procedure laid out in the Substance. There is more than one comment from the clone about Dan’s “impeccable bedside manner” as Dan obsessively monitors both Herberts’ well-being.

After about a week, we cut to a scene where Dan and the younger Herbert are out at a bar celebrating the successful experiment, where Dan is both excited by Herbert’s boasts that he’s achieved immortality and sad that he’s never going to see the Herbert that he spent years with again. The clone once again collapses and Dan has to rush him home, leading him to hook him up to the unconscious Herbert out of desperation. The older Herbert wakes up and is thrilled to find out that his experiment was a success. One of his hands is left visibly aged from not being switched in time and while Dan is shaken by this, Herbert marvels the change as a valuable warning.

The clone gets dubbed ‘Junior’ and, because Herbert in any iteration can’t be trusted to be normal, the two treat each other like father and son. There’s a lot of terrible dad jokes from Herbert. Dan often refers to Junior as "the boy".

The three fall into a routine after several months, with Herbert and Junior using Dan as an intermediary to pass along letters to each other. Dan becomes more possessive and protective of Herbert, a change that Herbert is surprised but receptive to. (Dan’s saviour complex for once is not at odds with Herbert’s god complex).

There’s a scene where Dan is examining Herbert’s back scar…

Dan: “You’re healing up better than I hoped.”

Herbert: “Well, I had an excellent surgeon.”

Meanwhile, Dan’s relationship with Junior is more tumultuous - he’s very familiar with what Herbert was capable of in his prime and he doesn’t trust Junior not to draw unwanted attention. He ends up implanting a tracking device in Junior while he’s unconscious for emergencies. Junior himself is more probing and direct in asking Dan why he’s decided to stay with Herbert for all these years, discontent in continuing to allow Dan to hide behind excuses like his older counterpart. Cognizant of the fact that Dan doesn’t fully trust him, Junior starts leaving the house for days at a time to attend to personal projects, leaving Dan to stew in his conflicting feelings.

Eventually, Dan decides to go looking for Junior using the tracking device and finds him making out with an older man at a gay bar. They briefly lock eyes before Dan leaves immediately. We see Junior slip a USB similar to the one Elisabeth receives into the man’s pocket as he continues to kiss him. The next day, the two have an awkward discussion.

Dan: “Last night… it’s fine, I just didn’t realise…”

Junior: “Let’s not kid ourselves, Daniel - denial is not attractive on either one of us.”

Dan: “… Is this… both of you or…?”

Junior: “Why don’t you ask him?”

At the next switch, Herbert wakes up to Dan at his bedside, holding his hand, unable to look him in the eye. Herbert asks him what’s wrong and Dan responds by asking whether Junior can truly be the same as Herbert, taking into account nature vs nurture. Herbert replies that while they’re the same entity, Junior has opportunities that he never could have dreamed of and that he’s thrilled that at least one version of him can appreciate that (his answer is vague and can be interpreted as the opportunity for scientific or sexual exploration - it’s definitely both). Dan considers the answer and finally asks Herbert to clone him so that Junior may have a companion.

Herbert gets an erection is thrilled and the two begin preparation. During this time, Herbert and Dan start to receive strange patients looking for plastic surgery to correct unexplainable deformities, who post-surgery are prone to severe infection and necropsy despite their best efforts.

The night of Dan’s activation, Herbert gently bids Dan sweet dreams before switching as Dan injects the activator. Junior watches enraptured, fully nude, as Dan splits open and the younger self slides out. Junior cradles the younger Dan in a blanket reminiscent of the scene from the first Re-Animator movie and picks up the needle to sew up Dan: “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of it.”

The younger Dan (who I will be nicknaming Danny) watches with rapt attention as Junior finishes his sutures, slowly draws the fluid from Dan’s back, and grips Danny’s thigh as he stabilises him: “You’re being such a good boy for me - look at you, you’re perfect.”

Danny shudders in relief and ecstasy. He manages to sit up, meeting eyes with Junior, who is drinking him in eagerly, still crouched. He looks to his older self’s face. Junior joins him, sweeping the hair from Dan’s face.

Danny: “Are we really that old?”

Junior: “With all we’ve accomplished… of course we are. It’s a minor miracle in itself.”

The two tend to their older selves before adjourning to their clinic, Junior leading Danny by the hand to begin their inspection of him. It’s slow, methodical, and Junior can barely keep his hands off Danny. (Whether this leads to outright sex, I'm in two minds about since medical and sexual intimacy are pretty much the same thing for Herbert. If it does, Herbert bottoms.)

We cut to later in the night. The two are outside of the house. Danny asks what they’re doing and Junior tells he’s got a secret he needs to show him. They arrive at a rundown warehouse. Inside we find a laboratory, video cameras, a setup for packaging medical equipment - Junior reveals that he’s been conducting his own experiments on how the cloning process functions, eliciting willing participants by repackaging it as a anti-ageing remedy for LA’s wilting celebrities and socialites. Danny finds himself pitying the subjects unable to use the Substance correctly, to which Junior objects.

Junior: “I’ve given them every tool to succeed - I can’t be blamed for their weakness. They may no longer be bound to the judgements of an unimaginative god, but if they succumb to their vanity, their greed… good riddance.”

The two spend an idyllic week together, enjoying LA for the first time since they arrived in the city and working on the research gathered on the Substance. They’re more casually intimate with each other, what was once fondness is now clear adoration. (Junior often uses pet names, Danny is big on touch).

There’s a scene where it’s late at night and they’re in the rain, Danny holding the umbrella as Junior is scraping up samples from a subject who disintegrated. He finds the heart and presents it to Dan, who smiles out of nostalgia.

Junior: “This one barely made it two months before it attempted to re-administer the activator. This really is the city of unfettered self-destruction.”

Danny: “To what end are we doing this? We already understand the limitations of this process.”

Junior: “I need data. I want every day I can get, Dan, and I need to make sure both of us can be there to enjoy it.”

In the background, we can see something is stalking the two of them, following them as they leave.

We cut to a seedy motel room, shutters drawn, lights dim, a chair wedged under the doorknob of the bathroom. A frazzled young woman with dried blood under her nose is trying to fight off a panic attack as she sits on the bed:

“I’ve taken too much of her time already - she’ll never forgive me. She’ll want to retaliate, I just know it. It’s not fair, I’m not the one who fucked up her life.”

Opposite, a man in a trench coat sits unnaturally straight, listening attentively.

“You poor thing. Of course it’s not fair - what an awful situation she’s put you in, so selfish. Getting angry at you for wanting to enjoy yourself…”

She listens distractedly, eyes focused on the bathroom door. Her attention returns to him as he starts making promises: that he can fix her other self, that she doesn’t need to worry, that he’s acquainted with cases like this and his talents as a surgeon can remedy the situation. She eventually leads him to the bathroom where an emaciated, oozing body is lying in the bathtub.

Dr Hill: “What a predicament. Let me speak to my patient.”

We cut to Junior noting later in the week that more subjects than usual are failing to properly switch or pick up their supplies. Danny slips one of Junior’s USBs into the pocket of a trophy wife Karen after watching her blow up in a coffee shop, which Junior takes as finally receiving implicit support from Danny on the venture.

However, before the switch, Danny uses a Sharpie to write instructions on Dan’s palm, warning him about Junior’s enterprise with the Substance. Dan wakes up and sees the note, showing it to Herbert.

Dan: “Your boy is a troublemaker.”

Herbert: “And yours is a tattle-tale.”

The pair are able to piece together what’s happening based off the data from the tracking device and the contents of Junior’s lab. Amongst the data and samples, Dan finds out a photo booth snapshot tacked to a wall, confirming Junior and Danny as lovers. Herbert finds him staring at it.

Dan: “… Do you think we’re still the same?”

Herbert: “I’d like to think so. Are we really that different? … I still have my boyish good looks.”

The pair’s moment is interrupted as they hear banging against the doors of the warehouse. As the doors begin to buckle, Dan and Herbert fall back on old instincts and start gathering as much of the research as they can. A dozen deformed humanoids stumble into the room, each clearly aged victims of the Substance having undergone drastic, futile plastic surgery in an attempt to regain their old appearances. The two flee back to their apartment and are attempting to barricade themselves into the room where the clones are unconscious as Dr Hill enters with his army. Hill reveals that he is still merely a head, held aloft on a borrowed body.

Herbert: "Doesn't it embarrass you, Dr Hill, that you survive off my crumbs? I'd say you're hardly better than a rat but a rat knows to keep to the sewer."

Dr Hill: "Rich coming from you, West - are you enjoying the prestige of being a sleazy Hollywood quack?"

Hill has his goons restrain Herbert and coerces Dan into grafting his head in place of Junior's under the threat of killing Herbert. Dan convinces Hill that Herbert will need to be connected to Junior to allow the body to survive such a drastic procedure, and manages to awaken both at once, allowing Junior to drive a syringe of activator into Hill's eye.

The three of them attempt to fight off the horde but Dan is quickly injured, leading him to desperately switch in Danny. Meanwhile, Dr Hill's skull splits with an almighty scream as the flesh underneath begins to bubble and swell, slowly filling the room with this enormous, pulsing brain covered in an angry chorus of Hill faces. Some of the horde flees, some are trapped underneath Hill's mass. Junior, Herbert, and Danny attempt to flee with the unconscious Dan but the Hill entity uses its hypnosis to force one of the remaining goons to grab Dan and push him into one of Hill's giant mouths. Herbert goes back after him and Danny has to stop Junior from following as Hill continues to grow.

We see from the street as Hill pops, exploding in a tsunami of blood. Later, cops pick apart the crime scene, counting Herbert and Dan among the dead. We then cut to a long pan through Herbert and Dan's ransacked apartment, as everything of value has been taken. We see into Herbert's private study, which has been similarly ransacked. We get the indication that much like Junior, Herbert has been working on his own project in secret, which appears to be a method of generating stabiliser without the original host.

We then cut to the car park out back of the apartment where Junior and Danny are desperately packing the last items into their car. Both are looking a little sickly and are hooked into some glowing IVs but are otherwise determined. It's not a perfect fix but it's better than nothing. Junior gently wipes away a trail of blood leaking from Danny's nose and the two peel away from the car park and onto the open road.

[eddiernunson]

Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves…difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie’s general appearance.

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when I wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie’s energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

I'm posting a sneak at this one, because it was a surprisingly close call. I'm not sure when I'll be done, tbh. But here's the first 900 words!

As the night swallowed you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car while she drives you to the ER. While rough housing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you roll your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sat in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain at each one. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called to the back as you read the memes and watch with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick onto someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally in the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Somehow, he was just so enticing, everything about him drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage, wondering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and white tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

If you want to be tagged when the full fic is posted, just let me know in the replies. Again, I have no idea when that will happen, it's not done yet. Maybe this'll give me the motivation i need

[donnerpartyofone]

This is from Adam Bornstein's column in Arnold Schwarzenegger's newsletter, which I feel somewhat silly about reading so faithfully but it is not infrequently interesting. Over the past few years I have been thinking about discipline, how you gain it and lose it, and what it does for you besides achieving a specific outcome. To say that the product of self-control is self-control itself may not sound very enticing, but it's pretty important. I feel like I've lost a lot of that over the last few chapters of my life, and I suspect that it is harder to gain back at my age, but I need to think about it.

I've been thinking about my entire life history with self-control. When I was a kid, I was masochistically disciplined. As early on as I can remember, I had this impression that life was essentially or even exclusively difficult and the only way to justify your existence and satisfy other people was to continuously demonstrate your ability to endure pain, boredom, frustration, deprivation, disappointment, and embarrassment, every hour of every day, forever. (Not that I always endured these things without having a fucking meltdown, but they were the entire content of my life it seemed, so I WAS enduring them) It wasn't all bad, I guess; I got good grades and, like, I remember enjoying karate classes, which are heavily predicated on repetition and endurance and delayed gratification. I had a weird fixation on the army; I didn't fantasize about war or patriotism or whatever, it was this whole thing about how I would be amazing at boot camp and getting yelled at. I also had some sort of bizarre idea about prison, like I would be the best at being a prisoner. This is because I'm a natural-born pervert.

Sometime in my 20s, I started to lose my discipline. I think there were a lot of reasons. A big reason is probably that I didn't have anything to be disciplined FOR. I'd been told my whole life that I was smart and I could be anything I wanted when I grew up, or whatever, so I thought that eventually it would start to become clear what I should do with my life, but it never did. The few things I thought would make a good career for me were things I had no practical understanding of, no idea what it took to make them into a job, so I just didn't do them. This surely means I was never going to be good at them anyway; I think when you're truly interested in something you become compelled by an affectionate curiosity about what you need to learn and do in order to participate in that thing. I may also be too intellectually deficient to have figured out the right questions about my interests, but anyway, all that youthful discipline I had built up to get good grades and satisfy adults didn't really have a purpose when I became an adult myself, so my grip on myself started to slip.

My early adult life was pretty bad. Just the basics of finding jobs and places to live eluded me; I never had the knowledge or the paperwork or the experience or the self-confidence to do the adult things, and I think this was pretty painfully obvious to other adults who were in a position to give me opportunities. I had a sense of being really stunted and way behind where I should be in my personal development, at my age, but I didn't know what to do about it. I did try; there's a perception about me that I just give up and don't try, so I often feel like no one is willing to recognize how often I try and fail, and I'm struggling to let go of my resentment about that. Anyway I continued my early childhood trend of having relationships with pushy, manipulative, abusive people who fed back to me the worst truths about myself, so they seemed very "honest" to me, a quality I admired. I spent most of my time just feeling bad and/or trying to survive social situations. It bothers me now when I think about all the years that I could have spent reading really great books that I still haven't read, trying to write and draw more, watching the movies that I'm still struggling to catch up on, seeing more art. Being in pain is a full-time job, it is incredibly time-consuming, and you will lose a lot more time if, in addition to being in pain, you are spending your evenings not reading Nabokov but watching The Jersey Shore and Mad Men and various other shows about abusive cheaters with your abusive cheating boyfriend who is shouting at the screen about how the girls force the guys to cheat, and who might start screaming at you and keeping you awake for days and chasing you into the closet if you betray the slightest hint of discomfort. All of that is extremely time-consuming.

When life got better, I think I had kind of a revenge reaction against discipline. Like in the early part of my life I had no money, and by the time I had some money I had no understanding of how it worked and no respect for it because I always had this powerful sense that everything is turning into ash before your eyes anyway and nothing is yours so who really cares. So if I got money, I'd just fucking spend it. Being so intensely disciplined as a kid had gotten me nowhere, as far as I could tell, so fuck it, I'm eating fucking candy bars, I'm having another suicidal bodega hoagie for dinner, why the fuck shouldn't I. I will sleep all goddamn day if I want, for days on end, I have a lot of self-indulgence to catch up on!

I'm not completely without discipline as a full-blown adult, I still have plenty of guilt and obligation and fear motivating me to go to the doctor and shit like that. I wish I were more motivated by optimism and a sense of building something, but I must say that doesn't often seem to work. The doctor is often frustrating and ambiguous. Sometimes I get a simple-seeming treatment for a problem, and it destroys a different part of my body and then I have to be on four new medications, and medications to control their side effects. Sometimes I pick up a new form of exercise and I feel good about myself for making an effort, and then the new routine causes problems I need to pay for treatment to fix. It seems I always have to sacrifice one part of myself for another and it's just a perpetual balancing act of barely-normal or sub-normal functioning. I wish it felt more like self-improvement. I wish I could enjoy feeling responsible without then feeling like I made a huge mistake and basically my whole being is just a lemon that does not warrant this much maintenance and concern.

But anyway.

After XX years I just had so many disappointments and made so many unpleasant discoveries, I started to wonder why people say "At least you tried." Like are we SURE that "trying" is, in and of itself, virtuous? Isn't it sometimes that you should "choose your battles" or something? Isn't giving up at least sometimes the actual correct and rational thing to do, when the ROI is nonexistent? What's with the "trying" all the time, what's with the not so subtle suggestion that there's some superior moral affect of trying?

It took me a long time to figure out that making an effort, at anything, even if it doesn't pay off in the specific expected way, builds you into a more resilient and capable person. I did have some counter-examples that helped me see what was going on, of people who performatively did the absolute bare fucking minimum and expected to be showered with praise and encouragement for it, and it was like this big trap to prove that nobody was giving them the unconditional love that they believed they deserved, and being in that behavioral habit all the time eventually rendered them incapable of actually sitting down and writing the thing or making the art or shooting the shot, or whatever, just for the love of doing those things and the curiosity about what could happen if you try. I saw that happening and I did not want to be like that. It painted a very clear picture of what "character" is, what is meant by "building character". The total refusal to ever make yourself uncomfortable doesn't only have specific in-situ destructive effects, but it also makes you a person who is generally less capable of dealing with life.

I want to get back to where I can make myself do things, not only out of fear and shame and masochism, and also not only to obtain a certain result which may not ever come, but just to rebuild self-control. I know that at my age, after a lot of neglect and nihilism, it's going to be harder to get that back. But it's gotta be worth it. I'm thinking about that thing where Arnold Schwarzenegger took ballet lessons to improve his posing, which by his account made him feel totally ridiculous, and like he knew he wasn't going to become a skilled ballerina or anything--but in the short term it did improve his poses, and in the longer term it made him more capable of doing things that felt embarrassing and hard and that he wasn't necessarily cut out for. That seems like a reasonable goal for me.