#sorry got a little yappy

[sovereignsystem]

I think our system as a whole is pretty cool. I mean, we're not entirely functional, sometimes we get on each others nerves, and there have been plenty of moments where we actively hate being a system.

But then there was that time that Levi, Kalvin and me were going to bed so Kalvin threw our body onto the bed like a dead fish just to make us laugh.

And that time that Ethan got so fed up with our dirty fridge that he cleaned the whole thing out, even going so far as to clean our room for us too.

And the semi-nightly sessions of watching a comfort show, using discord and PK to talk to each other and make funny comments about it.

And Carkus and Sal instantly connecting to one another as traumaholders to be each other's emotional support.

And Hiro forming, immediately coming into his own as a protector and helping us through the fight against endos (among many other things).

And even the little stuff, like mood boosters existing, caretakers doing their amazing job, protectors being the gentle giants we need them to be.

Systemhood is hard, it's born of horrific things and it's by no means something to romanticize. But it can also be beautiful.

-🧟‍♂️ (He/him)

tired of endos in the tags and the negativity as a result. i was born to be a hater but even i need to take a hating break sometimes. and that means the rest of you all too. so tell me something cool about your system, or your headspace, or a specific alter, or just something you like. tell me about a unique hobby you have. tell me something funny one of you said recently. infodump about your system functions if you want. use this post as a show and tell time.

(please do not call me any platonic terms or use any platonic terms of endearment for me on this post. i'm apothiplatonic, as is the rest of our system.)

[rose-tinted-vision]

This is written for the @cdrama-action event, requested by @hualianisms

Fandom: Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Relationships: Fang Duobing/Li Lianhua, Li Lianhua & Di Feisheng, Fang Duobing & Di Feisheng

Summary:

“Curses are placebo, don’t you think? As long as you don’t believe in luck, you won’t have bad luck. People’s so-called curses won’t work on you either.”

“What sort of curse is it, anyway? We can try to break it, just in case.”

In which Li Lianhua gets hit with a curse- a love spell, really- to fall in love with the first person he sees

[chiefguideandcentre]

Why is this dog so annoying?! Right outside my window barking barking barking BARKING. Like shut the fuck up! I don’t care if you see something. What, are you talking to another dog I can’t hear? Aren’t you tired? Doesn’t your throat hurt? This is non-stop, take a fucking break. It’s nighttime, now is not the time for your nonsense. Please develop a sense of awareness and realize you are being obnoxious and then cease and desist immediately. But no NoOoOoOOooOo gotta keep going, just gotta keep barking and barking and barking and……

[ataliagold]

If Love Was Contagious I Might Be Immune To It

For @steddie-week day 2, prompts "hands" and "touch starved".

Title from an unreleased Noah Kahan song.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1916

C/W: Referenced death of a grandparent.

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, Steve is touched-starved, Steve has bad parents, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart

Summary: Steve's early life is mostly devoid of love - until Eddie Munson.

___

He’s eight years old, and his wrist is broken.

It’s the first time he’s broken a bone, but it certainly won’t be the last.

Steve cries silently in the school nurse’s room. His father hated it when he cried, always told him to man up, to grow up, to act like a Harrington.

He tried to keep the tears in, he really did, but his arm is throbbing and his wrist is turning a funny colour and he wishes he’d taken Tommy up on his offer to sit with him and wait for his mom to turn up but he’d wanted to be tough, tough like his dad, and he’d told him he wasn’t a baby and he’d be fine.

So, while he loses the battle against the tears cascading down his cheeks, he stays tight-lipped and quiet.

His mom arrives eventually. Steve sits there, clutching his wrist across his stomach as the nurse explains to Janet Harrington what had happened, that Steve had fallen in P.E, that the bone was definitely broken and he needed to go straight to urgent care.

Janet nods. Turns to Steve, expression tight and unreadable, and gestures quickly for him to follow her out to the car.

Steve quickens his pace behind her, little legs carrying him along behind the click-clack of her heels.

He reaches for her hand with his good one.

Knows he shouldn’t, knows he isn’t supposed to keep trying to touch because he’s a big boy now, he doesn’t need to be held and coddled anymore.

But he’s hurting, and he wants his mom.

She tightens her hand around his almost in surprise, squeezing sharply.

“For goodness’ sake, Steve,” she hisses, dropping his hand again like it’s something bad, “do you want all your friends to see you like this? Act your age.”

Steve snatches his hand back to his side. Blinks through the new flood of tears in his eyes, swallows thickly, keeps his gaze on the hard tiled floor.

He’s eight years old, and his mother doesn’t want to hold his hand.

*****

He’s fourteen years old when his grandma dies.

Smoking with Tommy behind the bike shed at the school, they are quieter than usual.

The funeral is this weekend. Steve’s never been to a funeral before.  His mom ordered him a suit the day after they got the news, the reality of it barely sinking in before he was being stood in front of the mirror in the store while a man wrapped a tape around him, taking his measurements while his mom tapped her foot behind him.

He wonders what will happen when his parents go away, now that he can’t go and stay with grandma. He’ll miss her. He’ll miss her like hell.

No more baking, no more helping her plant flowers in her sunny backyard, no more taking slow walks to the park with her little yappy dog.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters eventually, stomping the butt of his cigarette into the dirt.

“Huh?” Steve asks, not looking up.

“You know. About your grandma.”

“Oh,” Steve waves a hand, cigarette between his fingers. Nonchalant. Unemotional. Harrington. “S’fine, she was just some old lady.”

Tommy sniffs, raises an eyebrow. “It was your grandma, man.”

Steve shrugs, forces a smirk. “Reckon she left me anything in her will?”

He burns as he says it.

He doesn’t want money. Doesn’t want things. He just wants his grandma back.

Tommy snorts out a laugh, shakes his head, punches Steve lightly in the shoulder. “You’re a dick.”

Steve takes a long drag on the cigarette, blows the smoke out towards Tommy’s face. His friend swears and shoulder charges him, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and the two of them start to wrestle.

Here, with the stench of tobacco on his breath, grunting as he tightens his grip on Tommy and shoves him roughly aside, Steve thinks this is the closest he’s been to a hug for a long time.

A silent tear tracks down his cheek, and Steve wipes it away before Tommy can see it.

He’s fourteen years old, and his best friend would rather punch him than hug him.

*****

He’s seventeen years old and in love with Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy holds his hand, sometimes. She kisses his cheek, smiles shyly when he wraps an arm around her waist, lets him touch.

But only sometimes.

And that’s ok, Steve thinks. He knows he can be too much, that he asks for too much, that ever since he was a little boy all he wanted was for someone to hold him, and now that he’s older, to hold someone in return.

He had to keep that in check. Had to keep his touches few and light – just a brush of his thumb over Nancy’s hand where he wanted to interlock their fingers, where he wanted to squeeze her tight to his chest and burrow his head into her shoulder and turn himself inside out for her.

He dreams about the creature that came out of the wall, sometimes.

Wakes up sweat-drenched with his pulse galloping, feels across the bed for Nancy’s hand because he keeps sneaking into her bedroom at night to sleep because he can’t handle being on his own right now.

She wakes. Holds his hand briefly, tells him it was just a dream, rolls over, lets his hand go. Faces away from him.

Steve tells himself it’s fine. His heart is still pounding, he’s still trembling slightly, but it’s fine.

He wishes Nancy would hold his hand a little longer. Wishes she’d tuck herself closer to him, press her lips to the back of his head, hold him until he’s able to fall asleep again.

But he’s a man now. He’s a Harrington, and he doesn’t need to be held.

Nancy had nightmares sometimes, too.

She’d cry out in her sleep, and Steve would carefully wrap an arm around her, murmur into her ear, tell her she was safe, that he had her.

When Nancy woke, she’d push him away. Tell him she needed to breathe, that she needed some space.

Steve tried to give her space. Tried other ways to try and help Nancy feel better – then came Tina’s party, then came the drink staining Nancy’s top and a cold bathroom and bullshit.

Steve was seventeen years old, and his love was bullshit.

*****

Steve is nineteen years old, and he has the best friend in the entire world.

He and Robin are glued at the hip. She hugs easily, drapes herself across him, nudges him with bony hips and elbows and grabs his hand when the lights at Family Video flicker because she knows that still terrifies him.

Steve’s not used to it.

To having someone reach for him, to pull him into a hug, to voluntarily reach out and touch him like there isn’t something wrong with him.

And so, he never reaches for her first. Always lets her initiate contact, because he never wants to be too much, not like how he was with his mother, with Nancy.

She’s standing next to him at work now. Shuffling through returned tapes, letting out a bored huff, leaning back on her elbows on the counter.

The bell above the Family Video door chimes.

Steve doesn’t look up until Robin pokes him in the ribs, until she waggles her eyebrows at him.

“Look who it is,” she whispers, with zero subtlety.

He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Eddie.

Because they’ve been playing this game for a while, Robin doing her best to bring the two of them together, to nudge them from this painful will-they won’t-they situation into something more serious.

The truth is, Steve’s head over heels for the other man.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know where to put it, because he doesn’t want to half-ass anything ever again – if he’s going to love Eddie, he wants to do it with everything he has, but everything Steve has always seems to be too much for everyone else.

If he ruins what he and Eddie already have, this easy friendship, it would put a strain on his relationship with the kids too, and everyone had already been through so much, he couldn’t…

“Oh my god, dingus,” Robin groans.

Eddie’s wandered on past the counter after shooting Steve a grin, headed for the sci-fi section tucked away in the corner.

“What?” Steve huffs.

“I can literally see the little cogs turning in there,” Robin flicks her index finger against the side of his head. “For the sake of my sanity, just talk to him. Please.”

“Fine,” Steve harrumphs, tossing a case to one side. “But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you.”

Robin smiles wide, reaches for his hand, squeezes it gently, encouragingly. “Go get him, Stevie.”

Steve is nineteen years old, and he finally has someone to hold his hand, even if not quite in the way he’d been longing for.

*****

Steve is twenty-two years old, and sometimes he’s so overwhelmed by love for this man that it stops him in his tracks.

He’s draped across Eddie, the two of them on the couch with the TV quietly playing something in the background but Steve doesn’t hear it.

His head is on Eddie’s chest, ear pressed to his heart, listening to the soothing rhythm of his boyfriend’s pulse.

Eddie has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve, one hand tracing gently up and down his bare back, fingers tracing over moles and scars and the ridges of his spine.

Steve breathes him in. Presses his head further into Eddie, like he could burrow into him. Wanted to, sometimes.

Eddie’s chest vibrates gently as he chuckles.

“Y’ok there, Stevie?” he asks, and kisses the top of his head.

“Mmmm,” Steve manages, voice muffled by Eddie’s chest.

It had taken him a long time to realize that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.

In the early days of their relationship, Steve had been…restrained. Muted, afraid to overwhelm the other man, trying to carefully seek out where Eddie’s boundaries were, work out just how long he could hug him for, just how many kisses were too many, when Steve was starting to step over into being too damn much…

Three years later, and he still hadn’t found that boundary.

Eddie took everything Steve had to give him and poured it back tenfold.

He’d smile into Steve’s mouth when he kissed him, run his tongue along the seam of Steve’s lips until he let him in, he’d trace every mole and blemish on his skin with his fingers and then his mouth until Steve was squirming and laughing under him, he’d stroke and hold and squeeze and give and take.

Steve had so much love to give, and Eddie was hungry for it.

They’d been lying here for hours tonight. Skin to skin, Eddie warm and pliant under Steve, humming happily when Steve tightened his hold on him, when Steve’s breath puffed over his collarbone.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks eventually, hand resting in chestnut locks, nails scratching gently over Steve’s scalp.

“Yeah?”

“You ready for bed, sweetheart? You gotta get up early for work.”

Steve sighs, tucks himself back into Eddie’s chest. “Little longer?” he murmurs.

Eddie smiles. Lowers his hand to the back of Steve’s neck, massaging the muscle there, feeling the moment Steve sinks further into him.

“’Course, Stevie. As long as you like.”

Steve is twenty-two years old, and he finally has someone to hold him.

___

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲

ji changmin x gn!reader

1.3k words, est. relationship au, hurt/comfort, minor fluff but more angst?, a bit of silliness, mentions of work pressures, neck kisses, intimacy, mentions of playful biting, pretty much not beta'd or proofread (past my bedtime; written in an hour)

a/n: @kimsohn saw some of the goofiness first <3 ily (*breathes in deeply* idk what im doing guys. anyways, this belongs in the category labeled "i get yappy and sappy when im existentially exhausted")

In the dark, the clock on top of the oven screamed “3:22AM” in angry, red light. You stumbled past it, vision blurry and footsteps as quiet as you could make them against the hardwood. Your bones ached to the marrow and you could feel the blood throbbing violently in your skull; you could not sleep.

It had been three hours of tossing and turning before you completely gave up and slipped out into the kitchen. Usually, it wasn't too difficult for you to fall asleep, but alas, there would always be exceptions.

You managed to find the opened bag of tangerines on the kitchen counter, the orange, wiry mesh already torn from the last person who'd grabbed one to snack on. As your eyes grew accustomed to the dark, you dug your nail into its skin and began to peel it open.

Through your daze, you just barely registered the sound of the bedroom door opening—footsteps followed after and came closer; they weren't trying to stay quiet like you were, as there wasn't any reason to anymore. Hands patted you down from your shoulders to your arms until they could settle comfortably around your waist; his body slid flush against your back like a puzzle piece, still warm from being in bed. Hair tickled the underside of your jaw as he nestled his chin into the crook of your shoulder, the ghost of his breath fanning across your skin like a caress, relieved.

“Did I wake you?” You murmured, forcing yourself awake a little as you felt him lean more of his weight against you.

A low hum. “Bed got cold.”

The corners of your mouth tilted upward as you stuck a piece of fruit into your mouth—it was summer; the bed couldn't have been cold. Juice spilled over your tongue in a comfortingly sweet tang, and you went for another. “Sorry, love. Do you want some?” You asked, holding onto a piece of tangerine.

“Mm-mm,” Changmin hummed, shaking his head with a slight movement. You felt his arms give your body a squeeze. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice small.

You shoveled the remainder of the tangerine half into your mouth, hands reaching for another one to keep yourself busy as you chewed, then swallowed. “Tired.”

“Is it the thing?”

Just the thought of the thing—the project you were given charge of at work—made you wish the ground would swallow you up. Your hands stilled on the orange.

The project was the first you were given a manager role for, as they thought it appropriate because you came up with the idea, but it seemed to only be an excuse to overload you with every Herculean task they could think of. You were practically chained to your cubicle desk until day's end, only leaving to go to the bathroom and attend another god forsaken meeting. Where home was supposed to be for rest, you were often slumped over the dining table, stressing yourself silver.

The thought of Monday… no, you couldn't think of Monday. You'd gone so long working on this thing—how could they make you loathe an idea that you proposed?

At your lack of an answer, there came a small breath against your neck. His thumb gently rubbed your side back and forth, the ebb and flow of the tide. “I'm sorry, baby. I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you.”

“It does mean something,” you countered quietly, and moved one of your hands to place it over his that rested over your stomach. “I'm just—I hate it here sometimes.”

The two of you seemed to sigh at once, your chests raising up then deflating in tandem. It made the knots in your shoulders loosen for just a moment, and you could release some of the strain keeping you tight and awake.

“One more,” he coaxed lowly. “In—”

You both slowly pulled air up through your nose to fill the caverns in your chests.

“—Out.”

As all things came and went, so too did this breath.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips pressing something sweet against your throat.

You were too tired to cry, but you might have just then. Sometimes it was just a project, but other times it was everything to you. It was born from your two hands, your brains, your back, your bones. Plenty of blood, sweat, and tears had seeped into every proposal and presentation, but you could never tell if it was enough. Would it ever be enough?

Changmin's head shifted as you snuck another piece of orange past your lips. “Remember,” he said, “when we were in college, and I let you text girls on my Hinge?”

Your mouth sweetened into a smile at the memory. “It was only because I let you text the guy who'd given me his number.”

“He was so lame—he clearly just wanted you to go see that new Stephen King movie so he could hold your hand.” You could feel him roll his eyes in the dark, though his voice remained syrupy with sleep.

You held back a snort. “That's the point, hon. If I remember correctly, the pick-up lines I used on those girls actually worked.”

“Crazy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. You chewed on the next piece of fruit, swallowing it down before speaking again. “At least one of us has game.”

You felt the light pressure of his teeth against your shoulder, and you let out a surprised laugh. You didn't jerk away though—awfully used to your partner's strange language of affection—but you did push back against his forehead in lighthearted reprimand. “We talked about the biting.”

“Yeah, and you said you liked it.”

It was a good thing you didn't have fruit in your mouth. You warmed the slice of orange in your palm as you let the heat leave your cheeks and your neck. He could undoubtedly feel how flushed you were, and he seemed to preen at it.

“Gotcha,” he said smugly, and the smile on his lips molded against your skin as he left a kiss behind your ear. He nuzzled his nose there, too, fingers dancing along your side.

“I love you,” he said next. These words were quiet again. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You knew he meant the state he found you in—hunched over in the dark, eyes glazed over, and dread thrashing in your ears to fill the silence. The laughter that lit up your face just now had been his doing, his attempt at easing all of that burden.

You laid your head against his. “I love you, too.” You hated feeling this way, but some things had to be done. You had to see this one through, and you would.

“Don't run yourself ragged for this,” he said, as if reading your mind. “Can't let you lose yourself.”

The corners of your eyes prickled, your vision going blurry again. Your chewing slowed and you finished the last of the orange in your hands to clear the way for him to grab your fingers to intertwine them with his. He rocked your bodies slowly, dreamily—he was the gentle swaying of the waves beneath the raft you laid upon—and he was keeping you above water.

“Senior year of high school—” a miniscule break in his own voice, “—when college decisions came out… you didn't speak for so long, didn't eat. It was so quiet, and I—I didn't know how to help you.” Back then, the two of you were only labeled as best friends; you still hadn't decided if what you had back then was what you had now, but it was love in some form of the word and feeling. You supposed in every phase of knowing Ji Changmin, what you felt for him was love. “Can I help you now, please? How can I help you?”

You sucked in a breath and it came out trembling. “I'm just tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Just—that’s all. Just be here with me.”

You could feel his slight nod that turned into a tuck into your shoulder. Your pulse fluttered beneath the brush of his lips, his hands tightening around you. (I'm not going anywhere, not without you.)

In a night quickly dissolving into daylight, he held you and held you and held you.

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @kflixnet @bjnet

[laundrybiscuits]

Will’s looking at him with those tragic eyes, this kid who’s almost as tall as Eddie but seems centuries younger, infinitely more fragile and breakable. And shit, Eddie is not at all prepared to be some kind of queer mentor. He’s barely keeping his head above water with Robin, who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than a peer with a little more experience in his pocket; he’s a piss-poor option for baby Byers, who desperately needs some kindly gay Gandalf in his life. A role model with like, a long-term boyfriend and a city job and one of those yappy purse dogs.

But Eddie’s the only one here, and what else can he do? So he takes a deep breath and prepares to say something really wise and mentor-y. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but it’ll definitely be both appropriate and profound.

“I mean, it worked out for you, right?” says Will.

“Uh,” says Eddie, thrown completely off track. “What?”

“With—” Will flushes, but continues in a low voice. “You know. With Steve, and all.”

“What,” says Eddie again.

“I mean, sorry if that’s…I know you guys haven’t exactly been telling people, but…you know you can tell me, right?”

“Ahahaha,” says Eddie. “What.”

“I think it’s nice, how you guys managed to move past all the high school stuff and find each other. It’s like—a happy ending, right?”

“Right. I mean, wrong. I mean, whatever you think is going on, it’s not. Jesus christ, Will the Wise, there’s absolutely no way anything would ever be—where are you even getting this? We’re not—we’re not.”

“Sure.” Will rolls his eyes, and Eddie is reluctantly reminded that this kid can be a catty bitch too sometimes. “That’s why he was wearing your Black Sabbath shirt last Tuesday, and why you keep Springsteen in your glove compartment, and why his car is parked in your driveway almost every night. Dude, Dustin doesn’t even bother calling Loch Nora when he’s trying to find Steve now, he just goes straight to your place.”

Laid out like that, it’s a little damning.

“That’s—all out of context,” says Eddie weakly. “And—and Steve is straight, anyway. So. Check and mate, Byers.”

Will lets out an annoyed breath. “I’m sixteen, you know. You don’t have to—look, sorry if I’m pushing too much with this, but…don’t lie to me, okay? Friends don’t lie.”

Eddie’s heard the kids say that last thing every so often, like a mantra or some godawful affirmation. He huffs, shaking his hair out of his face.

“Y’know, that little catchphrase you’ve got isn’t the worst rule in the world, but it’s not the most nuanced, either. Ever heard of discretion, kid?”

“Right,” says Will. “Discretion.” He winks at Eddie, squinching the whole side of his face up like he’s never actually tried winking before, and Eddie is momentarily struck dumb with how terrible the effort is.

Just then, Dustin barrels in talking a mile a minute about some idea he needs Will for immediately, yes right now, Eddie’ll still be here afterwards, come on.

As Eddie watches them go, he awards himself one Gay Gandalf point for effort, and negative five million points for the trouble he can smell coming down the line.

(eta: I am a god damn liar. continuation here.)

[urhoneycombwitch]

Valentine’s can be a drag especially for those of us with seasonal depression so this one goes out to YOU, my loves. Take care of yourselves and here’s a lil’ Eddie escapism.

cw: depression, fluff, r referred to as girl. also r fits into Eddie's old clothes but in my perfect world everything always fits just right! <3

___

Eddie peers through your front windows, forehead pressed to the cold glass, seeing only a shadowed living room and hoping your elderly neighbor with the yappy little dog doesn’t come out to yell at him again. This is his girlfriend’s house after all, and it’s Valentine’s Day, he’s got a right to be here- even if he looks like a stalker while doing it. 

He’s just worried about you, truth be told- he knows you’ve been feeling low lately, that bone-deep depression settling around you like a cloud you can’t seem to shake. Thing is, Eddie’s great at getting you to cheer up, so he figured when you didn’t return his calls yesterday to make Valentine’s plans he’d bring the outing to you instead. 

He raps his knuckles on your front door again, calling your name in a voice just-below a shout- “Angel, will you let me in? I’m pretty sure my left toe has frostbite, might need you to check it out-”

His ramble is interrupted when the door creaks open, and there you are, his girl- dressed in soft sweats and a thick pair of socks, one of his old band sweaters hugging your frame as you blink in surprise.

“Eddie,” you start, a little unsure, and he realizes in the span of a few seconds that he’s got it all wrong. You look so worn out, like you haven’t slept in days, even worse than when he saw you last. 

His heart twists at the same time your gaze drops to the box of chocolates and VHS tape in his hand, and your voice comes out all watery and it kills him. 

“Oh, shit, Eddie. I completely forgot. I’m so, so sorry.”

There are tears swimming in your eyes now and Eddie’s desperate for them not to spill over; mindlessly he tosses all the shit that doesn’t really matter to the porch and steps forward to wrap you in his arms. 

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Please don’t cry. You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” he soothes, running warm hands up and down your back, letting you crush your face to his chest. “I’m the one who’s a dope for the holidays, but it’s only ‘cuz I love you so much.”

“I wanted tonight to be special,” you say tearily, shuddering breaths coming too quick as Eddie tucks his chin over the crown of your head and holds you tight. “But I’ve just been so… out of it lately and I lost track of the days and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, I’m serious. No more apologies, ‘kay?” Eddie pulls back just far enough to settle his hands on either side of your face, cool rings at your cheeks as he brushes away your tears. “If you wanna be alone, I get it, babe, we can make plans another-”

“No!” You’re quick to interject, hands tightening around Eddie’s waist. “No, please stay. I can’t promise I’ll be any fun…”

Eddie scoffs at this, rolls his eyes before leaning down to give you a chaste and sweet kiss. “Liar. You’re always fun. I have fun just lookin’ at you. Fun should be your middle name.”

A half-smile pulls at your lips, and Eddie counts it as a win. He briefly extricates himself from you to scoop up the stuff he’d tossed to the porch, offering you the heart-shaped box and the VHS of Dirty Dancing. “Be my Valentine?”

He accents this request with an eyebrow wiggle, which wins him one of your real smiles, and you pull him into the house. “Okay. Only if you’ll be mine.”

Eddie shuts the door with his boot. “Got yourself a deal, princess.”

Another small smile, there and gone in a flash but still enough to make Eddie’s heart swell. You take the tape and frown at it. “Dirty Dancing? I thought you hated Patrick Swayze. Something about his hair being too much competition…”

“You’re right, I hate the guy, but I love you and I know you love this movie,” Eddie counters, shucking off his jacket and toeing off his boots.

You smile fondly, reaching to run a hand through Eddie’s mane of dark curls. “Well, for the record, Pat’s got nothin’ on you.”

Eddie gathers all the blankets in your house and makes a cozy nest for the two of you on the couch; you cuddle up in front of the TV with the box of chocolates to share, Eddie’s arm wrapped snug around your shoulders as the swell of beginning credits plays.

By the time the movie’s over, you’ve both fallen asleep in each other’s arms, Eddie with his head tipped back against the couch and you on his chest. The wind bites against the windows, cold and unforgiving, but the both of you stay warm and comfy under tattered quilts and fuzzy covers.

It’s the best sleep either of you have had in days. 

[lgbtqasacrew]

Izzy x reader nsfw pls?

Summary: After constantly being at each others throats, you and Izzy settle your differences in the bedroom

Relationships: Izzy/gn!reader

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: 🔞NSFW minors dni 🔞

A/N: Sorry this took so long for me to get out, I hope it’s what you were thinking of

Ever since Izzy had joined the ship, you two have never got along. Constantly at each other’s throats about anything and everything. Which is why it’s surprising, or maybe it’s really not, that one night you find yourself pressed up against the wall of Izzy’s room with the first mate’s tongue down your throat. “This doesn’t mean anything” he growls as he pulls away.

“Just shut up for once” you retort pulling him back in for a searing kiss, you’re fed up of hearing his voice, always barking orders, telling you you’re not good enough, this is much better you think as you deepen the kiss.

Oh how he was easier to deal with when he’s not talking, and he’s a decent kisser. You’d half expected him to be a biter, but that might just be because he reminded you of a small yappy dog nipping at your heels. You watch as he begins to undress, untying the cravat around his neck, carefully folding it with the golden ring and placing it safely on his desk. You’d always been intrigued by that ring, you’d never have pinned him as sentimental, it must really be something really special to him. Not that you’d ever ask, not that he’d ever tell you if you did ask.

Izzy’s furious at himself, how had he let this happen. One minute he was berating you about how annoying you are, how you never listen to a thing he says. Now you’re in his room unbuttoning your shirt whilst he removes his own clothes. What had you done to him, he hated you, you were constantly getting under his skin, maybe he’s sick, yeah that must be it.

You’ll both get it out of your system and then everything will just go back to normal, he’ll give you orders and you’ll tell him to fuck off. You’re a decent pirate, which is as much of a compliment as he’ll ever give you, but your incessant need to talk back is grating. If you just listened to a simple instruction maybe he wouldn’t find you half as irritating.

He’s taken out of his thoughts by your naked torso, he must’ve seen it before, when you’ve gotten too hot on deck or when Bonnet made the whole crew have a beach day. But here in the close confines of his room, under the dim light of the candle burning on his desk, it’s something else. He has the sudden need to run his hand over your chest, what’s wrong with him, he really must be sick.

Managing to pull his gaze away from you, wouldn’t want you to think he was into you or anything, he takes his own clothes off, folding them neatly into a pile on his desk.

“Is that really necessary?” You quip, why did you always have such a problem with everything little thing he did.

“Yes” is all he replies before stepping towards you until you’re face to face “if you have a problem with that you can get out”

You put your hands up in mock surrender, which he uses to his advantage, taking your hands and holding them above your head as he pins you against the wall, his prick pressing into your thigh.

“Someone’s eager” you tease.

“Shut up” he growls before kissing you with fervour, just needing you to stop talking for once in your life.

Your lips remain connected as he slowly guides you away from the wall and towards the small bed that sits in the corner, pushing you onto it and straddling your thighs, his prick flush between you. He finds himself grinding against you like some sort of desperate animal, he feels pathetic but he can’t stop.

You can feel his prick against your stomach as he continues to grind against you. Taking a small vial from his bedside table, pouring some onto your fingers, you take his prick into your hand, it’s bigger than you’d expected.

He’s moaning into your mouth just from the small touch “mm you’re so desperate aren’t you?”

“Fuck off” he growls

“Fine guess I’ll just stop then” you remove your hand, sure you hear a small whimper from the loss.

“Not what I fuckin’ meant”

“Well you better be careful with what you say, don’t want me to get the wrong idea”

“Just fuckin’ get on with it” he grumbles

“Ask nicely” you demand, laughing internally at the scowl he gives you in return, that man thinks he’s so intimidating, but he never has been to you.

“I’m not-“

“Ask nicely, or I’ll go” you don’t think you actually would at this point but it would be nice to see him be polite to you just once in his life

“Please” he says through gritted teeth

“Good boy” you praise, delighting when you see a dusting of blush on his cheeks, so he likes praise, you shouldn’t be surprised really.

You can feel him shiver as you move your hand up and down his length, enjoying the weight in your palm. You trail kisses down his neck, brushing along the swallow tattoo before sucking on the gentle skin above his collarbone.

Izzy hadn’t felt this good in so long, he told himself it was nothing to do with you, nothing to do with the way you touch him, or kiss his neck as if he was something precious. No, it had just been a while since he’d had another person’s touch, he’s just extra sensitive that’s all.

Your touch was firm but with a gentleness he hadn’t expected but appreciates nonetheless, you weren’t rushing just to get it over with. You were taking your time as if you actually cared about his pleasure, but he must be mistaken, he knows you only view this as a quick exchange, one that neither of you will mention again.

Before he even knows what’s happening, you’re manoeuvring him off your lap and laying him on his back. “I want you inside me Izzy, is that what you want too?” you purr, sending a rush of heat through him, he finds himself nodding eagerly.

“Good” he watches as you lower yourself “Izzy you feel so good” he can feel his face getting warmer at your praise, what is wrong with him.

As if you know what effect it’s having on him, you continue to praise him “you’re doing so well Izzy, you feel so good” he’s getting close just from the praise alone, he feels pathetic, but also, he feels good, better than he’s felt in a long time.

With a couple more shifts of your hips, he releases inside you, collapsing into the mattress as intense pleasure courses through him. Barely noticing as you reach your own orgasm, collapsing beside him in your own haze of pleasure.

When he eventually comes back to himself, he feels good, more than good even, but he also feels a little disappointed, he knows that when he opens his eyes you’ll be gone. He should feel relieved, you’ve both got out of this what you wanted and now you can just go back to your lives. So why does part of him wish you’d stayed, wished that for once that someone had stayed, but more importantly that that person was you.

He almost yelps when he hears rustling in his room, opening his eyes to find you standing there in your underwear holding a cloth, you freeze as if he had caught you doing something wrong. “Sorry I just thought maybe you’d like to clean up, but I’ll go” dropping the cloth on the desk beside you and heading for the door.

But Izzy catches you both by surprise “It’s fine” he wants to say so much more, that he’s glad you’re still here, that the fact you care enough about him to want to clean him up is thawing his cold heart, but he can’t get any more words out.

Luckily those two words are enough for you, he watches with a small smile on his lips as you retrieve the cloth and gently clean him up. As you place the cloth back on the desk, he’s worried you’ll leave again, a small “stay?” manages to pass his lips, part question, part plea. Now he knows what it’s like to have something, he’s scared to let it go in case he never has it again.

You nod, climbing in wordlessly beside him, trying to keep a small distance between you despite the small size of the bed, as if you’re still scared he’ll chuck you out despite him being the one to invite you. He counts to sixty trying to find the courage to hold you like you deserve, it’s purely selfish really, a deep need to feel you in his arms.

Slowly wrapping his arms around you, giving you the chance to pull away if you please, but you don’t, you lean into the warmth, his chest now flush with your back. In that moment you both knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing.

[weixuldo]

Allow me// ch 4

Vader x Reader

a/n: Hello hello!! sorry for the wait! I will say that were entering more of the “x reader” content that I know most of you are looking forward to heh, but who doesnt love a good slow burn?? hah ty for reading :)

Your boss is not happy about your absence yesterday

warnings: Cannon typical violence, force choking, real choking (and not in the fun way lol), Death, implied death, cursing, anxiety

_____________________

“You never arrived at your posted station yesterday officer y/n, so where in the galaxy were you?!” your red faced manager shouted at you as he dabbed at the sweat forming above his bushy brow. 

“I was pulled aside to complete-” 

“I don’t give a fuck about who asked for your assistance, you report to me. And unfortunately your task was not completed yesterday so who do you think got chewed out? Me!” he huffed, not allowing you to finish your sentence. This was causing a bit of a scene in the semi-public hallway.  

If he weren't always like this, a passerby might think he was going to go into cardiac arrest. 

“Sir, I am truly sorry, but when Darth Vader himself asks for your assistance, you can't really deny him,” you tried to explain calmly.

The winded man in front of you let out a gargantuan laugh, “You're tellin’ me… Darth Vader? The most revered Sith lord in the galaxy… asked for your help?! Hah! You gotta be outta your mind little girl”.

“It is true sir, I didn’t get a chance to tell you after I finished because It was late and our wing was closed”.

“Oh yea, I'm sure you did get back pretty late” he laughed.

“Pardon?”

“We all hear what the troopers say about you little miss, surprised you didn’t take your knee pads yesterday, well with all that dick you’ve been sucking”

Wow, this puny man was really proud of himself, wasn't he. It was honestly disgusting.

“I do not think that is appropriate workplace behavior, sir” you tried to remain as cordial as possible; with basically the whole executor aiming for the target on your back, you felt like you had to be on your very best behavior all the time. 

“Yea, well in my department, I make the rules and since you carelessly neglected your duties yesterday, I’m giving you the highly acclaimed task of cleaning the restrooms in the communal sector, and once you're done with that I think I’ll give you a task all the way in the bridge” the man smiled a toothy grin before insisting time was “of the essence”.

The cool bathroom floor made you shiver as your knees hit the tile, you went through so much schooling and apprenticeships to do ….this. 

Wonderful.

To make it even better you had to keep the door open because the cleaning chemicals needed to be aired out or else they would be too strong; that gave your whole department the lovely view of your ass bent over the toilets, scrubbing away the grime.

It was humiliating, but what were you going to do? Defy your manager and possibly lose your job? No.

It was bad enough that everyone here seemed to hate you, why would you lose a decent paying job too?

You sighed as you heard some of your co-workers snickering;

“I bet that tile is uncomfortable”

“I wouldn't worry about it, she’s probably used to being on her knees hah!”

Finally, you reached the last stall and you were getting high off of the fumes of the cleaning materials. You felt gross and you were getting a headache, your boss didn’t even give you the health regulated mask to use as you worked with the chemicals. 

You were gathering up the cleaning bottles and rags when you heard the bustling of your office grow silent. That wasn’t normal, usually there were at least a few yappy voices gossiping about some dumb drama within the department. 

You were inclined to peek around the doorway of the bathroom, but you decided not to do anything that could get you yelled at…again.

Suddenly you heard a hushed voice, “He’s coming”.

At that, your senses heightened. Could it be?

Him. 

You had no reason to be excited for his arrival, after all it's not like you were in a fantasy story where he would whisk you away and make you his-

The familiar sound of the steel door sliding to the side filled the bay and in came those heavy boot steps, patterned breathing, and demanding aura. 

Darth Vader was here. 

“My Lord, how may I be of assistance” your boss bowed at the dark figure before him; his face finally cooled down from the bright red it was when he yelled at you earlier.

“I need to speak with one of your mechanics” the Sith spoke, surveying the room. 

“Yes, of course! We can get you someone right awa-’

“You misunderstand, General. I need one specific mechanic” Vader corrected.

“Oh! My apologies, who may you be in search of?” Your boss recovered his mistake, though you could see the redness creeping up the back of his neck again.

“F/N L/N.”

Did you mess up your details yesterday? 

You felt less worried for your safety then you once did because you had shared a few one-on-one moments with the dark lord.

But

His sudden appearance in your wing did confuse you. 

You peeked around the bathroom door’s opening and saw your boss nervously glancing at the bathroom door.

“Ohh, um, of course My lord…. Though might I add, if some repair was done incorrectly I apologize on behalf of the mechanic’s branch… she tends to do faulty work��� and we will deal with her accordingl-”

“Quite the contrary, general.”

The-now- red faced man blinked in surprise at the Sith’s words. 

“M-My Lord?” 

He stole another glance back to where you were. 

“What is in the bathroom that is so interesting that you cannot focus on our conversation?” The cloaked figure demanded as he made his way over to where you were. 

Quickly you scurried away from the entrance and went back to cleaning on the other end of the facility; You'd rather not be caught actively eavesdropping.

The Sith stomped into the bathroom with a determination that gave you butterflies. His helmet turned towards you before he commanded you to rise.

Oh… maybe he was frustrated with you.

Your excitement turned into uncertainty as you followed the man out of the restroom.

“Leave the bucket” he added, talking about the pail with all of the cleaning supplies and rags. 

You stepped out of the chemical filled bathroom and inhaled a deep breath of clean air; as you followed the flowing cape of the man in front of you, everyone’s eyes were on you. 

Vader suddenly stopped, causing you to almost run straight into his broad shoulders. 

“Would you care to explain why a mechanic of the empire was wasting time sanitizing the restroom facilities and not a cleaning droid?”

“Well, My Lord, she had not arrived at her posted work station yesterday, so we thought it best to punish her accordingly” Your boss replied with a nervous toothy grin. 

“Who approved that method, General?”

“Well- Umm” the shorter man stammered.

“Because I see no advantages to this situation. More work is delayed and the cleaning is less efficient”

Damn, he really just implied you didn’t know how to clean a toilet.

“Yes, Of course My Lord, My apologies… it will not happen again” Your boss profusely apologized.

“Very well. I am not pleased when workers take their own liberties when abridging protocol on MY ship” The Sith proclaimed irritably. 

The sleazy man cowered and stepped aside, allowing the cloaked Sith passage.

“Y/N, you are to come with me” Vader spoke, without turning to look at you.

Your whole body felt tingly as you walked behind him (and not in the fun tingly way…. More like dread). You weren’t used to him taking a demanding tone with you. 

You followed him out and his squadron followed closely behind you; the hallway was silent except for the shuffle of the trooper’s boots and the man’s breathing. What had you gotten yourself into?

Only around halfway down the hallway the man in front of you suddenly stopped, prompting you to halt abruptly behind him. You were so close that his cape brushed the tip of your nose before you took a few steps back. 

Vader slowly turned his head to the side as if he were sensing something. Was he feeling your fear?

The profile of his mask seemed more and more ominous with every second. 

You were about to ask him what was the matter, but before you could he walked past you back towards where you both just were. 

Were you supposed to follow him? 

He had already entered the room when you caught up with him. You weren't sure what he was doing, but you sure didn’t expect to see him choking your boss in the middle of the room.

The smaller man had no chance as the dark giant held him firmly in his gloved hand. It was almost sad how much your boss was struggling; he kicked his feet and clawed at Vader’s iron fist. 

“Would you care to repeat what you just said, general?” Vader questioned.

All the man could muster was broken chokes and gasps as his face turned bluer by the second.

“First you think you can change protocol and then you have the audacity to insinuate my business with one of your mechanics” he scoffed before dropping the man from his grasp. 

He fell hard with a thud and gasped for air.

Vader straightened his form and took a look around the room at all of the terrified workers.

“Do not be so ignorant as to think I do not hear your childish gossip on my own ship.”

Suddenly you realized what this was all about…

the rumors. 

Of course a mighty sith lord wouldn’t want to be talked about behind their back, especially if people were insinuating they were getting their rocks off, but there was a certain double standard among the men of the galaxy. It was seen as something to be proud of when a man would bed many women or have “sex slaves” (for lack of better terms). 

You really didn’t understand why he was so heated… was it because it was you?

A sudden wave of nausea washed over you; was he only disgusted because they were pairing him with you? Did he think you were that embarrassing to be associated with? 

Vader turned his attention back to the man on the ground.

“Pathetic” he huffed before turning back to the gallery of shocked workers.

“Let him be an example for you all” 

In a swift motion he turned his clench fist and the man’s neck snapped with a sickening crack.

Your eyes widened and you heard others gasp; you had only ever heard of the Sith’s capability, never seen it.

Vader turned on his heel and promptly left the room, strutting down the hall quicker than he was before; you were frozen for a moment, but then you hurried after the Sith. Hopefully what he needed you for would be something less… deadly. 

___________________________

The room was freezing and the fabric of your uniform was not doing much to help with the cold.

After the ordeal at your workplace, Vader brought you to a room that you had not previously seen. In keeping with the rest of the ship, the room was the rich obsidian that you grew accustomed to. There was a large seat in front of the window that beautifully displayed the vast view of space. 

Currently you were seated on a couch that was in front of the chair; much to your surprise it was a pretty comfy one.

None of the troopers entered the room with you and the Sith, so you worried this was it. You were going to die. 

He asked you to take a seat but then disappeared into another connecting room.

In his absence, you recalled all of your interactions with him, trying to figure out what grounds he had to kill you? Nothing you had done was out of line, it was more the mistakes of those around you… but what were you going to do, protest the Sith’s plans? 

You became sad when you reminisced on your feelings for the man… What a fool you were. You really thought that the cold and stoic man liked you. You thought you were connecting with him- and he even allowed you to drop formalities around him-

What went wrong?

You were too naiive, that’s what was wrong. 

Your nerves began to settle a bit when he hadn’t returned, it had been around two hours by now. Whether he wanted to play a cruel waiting game or not was becoming more and more irrelevant to you. 

You were sure your fate was sealed, so what was a few more hours? Plus you had a very emotionally taxing day and your lack of sleep was catching up with you. 

This couch was feeling more and more appealing and your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier…

Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt, you would just make sure to set an alarm on your watch for you to wake up. 

yeah… just a quick-

***

a/n: alrightyyy thank you for reading and if you guys have any questions about the pacing of this story or enigma, dont hesitate to shoot me an ask! Love you all :)

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06

[woso-dreamzzz]

i can't even word how much i love the second times the charm series it's always such a treat to see alexia so happy and in love and so goofy and loveable (and such a loser <3) the trope of alexia being loudly unhinged but r being quietly but equally as unhinged is definitely one of my favorite bits also the mentions of alexia and r when they were younger; it really drives home that they were childhood sweethearts and grew up falling in love with each other

some more comments from the past 2 parts of second time

quiet introverted alexia turning into yap city, population: 1 when it involves her biggest loves, r and nala is love, love, love

r indulging alexia's yapping every single night (lbr nightly walks with her sleepy baby and her himbo wife yapping her ear off is probably her favorite part of the day)

alexia keeping all of nala's stuff after her passing awww ;;;;;

the contrast of alexia doing something unhinged and trying to explain it at a mile a minute while r is doing something equally unhinged but describes it in 5 words or less lmao

alexia: don't be silly, keira why would i name my dog after fellow woso legend Christine Sinclair when i obviously named him after my kitchen sink

himbo alexia being the bane of mapi's life is the funniest running joke ngl

maya trying to look after r in the beginning awww she's only 2 years old and already taking after alexia lol

alexia distressed over all the minor hiccups her family had to deal with throughout the entire week is so cute she's such a cutie pie

alexia /would/ get sick out of sheer solidarity and empathy for her loved ones lmao

lol at lady also being worried for r i love how everyone in this family loves and cares for each other so much even the dogs

just realized you still haven't named the other puppies yet maybe salt, pepper, paprika? (kitchen-themed but also they're blues clues characters)

i love how whenever something nice happens to alexia she's just so confused? like ??? something good?? happened? to ME??? like yes!! you deserve everything good in life <333333

sorry this got so long but yes, i have much love for this series since day 1 and I'm so glad that it's grown so much in such a short time!

These are my favourite kind of messages to wake up to!!!! ❤️

Yappy Alexia is my favourite kind of Alexia. She's so calm and composed and focused on the pitch and at training but as soon as someone brings up her wife and kid, suddenly she's talking everyone's ear off until someone makes her stop

Alexia and R just balance each other out. They're both as unhinged as each other but only one of them is super obvious about it

Is there where I confess that Sinky is only named Kitchen Sink so I could make that joke about Sinclair? 🤭

Maya is really growing up to be a little Alexia. She adores R so much and will also break out into sympathetic sickness like Alexia does just because her Mama is sick

Second Time's Alexia just deserves the world and her wife is determined to give it to her

[generational-atrophy]

Can you do reader x main 8 with a hyper German shepherd who loves them. Maybe they try to be a lap dog even though they're they're not little anymore.

For context, let's say the dogs name is Lucy.

(Hetalia Main 8 X Reader) S/O with a Big, Hyper Dog!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N anon this is very specific. Do you have a hyper german shepherd. If so. Please send pics. Also sorry that this is shorter. Its very. Again. Very specific djhksgkjh

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

ALFRED WOULD LOVE A SUPER HYPER BIG DOG. He is absolutely the type of guy to prefer huge dogs that could kill him over little yappy ones.

Plus, now he’s not the only high-energy one in the house! He even gets a pal to go on runs with. If anyone can tire out a dog, it’s him.

AND! He’s got a big lap. And no ability to feel uncomfortable. He is not realizing that that dog is too big to sit on him anymore. You’re gonna have to stop the dog yourself.

Arthur, on the other hand, is not a dog person. Much less of a big dog person. His house is small, he’s small, and his patience is too. Sure, he still loves the dog, but… not as much as the dog loves him.

Most of the time that you come home, your German Shepherd is just outside. And has been so for hours. Arthur just can’t stand the barking and the neediness. Even if it’s a little cruel…

That dog is never getting on his lap either. Never. He is way too much of a bony twink for that to happen. But that’s probably the one thing he’ll feel a little bad for.

Francis may not be incredibly excited at first, but he comes around quickly. Sure, they’re loud and a lot to deal with… but if they’re your family, he loves them too.

He’s willing to take them on walks and take care of them. But if they make a mess in their excitement, that’s your problem. God forbid they try to get on his lap too, they may be cute, but they’re also covered in dirt! No amount of cuteness can make up for that! Although… they are very, very cute…

Yao is fine with the dog… as long as he doesn’t have to take care of it. He’s a total “We’re not getting a dog, dad with the dog” kind of guy though. He’ll complain about how hyper the big puppy is while he’s sneaking them bacon from his plate.

That dog is always getting pushed off his lap though. He’s got old man bones! He doesn’t have the energy to deal with some big dopey dog taking over all his personal space!

That and the barking… he doesn’t have a lot of patience for a lot of noise either. Other than that, he adores the dog! He just won’t admit it.

Ivan is very fond of dogs! But… not super hyper ones. Not because he doesn’t like them most of the time, he just gets very overwhelmed by how much energy they have.

The moments when they’re just sitting on his lap are great, he absolutely adores how soft and loveable they are, but any other time? When they’re barking and sprinting through the house? He’s… he’s just too old for that.

Probably the only time Ivan is willing to go on walks with them is when you come along. He gets really irritated having to constantly pull them away from eating things. He’s not cleaning up after them either, can’t you hire someone else to do that?

Feliciano loves animals. Just, in general. No matter how they look or how they are. He’s definitely getting tackled by that dog the first time he meets it. Don’t worry, he won’t even be upset. All that means is that he has a dog on him, which is always good.

There’s no way that dog is getting onto his lap, but he compromised by laying on the floor and hugging it. Plus that makes them less hyper, right? Right?

If not, that’s fine also. Feli isn’t that bothered by excitable dogs. They’re kind of like him in a way, so how could he get mad at their loveable faces?

Oh boy, that’s Ludwig’s favourite kind of dog! He, himself has had probably a hundred dogs over the years, and he just adores the excitable ones. Plus, he’s a great trainer, so he has no problem dealing with misbehaviour.

If you need a calm day off, he’d love to take the dog out for you, tiring it out so it won’t cause you too much trouble. (And then he can have it on his lap all afternoon with no issues, but that’s totally not the real reason he did so.)

Speaking of which, he also loves having it on his lap. He gets stars in his eyes whenever your dog clambers onto him, taking up his whole body and half the couch. It’s adorable.

Oh jeez. Kiku is gonna panic really fast. He wants to give your dog as much attention as it needs… but he doesn’t have the energy! You’re gonna have to assure him constantly that he isn’t neglecting them, they’re just way too hyper.

Half the time he’s home, he’s chasing the dog around the house and desperately trying to get them to calm down. Whenever the dog tries to climb onto his lap, he tries to oblige but… he is just not big enough of a person. That part makes him pretty upset.

Even if he can’t keep up with the dog, he loves it endlessly.

[scarlet-fantasies]

🐶𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘵/𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦? (both bros)

Hi anon!

Sorry I’ve been so inactive but here it is. 😊

-Scarlet

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𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡

𝐼𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑖𝑛 --> 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

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© 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑡-𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑒𝑠 // 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑙, 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠. 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒. // 2021-𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡.

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::Eren::

I think it’s safe to say that he already has a dog of his own.

However if he wants to get a pet with you it could possibly be another dog, but probably a small one that’s fluffy.

Or he might get a pet bird, like a little finch since they are not too much work and plus he thought they were cute at the store.

You two don’t plan on getting a pet.

It’s really that he buys you one as a gift and so it’s really yours but also becomes his.

If he got you a cute little dog that looks like Teddy bear he was probably replaced and he got jealous.

But not too jealous lol. Just a little bummed out. “I think she likes the dog more than me.”

If the dog is a girl and it’s yappy and small he’ll say it reminds him of you.

::Zeke::

He’s that guy that has many reptiles.

It’s concerning.

Like there’s no way he doesn’t have an iguana, snake/lizard, as well as a frog and a turtle.

If you’re too freaked out by it the pets he might give them away.

All though it you two are cool with it he will probably get a chameleon.

Although if you're not good with pets that are reptiles, he would probably get a cat with you.

He might even like getting a parrot.

He pretty much would find any pet cool to have.

Knowing Zeke, he’d go as far as adopting a monkey.

Overall any pet you’d get would definitely be out of the ordinary.

@bi-effing-simp @lucifugovs @xxghoulishspritexx @sp00ksic0la @keithandlevi-ontheroof @songbirdgardensworld @bubs-world

[jazzyblusnowflake]

i didn't know you like nsr, another jazzy W

Aaaaaaaa i was obsessed with nsr a long time back- it helped me through a pretty difficult phase of my life i swear 😭

the game got me more into EDM [ironically lmao] and also the character designs and world building is so cool to me like wtffff 😭💕💕💕

as typical as my gay poly ass is over here, my fav ships were mayzuke or mayday x eve x zuke idk- i just have a soft spot for partners/friends to lovers tropes, bite me-

my faves were def Eve, Sayu and Tatiana and lil Yinu was so adorable is2g- overall the stories, lore, plot twists and designs were all really enjoyable and even the crew behind the game are so wholesome and nice on the games socials!

the only thing that upset me a bit was how little substance and depth mayday had as a character- while literally everyone else had some sort of history or another. meanwhile mayday always felt like the annoying yappy background character that just moved along with the story even though she was supposed to be the main character- aka even though you knew why she was doing what she was doing it never felt like enough of an explanation for who she is and where she is at the moment as a character yknow?

anyway sorry for the ramble, i think the game deserves recognition and the art is just //cHEFS KISS- <33333

[leiflitter]

The Quotable Catton

Putting some of this one under a cut for NSFW reasons. Felix is a yappy fucker in more ways than one.

“Clean bill of health. Apparently I am a little deficient in vitamin D, but I'm sure you can help with that.” [...] “Also had a delivery notification, so how about I be a gent and carry those bags for you? And you can make a big fuss of me when we get back to the car for being awfully brave. I didn't even complain when they took my blood- well, complain much… Then, when we get home, I can stab you a bit.”

Chapter 53

“That's a risk I'm willing to take. I've got very good lawyers, Ollie.” [...] “They'd get me off, but I'd far rather you did, you little tease.” 

Chapter 53

“Eenie meenie miney mo, catch a tiger by it's toe, if he squeals let him go…” [...] “Cock out, boyscout.” 

Chapter 54

“Oh, come off it, Oliver. You think you're subtle? I see you looking, you know.” [...] “I know you're bent, mate. I must say it'd be nice to get a blowie from someone who actually likes cock.”

Chapter 54

“Don't play coy, Ollie, it's a cock. We both have ‘em, and we both know you're about ten seconds away from begging for me to stick it in one of your holes. What was I saying…? Oh, right. So. If Lu comes home and I'm balls-deep in your arse on the bloody dining room table, then what chance do either of us have of getting away with it? But… Well, that's what you want, isn't it? Fucking hell, are you always this much of a shameless slut, or is it especially for me?”

Chapter 55

“Ollie, you're too bloody sexy and it makes it very, very hard for me to be a twat to you.” 

Chapter 55

“Right. Where were we? I promise I'll be so impolite, Ollie… Alright. You're a shameless slut. Right.” [...] “That's… Oh, shit. Line, Olls?”

Chapter 55

“You can leave, you know. I'm just going to follow you. Easy peasy… and I think I said that you can leave if you get sick of us, so unless you're sick of me…”

Chapter 56

“Me and Ollie are up to his parents’ for New Years, so you can all have a ghost party if you'd like. No snogging any long-dead Cattons, Venetia, I don't care if you're dead, it's still incest. I, um. I miss you all.” [...] “I wish you could, you know, give me a call or pop back for a visit in the summer? If you can, then… Let me know, but not in a spooky way. I love you.”

Chapter 56

“Look, Olls, I know I'm not divorced yet, and it's been… a month since Oxford, and not even two weeks of you being here, but I want to. I'm sorry I don't have a ring and I'm not on one knee, and it's not romantic but I really, really mean it. How about it?”

Chapter 56

[bandydear]

Who's your favorite companion in Veilguard?

This is a great question. I've only just unlocked EVERYONE, so I haven't had much time with Emmrich yet, though I love him and Manfred.

Neve and Lucanis were my go-to party before the dragons were party poopers and Tevinter got blarsted (I was intending to romance Lucanis because he's a thoughtful and polite young man). Then, I switched to Davrin and Lucanis because I'm a misogynist (no, I just don't often gel with the Nerdy Yappy Bioware Ingenue--sorry Bellara, and I spent a lot of time with Harding in Inquisition) . Theennnn I recruited Taash and... sorry Lucanis. I was disappointed that they did The Thing again (wherein you pick a love interest with the same race/background as you and they spend the whole date heritagesplaining to you when you... should know that).

I tend to base parties also on attack styles. I play a rogue, so I usually keep a warrior and a mage in my party, though the classes for this game are a little more loose. Right now I'm playing with Taash and Davrin, because their banter is fun (though limited, I miss the amount of diverse party yapping from DAI and DA2, but maybe I just haven't played enough yet). I also like to go on missions with characters who fit the location/have interesting dynamics with each other. Like, I might take Emmrich and Bellara out for Fade Chores, and Taash and Davrin out for hunting beasties, y'know?

I do wish they disliked each other more. I miss the drama. I understand that not every game needs to have a team of haters (love you, DA2), I just miss feeling like a parent driving screaming kids to hockey practice sometimes.

Uh, but I guess companions in order? Subject to change as the game goes on? But how I currently feel: 1. Lucanis 2. Taash 3. Neve (except now she won't heal me :( ) 4. Davrin 5. Emmrich 6. Harding 7. Bellara

And for DA:I: (there were too many male companions in this game I just realized) 1. Cassandra 2. Varric 3. Vivienne 4. Sera 5. Bull 6. Dorian 7. Cole 8. Blackwall 9. Solas (hate u EGG)

DA2: 1. Aveline 2. Varric 3. Isabela 4. Merrill 5. Bethany 6. Fenris 7. Anders

[grimmweepers]

fragrance question for you!! why is it that scents like black opium are so popular? is it bc they're by big luxury brand YSL, or bc of hype? particular notes that work together??? I've been thinking really hard about getting it for myself as a christmas gift this year, but if there are scents that are BETTER (maybe a tiiiiiiiiiiny bit more subtle) I'd love to hear ur thoughts!!

ahhhh i love this question!!!!

i think ‘paying for the brand’ is so prevalent in shopping these days, and it absolutely extends to the fragrance world too. i personally believe that part of the hype for black opium is because it’s simply YSL, a luxury brand. and its image is marketed at being mysterious and sexy, which tends to sell quite well. being able to afford luxury brands is a huge feat! so logically, you would go for what generally does well.

that said, it’s not all about the name! staples like black opium wouldn’t be staples if they smelt terrible. i think part of its charm is its scent profile. i suppose it’s because the scent family of black opium is more ‘approachable’ and ‘well-rounded’. you’ve got your vanilla and coffee notes blended with a bit of floral and spicy which typically isn’t overpowering for the general user! (as opposed to notes like neroli or oud which some people tend to find polarising or ‘clinical’).

i’ve often seen people describe black opium as ‘addictive’ and ‘dark’ and with all of this into consideration, i completely understand the appeal. like… who doesn’t want a scent that makes people turn around and ask “who was that? a spy? a rockstar? maybe both?!” (knowing what i know about you, even if a little, i do think it’ll suit you. esp with your tattoos ><)

oh! and typically, more expensive perfumes have better ‘projection’ which refers to how impactful it is in a room. black opium will most likely last, i can tell you that much! she’s bold! and if you’re going to spend an arm and a leg, at least it’s worthwhile.

if you want something more subtle but you love how black opium smells, see if it in comes in roll-on or solid form. you get the scent but without giving yourself a headache. those forms are usually better for sensitive skin/noses too.

if you want suggestions for something similar, i suggest

alien by mugler - i believe it’s got that same vibe, only a bit softer. maybe a tad more on the ethereal side, rather than edgy but it’s unique (i personally like this one better than black opium)

coffee break by replica maison margiela - this is a nod to the coffee note in black opium. this one is unisex and lighter. it feels more relaxed. one of my close friends loves this one!

and this one is a complete wildcard but i just wanted to throw it in because of the unique concept. it might interest you! you by glossier - this one is actually meant to adapt to the wearer’s skin so whatever it smells like on you, could smell different on me. i’d describe it as clean and subtle. on me it smells musky and warm but on others, it can get woody or even powdery. super interesting if you want a truly personal fragrance!

IM SO SORRY I GOT YAPPY I REALLY JUST WANTED TO COVER ALL QUESTIONS 🫶 thank you for asking!!!! this one made me put my thinking cap on lololl