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notaplaceofhonour · 6 months

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it’s october 7th. you hear about the attack by seeing people you followed glorifying the terrorist attack—a massacre, a pogrom—as victory & justified resistance, glorifying a terrorist group that was founded with the explicit intent to kill your entire people

you make a post in which you make it clear you support palestinians and oppose the ways israel has wronged them, explaining that the terrorist group is still not good. you know you will probably get some flacc from the pro-Hamas side, but naively underestimate how much.

you get thousands of notifications on that one post, the majority of them hateful comments.

some of the response is positive. multiple messages thank you for the post, expressing bafflement that it’s controversial.

a few Israelis are upset at the loaded language in your post, but explain their problems with it civilly. you called Israel “apartheid”. they ask you what apartheid laws Israel has. you admit you honestly don’t know.

your inbox is flooded with anonymous hate from anti-Israel leftists.

over the course of a few weeks you have received hundreds of death threats, a dozen rape threats. people accuse you of being pro-genocide. you’re a literal Nazi. you’re racist, you thirst for the blood of Palestinians. you’re brainwashed by propaganda, a shill for The Zionist Entity. a few of the hate messages are from literal Neo-Nazis; the overwhelming majority are from leftists, many of them queer.

you are considering suicide.

you see footage of the october 7th attacks. you see footage of the bombings in gaza. you see footage of a Jewish man being murdered at an anti-Israel rally.

a popular creator you follow posts in support of an antisemitic hate group that masquerades as a Jewish organization. this organization regularly posts blood libel and other antisemitic rhetoric, works with groups that are even more explicitly antisemitic, including celebrating October 7th, holocaust inversion, blood libel, “Khazar theory” and others. more than one of the orgs they work with is pro-Putin.

your former roommate liked the post.

graffiti appears on a street you frequent that says “#freepalestine” and “end settler colonialism”

the boyfriend of the friend you spent most of the summer with makes his first post about the war. it’s a reposted comic that mocks and downplays the october 7th attack.

you doubt he’ll be receptive to criticism. he’s shared leftist memes about “monied elites” pulling all the strings and evangelicals being modern day “pharisees” in the past, and getting him to understand why that was antisemitic was like herding cats. you try anyway.

another of his Jewish friends also pushes back. he smugly dismisses her, tells her she’s falling for Zionist propaganda and uses several antisemitic tropes. you go off on him. he just deletes your comment.

you give up. you’re done. you block him.

you see anti-Israel posters and billboards around town

you mention what happened with the guy you went off on to his girlfriend—the friend you’ve grown very close to, who you’ve been listening to as she unburdens her fears for the future and complains about her bf’s BS over the last year. she doesn’t respond to you.

a friend of a friend shares posts tokenizing fringe groups that spread blood libel and have collaborated with holocaust deniers. you know they don’t know what you know, so you explain what those groups are. they seem somewhat receptive, apologize, and take it down

the next day they share several more posts that dip into antisemitic tropes. you mention this to your mutual friend, that you’re worried about them being radicalized. you’re not sure how receptive they’ll be to continued criticism

you have a confrontation with the foaf. in the meantime they’ve shared even more antisemitic posts. they say they didn’t mean to cause you distress but instead of stopping they effectively block you.

the “end settler colonialism” vandalism has been counter-vandalized with the words “commie propaganda” in place of “settler colonialism”. you don’t know if this is an improvement.

a month passes. the friend whose bf you went off on still hasn’t spoken to you. you see she shared a post defending an SJP chapter that posted Nazi cartoon caricatures of Jews repurposed in “Anti-Zionist” memes. you unfriend her on all social media platforms but you can’t bring yourself to block her number.

you see a friend of someone whose couch you surfed when you were homeless harassing Jewish celebrities with “Free Palestine” comments. you block them.

you’ve lost count of how many people you’ve unfollowed or blocked, or who’ve blocked you. friends, content creators.

when a friend takes an unusually long time to respond you worry if it’s because of your posts about antisemitism.

most of the podcasts, youtube channels, and other content creators you regularly engaged with no longer feel safe. you wonder who will be next

a couple friends wish you a happy hanukkah. you don’t celebrate much aside from lighting the hanukkiah and making some latkes.

you see posts about a destroyed chabad menorah, antisemitic comments on Jewish celebrities’ Hanukkah posts.

your neighborhood is covered in pro-Palestine & anti-Israel posters. some are seemingly innocuous, some are JVP “not in our name” posters. some call for intifada. “globalize the intifada” “Zionists fuck off!” “solidarity means attack!”

a man kills himself shouting “free palestine”. you learn about his suicide by seeing posts from several popular accounts you followed glorifying it.

you follow a bunch of jewish accounts on social media and commiserate with them about everything happening

your jewish friends post screenshots of the dead man’s antisemitic, pro-Hamas views. you look at his reddit and find even more horrific shit: anti-Ukraine posts. mocking Zelensky. “elites” are “lizard people”; the only named individual he calls a lizard person is Jewish. you start to notice a pattern: a lot of the people he dislikes just so happen to be jews.

several people you know share a post glorifying this man’s suicide. most are acquaintances, one is someone incredibly important to you.

you wonder how they would respond to your suicide.

you tell the close friend that shared this post how it scares you. you show them the receipts of the man’s antisemitism. their response is a single sentence. they didn’t know about the antisemitism.

they don’t apologize.

you notice none of your irl friends, even your closest ones, interact with your posts about antisemitism. you are able to vent to a couple friends, but no one has reach out to you

you try not to read into it. you try not to take it personally.

you haven’t slept well in months. you’ve always been an insomniac but not like this. you’re not sleeping until 4am, 6am, even 9am. even when you get to bed at a decent hour and get a full night’s rest it takes you hours to get out of bed.

a few weeks go by. the friend with the single sentence response shares a post saying they’re excited and proud to join a group to help palestinians. you’re excited and proud for them.

a couple days later, they share a post about a fundraiser to help a palestinian family get out of gaza. you note to yourself this is a much more effective & less concerning form of activism than the pro-suicidal antisemite post.

your friend shares another post about the fundraiser. it’s a joint post between their group and another group.

you open the other group’s page

the page is just a wall of signs from rallies. you swipe through one after another: “from the river to the sea”, “by any means necessary”, justifying/denying the atrocities of october 7th, calling for violent revolution. anything done in the name of resistance can’t be terrorism, all Israelis are terrorists. Jews aren’t indigenous; they’re white colonizers. holocaust inversion. other vile, thinly veiled violent rhetoric

you feel sick to your stomach imagining talking to your friend about it.

you already feel like you’re burdening the few friends you can talk to about this. you already feel like you think about it too much, talk about it too much. but you can’t not think about it; it affects every aspect of your life.

you’ve filtered out relevant keywords on more than one social media site to avoid the worst of it. some still manages to leak through.

there isn’t a single friend you regularly interact with that you don’t fear the moment when they will switch from listening to your concerns to seeing you as the evil zionist or indoctrinated hasbaranik they’ve been warned about.

it’s not an irrational fear. it keeps happening. you knew it would then, and you were powerless to do anything about it before, and you continue to be as it happens again and again.

you don’t know what to do about any of it.

#idk just kinda wanted to document what this has been like all back to back #I know some of these on their own might come across as not that big of a deal but all together #they add up #tw for the all of it #cw trauma dump #antisemitism #i/p #tw suicide #tw suicidal ideation #tw death threats #tw rape threats #tw october 7th #tw terrorism

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lalunalando · 5 months

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The Love You Want - LN4

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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff (may make you cry a little), angst, swearing, slight degradation, thigh riding, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

songs referenced: The Love You Want - Sleep Token / Granite - Sleep Token

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2 years.

It’s been 2 whole years since the love of your life walked out your front door after telling you it was over, he couldn’t handle the relationship alongside his career anymore, and that he never actually loved you.

So imagine the surprise you felt when you stepped out of your apartment elevator after returning from a long day of work, only to find him sitting at your door, a basket of dog toys and a bunch of your favorite flowers in hand…

“Lan? Wha-When did you get here? What are you even doing here?” You asked, shock evident on you face as you stood frozen like you’d seen a ghost.

“Oh thank god you didn’t move! I was hoping I wasn’t waiting outside some random apartment and about to scare a stranger” he chuckled, the sound that once felt like home to you now leaving your stomach feeling instantly nauseous.

“Lando, don’t avoid the question. What are you doing here?” You huff as you brush past him, opening your apartment door finally and stepping inside to put your belongings down knowing this probably wasn’t going to be a quick conversation by any means.

“Do you mind if I come in? This really isn’t a talk I want to have out here in the hallway..” he asks awkwardly, gauging your reactions and movements, expecting you to even slam the door in his face after the last time you both spoke. He deserved that, he knows it, but he really hopes you’ll let him in because he has so much he wants to say to you.

You move out of the doorway to let him through with a sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed, twisting at his heart knowing he’s at fault for how this is making you feel.

After closing the door behind him, you turn around and nod towards the dog toy basket with a confused look.

“Oh, I was hoping the pups were still here to give them to, I miss our kids…” he says as he looks down at the floor, suddenly wondering if it was still okay to call them “ours” as if he didn’t walk out on you all.

“They do, they’re just having a play date with the neighbors while I was at work, they’ll be dropped off in an hour” you respond as you head to the fridge, suddenly the bottle of wine in the fridge is seeming very tempting to crack open… “so Lando, I’m going to ask one more time, what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can get out in the moment, he knows there’s a million other things he wants to say, but he froze, and that was the basis of why he was here anyway.

You freeze, halting the glass of wine you were currently pouring, and just stare at him blankly.

“Right, yeah, I should probably explain a little more than that” he laughs nervously while scratching the back of his neck. “Alright, well, I fucked up. I should never have walked out back then, I should have never said you were too much of a distraction to my career to be with and more than anything I should never have lied and said I never loved you.”

“Lan, it’s been two years, why now? Where is this suddenly coming from after two fucking years of no contact whatsoever? And why do you think I want to even hear it? What if I’ve moved on.” It all comes out before you can even stop yourself, the hurt and anger you’ve been keeping in since that day making you see red.

“I never stopped thinking about it, about you. I thought I couldn’t handle being away from you all the time and that you wouldn’t want to wait around for me all the time, but after every race I still just want to come home to you. And I know you haven’t moved on because the love we shared was once in a lifetime, I’m still full of the love you want, please just let me prove it to you. You can tell me you don’t still love me and I’ll leave you alone for good, and maybe you believe that in the end you will be better off that way, but I’m begging you to give me one more chance and I’ll be full of the love you want, no matter what, forevermore.”

By the time he’s done speaking, you both have tears in your eyes.

It was never truly over, you knew you could never stop loving him, no matter how much it hurt you.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re rounding your kitchen bench and closing the space between you both.

Desperate to feel his lips on yours and make up for the two years lost, to show him the love you harbored for him never left.

And boy, did he feel it all.

You needed more of him, you knew it was pathetic of you to fold so quickly but you’d already lost two years and didn’t want to waste any more of it, and when he wore that god damn playboy hoodie you always said you loved seeing him wear, there was no point denying how much you wanted him still.

“I hate that you still have this affect on me, I hate that I never stopped loving you, but most of all, I hate that you’ve still got me in a chokehold”

That confession is all he needed from you before he’s picking you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the familiar hallway to your room that he’s traveled so many times before, but with a newly found appreciation for all the pictures along the walls that you could never find it in your heart to switch.

As he throws you down on the bed and climbs over you, eyes blown and full of lust and longing, you can’t help but to admire him.

The gorgeous everchanging eyes, his adorable freckles and moles, and a slight beard he was finally able to grow after years of being teased by the other guys on the grid.

His lips are instantly back on yours, taking all the air out of your lungs and replacing it with his own as if it was the only way you could both live from then on.

You tug at the hem of his hoodie as his hands slide up your thighs to the edge of your skirt, both not ashamed of how fast you need the others clothes off.

Only pulling back for a second to take his hoodie off, his lips are immediately back on you, only finding their way down your throat this time.

Biting just hard enough to make you yelp, he’s instantly soothing the pain as he laps his tongue over the spot, causing you to whimper like the desperate little slut you always were for him.

Hands continuing their mission up your skirt, an almost animalistic growl comes from his throat as his fingers find the lace of your thong, completely drenched for him already.

“Always so ready for me baby, god you couldn’t be more perfect, you were made for me just like I was for you.” His voice filled with lust and love, reminding you that you will always be his.

Flipping you both over and settling you on his lap, he can’t help but want to draw it out a little longer, tease you a little more, make you beg for him.

You grind down on his lap, desperate for even a little relief, because as much as you hate to admit it, no one in the past two years has made you feel even remotely the way he does without even trying.

You’d had your fair share of fixes throughout the two years, using many men to your advantage to try and get over him, but none of them even came close to making you forget. No one did it as good as him.

“Someone is still just as needy and desperate as always huh?” You can feel the smirk even though his lips are against your neck, making you whimper again, just proving his point. “Do you want to show me just how much you missed me too? How good you can be for me?”

“Please Lan, need you, will do anything but I need you”

He laughs, and you know he’s got something sadistic and borderline humiliating in mind, but you don’t care because he knows you’ll do anything for him, you always will.

“Such a good girl, can you straddle my thigh for a second baby?” He says with a smirk you know means trouble.

You do as he says, and shift over to his thigh, giving him a look of confusion as you wait for his next instructions.

“Now baby, I want you to ride it.”

You gasp, this was new for the two of you but you couldn’t deny that it excited you a lot to try.

“I want to see how desperate of a slut you can be for me, I want to watch you get yourself off with nothing but my thigh.” He breathes into your ear as his hand hold your hips, helping you find a stable rhythm.

You can’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth, and he wouldn’t want you to even if you could.

If Lando could listen to one thing on repeat for the rest of his life, it would be your sweet moans that only he can get out of you time and time again.

As you get louder and start stuttering your rhythm on his thigh, he knows you’re getting close.

“That’s my girl, come on, cum on my thigh and I’ll reward you for behaving so well baby”

That was enough to send you over the edge for what would be the first of many times that evening, screaming his name loud enough that you were sure the whole of Monaco could have heard you.

Still coming down from your high, he doesn’t give you a second to recover before he flips you back down onto the bed as he rids himself of his now ruined pants before pulling your own ruined panties off and climbing straight back over you, claiming your lips once again.

He doesn’t want to wait anymore, watching your angelic face as you came around his thigh was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He couldn’t lie, he’d obviously been with a few women as well over the last two years while he tried to forget you, but he could never forget you, no one could ever compare to his girl.

Leaning over to your side drawer to find a condom where he knows you both used to keep them, he comes up empty and a little confused.

“I got rid of them, I never brought anyone over anyway.”

And it was true, you always went to your flings places instead, you couldn’t stand the thought of them ruining the memories shared between you and Lando in that apartment, in that bed.

“Do you want me to go grab some, i can run down t-“

“You don’t need it, i trust you.”

He stared at you in shock, he could count on one hand the amount of times you’d allowed him to go in raw before, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

He didn’t have to think much longer, your hand reaching down to tease his already painfully hard cock was all the confirmation he needed that you were serious about it.

Swiping his tip through your wet folds to help lube him up, he lines his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes in.

Seeing you slightly wince as you readjust to his size, he’s quick to worry.

“If you need me to stop at any point please just tell me” he says in a hurry.

“Just need a sec Lan, i forgot how big you are…” you said with a whimper, not missing the smirk that flashes across his face.

After a few seconds to get comfortable again, you’re urging him to move and he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

Slowly fucking you with more and more of his cock with each thrust until he’s bottoming out, he can’t help but moan at how you feel around him.

“Baby I’m not going to last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, feel so warm and tight around my cock, this pussy was made for me”

This has you clenching around him again, drawing out the most feral growl you have ever heard from the man.

In an instant, he’s pulling out of you much to your disappointment, only leaving you feeling empty for a moment while he flips you over onto your front and pulls your ass up, digging his fingers into your hips so roughly that you’re sure there are going to be bruises in the morning.

Good thing he knows you love being marked up by him.

As soon as your ass is up, he’s quick to shove his cock back in, not giving you a moment to adjust as he starts mercilessly pounding you from behind.

This new angle somehow hits deeper, feeling him hit your cervix wall over and over again, mixing pain with pleasure and making you scream for him.

“That’s it angel, scream my name, tell everyone who’s making you feel this fucking good”

As he continues his brutal punishment on your pussy, winding a hand around your front to use his always skilful fingers to rub tight circles on your clit and help you chase your high, he feels your walls start to tighten again as your legs start to shake and knows his won’t be far behind.

“Where do you want me to finish princess? I want you to cum on my cock like the good girl you are but i won’t be able to last much longer” he grunts as he continues his rough pace, getting sloppier with each thrust as you tighten more and more with each one.

“Fill me please, need to feel you inside of me, this pussy is yours and only yours” you pant out, only fueling him to get rougher and faster, pushing you over that edge.

“Scream for me baby, i want all of Monaco to know who you belong to” and with that, you’re seeing stars. His name being the only word on your lips over and over again while you clamp around his cock, feeling his release only seconds after your own as he bites your shoulder to muffle his own moans.

You lay there for a while in pure fucked-out bliss, Lando having moved to be beside you and move your head onto his chest while his arm is around you playing with your hair.

“So, what does this mean for us now?” You have to ask, as the doubt starts creeping in again.

“I know i have a lot to make up for but if you’ll have me, i want to be yours again. I want to stay over whenever you’ll have me here, i want to fly you out to races with me when you can, but mostly, i want to show the world how much i love you, show them what I’m doing this all for at the end of the day”

Tears start welling in your eyes, and all you can do is nod before kissing him again, showing him all the emotions you can’t verbally say right now.

Just as the kiss starts heating up for another round between you two, a loud knock on your front door interrupts the moment.

“Cunt” is all Lando can say in frustration, making you laugh before getting up and pulling your panties back on and chucking his playboy hoodie on to cover you so you can answer the door to the intrusion.

As he lays there and waits for you to return, he can’t stop smiling and thinking about all the ways he plans to make everything up to you.

Maybe a ring in the near future, to show how serious he is and always has been about his angel…

Before he can think much longer, your two puppies come bouncing into the room looking for him, having smelt his familiar scent the moment they got home.

He can’t stop the wide smile from forming on his face, this was it.

This was home, and he never planned on leaving again.

As you stepped back into the room, you couldn’t help the smile forming on your own face.

The boy you loved with every fiber of your being, squealing while being attacked with kisses and jumped on by your fur babies. Your joint fur babies. Your little family was whole again.

Walking over to him you stop before him on the bed, him reaching out to pull you down onto his lap as you sigh happily.

You turn to look him in the eye and hold his face gently, you were glad he was back.

“What are you thinking now babe?” He asks, seeing the all too familiar look in your eyes

“I was more than just a body in your passenger seat, and you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet. I see you go half-blind when you’re looking at me. I love you Lan.” Kissing him again, sealing all your feelings and fate, giving yourself over to him for good.

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thedensworld · 11 days

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Location App | C.Hs

Pairing: Vernon x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: You finally found the right function of the share location apps

Vernon isn’t a man of many words—he’s a man of action. He doesn’t tell you to quit your job at the event organizing company or give up your dreams of becoming a writer. Instead, he quietly hands you an allowance and pays for a writing course, making it clear that he's got your back. He even takes it a step further by personally checking in on your progress almost every day, making sure you're staying on track.

When it comes to food, Vernon doesn’t bother asking about your favorite dishes. He just brings everything you could possibly want to the table. You might crave vanilla ice cream tonight, but he’s already stocked up on both vanilla and chocolate for tomorrow’s cravings, always anticipating your needs before you even voice them. And each time, your heart swells with gratitude for the way he cares for you.

Vernon isn’t one to hang out much, either. Even when he does go out twice a week to catch up with his friends, he never stays long—two hours at most before he's back home. Without missing a beat, he slips into your arms, eager to share everything about his day, all while showering you with the little tokens of affection he picked up for you along the way.

“What’s wrong?” Vernon’s voice breaks through your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

You blink at him, raising your eyebrows in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem restless. Are you in pain?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

Every time he instinctively picks up on how you’re feeling or goes out of his way to make your life easier, you find yourself wanting to kiss him right then and there, overwhelmed by how effortlessly amazing he is as a boyfriend.

“What’s this?” you asked Vernon as he showed you an app he had just installed on your phone.

“It’s a shared location app. I’ll always know where you are, and you’ll know my location anytime you open it,” he explained, his tone casual.

Ever since you joined a writing course last year, you’ve started attending small gatherings with fellow authors, usually at libraries or cozy cafes.

“Since you’ve been going out more without me, I just want to make sure I know where you are,” Vernon added, his eyes glancing at yours for a reaction.

“You could always just text me,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“I know,” he replied, “but sometimes it’s better if you can have your day off without feeling the need to update me constantly. You should have fun and not worry about checking in.”

In the beginning, you found yourself using the app frequently, but after a few months, it slipped your mind. You could barely remember where the app was on your phone. Vernon, on the other hand, kept checking it now and then, making sure you were safe when you weren’t together. He never intruded but would casually ask about your day, subtly referencing the places you’d visited.

“How do you know?!” you exclaimed one afternoon when Vernon asked what you were doing at the flower shop near his work. You hadn’t mentioned anything because you were preparing a surprise for him.

“I saw your location this afternoon. I was surprised to see you so close by,” he admitted with a soft chuckle.

You grinned and pulled out a bouquet of flowers you had arranged just for him. “My friends and I attended a flower arrangement event, and I got these for you!”

His face softened, and he leaned in to kiss you. “Thanks, babe. I was actually planning to drop by and see you, but things got crazy at work. These are beautiful—thank you.”

With a warm smile, he kissed you again, and the simple moment of shared affection made you realize how much thought he put into even the smallest aspects of your relationship.

"Hey babe, I see you’re at the convenience store. Can you grab me a tampon and some sweets?" you called him, feeling curious after checking his location and noticing he was near her apartment.

“Yeah, I’m actually about to head over to see you and pick up your monthly essentials,” he replied smoothly.

"Babe, are you near the snack aisle? Could you grab me some chips, too?"

"Alright, love. Anything else?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"A milkshake, please? Hehe."

"Snacks and a milkshake coming right up," he said, humoring your request.

“Wait, you’re at Kimbap Heaven? Can you swing by the pet shop two doors down? Kiwi hasn’t been eating her regular dry food!” you called after you found out he was out around Hongdae.

"Send me a list of everything you want me to grab, and I’ll get it done," he said, always efficient and patient.

You smiled, feeling so lucky to have someone who knew how to make even the smallest errands feel like an act of love.

As the days went by, you found yourself checking Vernon's location more and more. It became almost a habit. Whenever you craved something or needed him to pick up something, you'd open the app, locate him, and call him with your requests.

One evening, you were lying on the couch when you checked the app and noticed Vernon was at the grocery store. Without hesitation, you grabbed your phone and dialed him.

“Babe, can you pick up some ice cream? And maybe a few packs of those cookies I love?” you asked casually.

“Already got the cookies in the cart, but I’ll grab the ice cream for you now,” he replied, used to your requests by this point.

A few days later, you noticed him at the mall. Your mind immediately went to that cute hoodie you’d been eyeing. You picked up the phone again.

“Hey, babe, I see you’re at the mall. Could you stop by that clothing store and see if they have the hoodie I wanted in stock?”

“Sure, love. I’m already near that area. I’ll check it out.”

It became a little routine—wherever Vernon went, you’d check his location and call him to ask for favors. He never complained, always happy to run the errands or pick up whatever you needed. You loved how he made you feel so taken care of, and he seemed to enjoy it too, never missing a beat.

"Where is he?" you muttered, surprised when you couldn’t find Vernon’s location on the app. His profile was completely offline, leaving only yours visible on the map. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be out with a friend, but that was over three hours ago, and he still hadn’t replied.

You didn’t want to call him. After all, you’d been asking for his help a lot through the location app lately. Maybe he had turned it off intentionally because he was busy, you thought, trying not to overthink it.

Just as you were about to distract yourself, the sound of your door unlocking caught your attention. Kiwi, your cat, sprinted toward the door, her sixth sense alerting her that only one person could be invading her territory—Vernon. Sure enough, he stepped in, holding Kiwi in one arm and a paper bag from your favorite bakery in the other.

You let out a squeal of excitement. "How did you know I wanted this?" you exclaimed, rushing over to grab the bag from his hands.

Vernon smiled warmly. "I saw your Instagram story where you said you missed the cake. I checked around and found a branch that still had some, so I picked one up for you."

Your heart melted on the spot. In a fit of affection, you scooped Kiwi from his arms and said, “Kiwi, listen carefully—Chwe Vernon is your only father. If anyone else claims they’re your dad, they’re lying!”

Vernon burst out laughing at your playful words, but then your mind drifted back to his location being turned off. Your smile faded into a pout as you looked at him.

“I couldn’t see your location today,” you told him, a little hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Ah, yeah, I turned it off,” he replied casually. “Why?”

“If I’d known you were on your way here, I would’ve asked you to grab some tissues,” you said, half-jokingly.

Vernon chuckled. "Tissues? I actually got you some in the car, i accidentally left them. I figured you were running low, so I picked some up yesterday."

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Thank you! You always think of everything.”

He smiled softly, stepping closer. “Honestly, I like surprising you like this, getting what you need or want before you ask. That’s why I turned off my location today. It feels more special.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling even more grateful for his thoughtful nature. He always managed to find ways to care for you in his own quiet, yet deeply meaningful, way.

"You want to get married, babe?" you asked playfully, your voice full of gratitude as you grinned up at Vernon. He let out a laugh, clearly amused by your sudden question.

“You want to marry me because of this?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Of course!” you exclaimed, holding up the bakery bag. “This is amazing! You shouldn’t underestimate your thoughtfulness and how considerate you are. It’s everything I could want.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Alright, then,” he said, leaning in closer with a mischievous smile. “Let’s get married.”

Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, you both stood there, the playful banter hanging in the air. But behind the jokes, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of what he’d just said linger, making the moment even sweeter.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #vernon fanfic #vernon smut #hansol vernon chwe #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon #seventeen hansol #hansol x reader #choi hansol

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ecstarry · 5 months

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@jegulus-microfic / football / 768 words / @bellaxisworld i love you

--- here's a little kiss cam brainrot <3

"But I hate football, you know this," Regulus reiterated to a very persistent Remus over the phone.

“I know, but Sirius can’t make it and he doesn’t want the tickets to go to waste. It’s just one game,” Remus remarked with a hint of something that Regulus couldn’t quite place.

That’s how he ended up at a Saturday sports match, hoping the players were hot; at least he would be entertained that way. He approached his seats and yelled Remus’ name, but someone else turned around: James.

“Reg? Why are you here? I thought I was meeting Siriu-” Regulus interrupted him, only a Potter could manage to insult him as he was greeting him.

“Nice to see you too James, well I thought I was meeting Remus. So you were also not who I expected to see.”

Before James could give a proper response, they both got a notification on their phone. Regulus looked at his screen to read Remus' quick text: Sorry, can’t make it. Have fun.

“I’m going to kill him,” Regulus mumbled.

“Sirius just canceled on me. I’m guessing you got stood up too?” James asked kindly, but only received a mean glance in response.

In silence, they took their seats. Regulus was beyond pissed. How could Remus do this to him? He thought for a second that they might’ve been set up, but he thought this ruse was a bit dramatic even for Sirius’ standards.

“Do you like football?” James asked, breaking the silence.

“Detest it,” Regulus replied tersely, still too upset to entertain James’ attempt at conversation. When his brother’s best friend asked if he wanted anything to drink, he simply declined in a polite and quick manner.

But when James returned with his favorite treats and a wide smile to his seat, he couldn’t remember what he was upset about. Regulus felt a discreet blush work its way towards his cheeks as James handed him his favorite candy.

“Sirius mentioned you liked this, so I figured that if you were stuck with me and in a place you don’t want to be, you might as well get a sweet treat, no?” James said casually, as if remembering someone’s favorite candy was nothing.

To Regulus, it was such a significant gesture, but he couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic by how such a simple token could make him feel so warm. If he was honest, maybe it had more to do with who was giving him that attention than the piece of candy itself, but that was not the time to process that.

The game continued, and to Regulus's surprise, he found himself having more fun than he had expected. While Remus would have been good company, James was captivating in his own way. Despite not being a fan of football, Regulus made an effort to stay informed about the current games. A fact that he deliberately kept from James as the other man’s eyes lit up explaining everything. He never expected to be so absorbed in James’ words or thoughts or lips or eyes or arms or smile...

Oh god, when did James Potter become so attractive?

“Regulus?” His name coming out James’ lips took him out his trace.

“Yes?”

"Kiss cam," James said, pointing at the screen in front of them. There they were, the two of them, with a crowd surrounding them, chanting for them to just kiss. Regulus felt as if seconds extended into hours as James's hand gently cupped his chin, his eyes silently asking for permission. An inaudible yes left Regulus's lips as the distance between them evaporated.

His hand instinctively reached for James' shirt, pulling him closer as if their lips touching was still too far a distance to bridge. He allowed himself this moment, the touch of an angel on a broken man. Every crevice of doubt within him was filled with warmth as James kept asking for more with his tongue. James parted slightly, and the absence of his lips made Regulus remember himself. Embarrassed, he started to pull away, but James held him tightly, his hands not leaving Regulus' face.

Regulus bravely opened his eyes to face the regret that was sure to be all over James’ face, but instead he found something else— something sweet and soft, something only honey eyes like James’ could convey. He was still light-headed from James’ touch, he couldn’t make sense of just how long he had been given access to heaven.

But the reality remained: he had just kissed James Potter, who seemed just as delighted to have kissed Regulus Black.

Maybe football wasn’t that bad.

more microfics here

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jeonscatalyst · 12 days

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I just realized today after thinking about things long and hard that most of the hate Jimin gets today especially within the fandom is because of his bond with Jungkook. When I say it is because of Jungkook I don’t mean that Jungkook himself caused it, I mean that Jimin being associated to Jungkook, having a bond with him, loving him and being loved by him is the one of the biggest reasons he gets all the hate he gets today.

The very first people who started with this insane hate against Jimin were taekookers who developed a hate boner for him and started sending him death threats as early as 2015 because according to them Jimin kept coming in between their ship. Things got go much worse for Jimin after GCF in Tokyo and after 2017 in general as we all saw a huge increase in Jikook moments (because they were together alot and not because the company was pushing a narrative that they were the closest) and a huge decline in taekook moments which made the cult go feral. That is when the vitriol and vile hate we see these people have for Jimin started.

Whether they want to admit it or not, majority of Taehyung’s fans within the fandom are taekookers or were at some point and that led them to hate him too and that hate continued even after some of them stopped shipping taekook and became solo stans.

Jungkook solos always had a hate boner for Jimin and I believe this is because they saw and still see what most of us see in Jikook and it makes them extremely uncomfortable and that is why they constantly project unto Jungkook by claiming that Jimin makes him uncomfortable and that Jungkook hates Jimin and that’s why they don’t like him but the truth is that, they are the ones who felt uncomfortable watching Jimin and Jungkook interact. Something about Jimin and Jungkook’s bond always felt “weird” to them and they could sense the things jikookers feel when they see Jikook interact and seeing as most Jk’s stans are Y/Ns who picture themselves with him and most of them are deeply homophobic, it makes sense that they would have a huge problem with Jimin. I mean they know about Jimin having his mouth on Jk’s neck long enough to leave bruises. They know about Jimin’s sweaty earlobes being in Jk’s mouth. They know about Jungkook choosing to spend many a nights with Jimin doing “nothing” so it makes sense why they are uncomfortable.

Without Jungkook in Jimin’s life, there would be no taekookers to hate on him, no Tae solos (ex taekookers) to hate on him and no JK solos to hate on him either.

We also wouldn’t have blinks so desperately hating on Jimin because we know that a good number of Jk solos are blinks who token stan Jk just to hate on Jimin and other members.

Me specifically speaking about the hate Jimin gets because of his affiliation to Jungkook doesn’t mean Jungkook also doesn’t get hated because of his bond with Jimin but everyone knows that the hate Jimin gets is tripple what Jungkook gets. Stan tweet in particular seems to have it out for Jimin and I honestly don’t understand why. They look for the least opportunities to hate on him and mass like hate posts about him and in those posts, we see all the other idiots like taekookers, jjks, tae solos and other solos who hate Jimin more than they love their own faves because they don’t mind liking and even rting a post from a hater who has also hated on one of their faves so long as that person is dragging Jimin.

So many times I have seen people say Jimin’s solo stans are the worst solo stans but I can honestly say that Jk solo stans are the worst and it baffles me how two people can love each other so much and yet have the nastiest fans who are at each other’s throats every single day. I say Jk solo stans are the worst because they are manipulative, deception and pure evil. Don’t get me wrong, PJMs are a piece of work but they haven’t gotten to that level of evil yet in my books. Jjks are evil set of people. This fandom and the entire kpop community never think twice about any rumors that concern Jimin as they eat it up no questions asked, JJKs know this and they use it to their advantage. I have seen these people fake tweets, websites, messages and so many other things and spread them around just to “prove” that Jimin’s success is fraudulent because they cannot stand the fact that Jimin is the only member who can compete with Jk. They have single handedly created and spread the narrative that Jimin is fraudulent. After Jimin released his album they faked a tweet from one of the biggest Jimin funds accounts claiming that PJMs sent phones to the US to stream for Jimin. Before you ask me how I know they faked it let me tell you. JJKs would rather die than have Jimin break any of Jk’s records so if they could boost streams by sending phones to the US, JJks would have been the first ones to do it. They made up a fake tweet and spread it around and no one questioned it’s authenticity and even when the account denied it, no one cared. First of all who is stupid enough to do something like that and make a tweet about it? JJKs also created a fake account pretending to be a Jimin solo and threatened to leak Jk’s passport information a few weeks back and even though it was clear that they did it, no one batted an eye and jimin solos took the blame. Jjks/tkkrs have faked two gcs now (that we know of ) and tried to pin in on jkkrs. One happened right before Jimin’s album dropped (after we got Tteokbokki By Jk) and then the next one happened after AYS episode 6.

This is why I say these people are pure evil because I have seen Jimin solos do and say some messed up things against Jk but not up to the level of JK solos. They throw stones every damn time and hide their hands and Jimin takes the fall for it. They fake articles about him and his family, about his numbers, his success and the sad part is, they have way of getting the media to pick up on their bullshit.

Tae solos (ex taekookers) are just lazy. No offense to Taehyung’s beautiful soul but most of his fans don’t give a tiny rats ass about anything but his face. They don’t care about the music he makes, about his art. They are so quick to like and view and follow his accounts everywhere but when it comes to streaming his songs and actually supporting him, they don’t do it and because of that, they lash out at Jimin and call his fraudelent because they could never believe that Jimin whom they always considered inferior to Tae would get better streaming numbers than him. They spent years believing that the number of likes and followers someone has on social media equals success and when reality hit them in the face, they couldn’t accept that they were wrong but resorted to accuse Jimin of being fraudelent. How does hating on another person’s success make you succeed?

Taekookers, Jjks, and Tae solos (ex taekookers) have made all sorts of rumors about Jimin. They have accused him of sleeping with bang pd for favors (Jimin solos have done the same thing to Jk btw), they have accused Jimin of selling himself to pdogg and the other producers for favors. They have accused Jimin of being jealous of Jk and Tae. And the funny thing is, because these people hate Jimin so much and are desperate to bring him down, they choose to believe any negative thing they see about him whether it makes sense to them or not. Someone could post an article tomorrow claiming that Jimin is Donald Trump’s lover and you will see that post having over 100k likes with people agreeing to it even though they know it isn’t true. No one cares about the truth when it comes to Jimin, they just care about having a reason to drag him and most of this is because Jimin met a doe eyed boy over a decade ago and loved him.

No one would have cared about hating Jimin this much if he wasn’t a part of Jungkook’s life. Taekookers, tae solos, jjks wouldn’t have had this deep hate for Jimin if Jimin didn’t love Jungkook and if Jungkook didn’t love Jimin too and this is one of the reasons why Jimin and Jungkook just never made sense to me as platonic friends. There has got to be a reason why them together drives people so crazy and if their love and feelings for each other was just at the level of bestfriends, things would never have been this bad. If taekookers really didn’t see and fear something about jikook’s bond, they wouldn’t hate him so much or spend almost all their time talking about him on their blogs. Taekookers on tumblr can barely go a single day without bringing Jimin up on their blogs. Some Tae fans on tumblr can barely go a single day without bringing him up and talking about his success and work and then we have JJKs who are quite literally obsessed with Jimin and then Jimin solos obsessed with Jk. If JJks didn’t feel the tension between Jikook they wouldn’t project their discomfort and hate unto Jk so much.

Regardless of whether what Jimin and Jungkook have is platonic or not, I think it says alot that how they feel for each other brings them so much hate alone and together. I think it says alot that despite all these hate they have gotten for years, they just keep getting stronger. I think it says alot that millions of people cannot stand the ground Jimin walks on just because he has Jungkook in his life. Whether people choose to admit it or not, they feel the strong bond Jikook have and for some reason this frightens them.

No one breaks into an empty house. No one puts so much effort into something that isn’t relevant so usually when a whole lot of people are doing everything in their power to break or bring something down, it is usually because they see and fear it’s power. No one would care about hating on Jimin so much if they really thought Jk hated him. No one would care about discrediting his success so much of they really thought he was irrelevant, no one would try to make him the villain so much, if they didn’t see the beauty of his soul and no one would try so hard to dim his light if they only saw darkness.

It breaks my heart that their love for each other is one of the biggest things that brings them hate but there is some weird satisfaction I get from knowing that their bond is strong, deep and obvious enough to get this many people trying to destroy them individually and together. No great person ever had it easy. No one who made history ever went through life without getting stones thrown at them so I take this to mean that Jimin and Jungkook are meant for the greatest things. When people see your grace and the bright future ahead of you, they try to break your wings before you even realize you can fly but the good thing is, they always, always fail.

#jimin #jungkook #jikook #fandom #typed this in my feelings so there might be alot of errors

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duohensheng · 5 months

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yes he is turning on the full power of his manipulation abilities here but hear me out: the feeling of betrayal is (obviously imo) real

if i were jgy i would be devastated. not just devastated. enraged. zewu-jun barged in here with everyone because he believed jgy had da-ge’s head on a shelf? I’m sorry, ZEWU JUN? BELIEVED?? the depth of the betrayal of that is nauseating to me. what the fuck has jgy ever done for lxc to believe that?? *checks notes* ah yes.. the lifesaving watchtowers.. making sure lwj’s reputation survived wwx.. helped everyone he could at every turn… definitely the marks of a guy that has their sworn brother’s head in his closet. dude. that is HEARTBREAKING.

(I mean, he did. he very much so did have his head in his closet. but for lxc to be willing to believe that????? devastating.)

this is the guy that lxc watched/helped REBUILD THE ENTIRE JIANGHU FROM DAMN NEAR SCRATCH. how many late nights?? how many months of quiet, gentle company at the Cloud Recesses (that he helped rebuild and paid for)??? like, this went on for TWO DECADES. TWO DECADES of night hunts and unwavering loyalty and reading each others’ minds and being each other’s closest person. it’s canon that they tell each other everything. jgy gives no one else earnest, unguarded access like he does lxc* (at the very least, earnest). I understand that lxc is reeling (and that this game only works if played fast, and was organised to give no one time to reflect or think anything through) but HOW is his first reaction not more defensive in a situation as extreme as this?

(I think the answer is that if this is his A-Yao that he knows so well, A-Yao will understand that lxc needs to give everything fair consideration and will honour that/not take it personally. which, in fairness (as proven by the Jade token cloud recesses scene where jgy is saying he’ll make sure lwj’s reputation is safe and gives lxc a chance to see da-ge before burial) he seems to do. soooo lxc gets second chances! good to know)

(cut to jgy asking why he doesn’t get another chance to get things right. why lxc won’t give it to him)

that feeling is… exhausting. even if jgy has been devoted to this man (and highkey the jianghu) body and soul for two decades, his first reaction is still mistrust in a situation like this.

(yeah yeah i know he defends him with wangxian and that he’s mild-mannered and introspective but SIR. this is JGY. WHERE is the outrage)

anyhow. this isn’t me trying to decide whether it’s “fair” for lxc to react the way he did. my thesis statement stands: i think in that moment, after the violent despair of Qin su dying, jgy’s feeling of betrayal at realising the extent of what’s going on finally bleeds through. it’s not just him and his clever words. it’s genuine (justified imo) betrayal

(cut to the fucking 3zun ceremony where they say we will not betray each other)

*not sure if i stand by this (su she??? what about our boy) but that merits a whole post in and of itself

#mdzs meta #jgy #get jgy with it #xiyao #music and letters and tea #this drives me up the metaphorical wall #can you tell #Jin guangyao #lxc #jgy defence league ⚔️

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scar-lie · 9 months

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Their First Love [Natasha]

Summary : What happens when someone come back to get what's them.

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romsnoff x Bucky Barnes

Warning : None, I guess

Word Count : 2,642

A/N : Hi everyone so sorry that I didn't post the chap 9 of Omega and the crossover oneshot, my school ends right before Christmas eve, then my Mom got admited to the hospital and well next is new year so it's kinda busy, sorry again but this oneshot is in my draft for over a month or week now so this is my sorry token for you all

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE 🥳🎉

{THEIR FIRST LOVE PT. 2}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

You sigh, getting off the elevator in the compound to visit Natasha. You two have been friends for over two years now. You two met in the coffee shop nearby your company building. She sat at your table with your permission because, at that time, the shop didn’t have any vacant seats left. Since then, you two have hit it off and become friends. After a year, you started to date, and you courted her until today.

But once you get off the elevator and pass the two doors that lead into a common room of the Avengers quarters, you frown at seeing everyone gather around and see Natasha clinging to a guy.

“What’s happening? "You question walking forward; everybody looks at you.

“Oh, Bucky, the winter soldier, Steve’s pal back in the days, and the Bucky I’ve been talking about—uhm, he's back and sided with us,” Natasha explains, giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek.

“Hi, Y/N, nice to meet you.” You offer him a hand, but he just looks at it without emotion, so you take your hand back.

"Ok,” you mumble, and sit down on the couch and just look at them, especially Nat and Steve, who have pampered this new guy with questions and appreciation that he’s here now.

You just let them have fun and enjoy their time. You understand why, especially Steve and Nat. I mean, that’s Steve's pal or brother, and that’s Natasha’s first love, the love she found in the red room and KGB, where torture and killing grow, where she trains to be a black widow. But you’re not going to hide the fact that you’re jealous and scared that what you and Nat have will end soon.

You let it slide the first few weeks, where Natasha was constantly clinging to Bucky and having quality time, and set you aside, but when the 5th week struck, you confronted her, where she just got home from a 2-day mission with Bucky, Tony, and Sam.

She’s tired and exhausted. Their mission goes south, which comprises a lot of people's lives, and all she wanted to do was go home, get the dirt and blood off of her body, and hope the frustration and self-blame will go down the drain too with the rest of the dirt, and sleep the night off.

But that’s not what’s waiting for her; instead, you’re in her bed, sitting and looking at the wall in front of you. When Natasha enters her room, she sighs and comes to kiss your forehead, then goes off to go to the bathroom.

“Be honest with me, Natasha... Are we still dating, or will you and Bucky go back together? "You asked before she could close the door, not looking at her form, which was frozen in her spot.

Natasha frowns, slowly turning back at you with a confused look. She doesn’t know how to answer it, and she herself doesn’t know either. All she knows is that Bucky is here; she wants to spend time with him, but at the same time, she’s building a relationship with another person, which is you. She just sighs, trying to look into your eyes, but you keep your eyes straight.

“I-uhmm….I don’t know…I-” You didn’t let her finish her sentence; you already heard enough, so you stood up, took your bag on the sofa, and headed out to her front door. Natasha quickly followed you.

“Call me if you already have an answer,” you mumbled enough for her to hear, but Natasha never let you get out that easily.

"Hey, hey, hey! No, you’re not going to walk out on me; we’re going to talk this out like a mature adult.” She pulls you inside and closes the door of her room.

“Ok, I admit that I spend more time with Bucky and that I’m putting you aside, but that doesn’t mean that I will end things between us.” She started searching for your eyes to look back at her too.

“And there’s a "but" coming, right? "You look at her; you already know how this is going. Well, you should have known better.

“But I don’t know, I... I still yearn for him... I don’t know, ok, please understand,” she whispered, and you just nodded. You can’t do anything about it, though. I mean, you two don’t put a label on who you both are, so she’s still free to choose him over you.

"Ok.” That’s all you said, and you walked past her.

“That’s all you’re going to say? "You sigh again and turn around, giving her a small, tight smile.

"Yeah, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to be angry or what? I mean, we’re not together, Nat; we’re just dating. I’m your suitor, Nat, so I don’t have the right to be angry or tell you to distance yourself from your first love, so yeah, that’s all I have to say.” With that, you leave her room and go back to your house as soon as possible to sleep it off and get ready for your endless meeting tomorrow, but God has other plans because you met Bucky on the way.

“Hi…..Y/N right? "Bucky, stop you before you can leave the two doors in the lounge where he sat, with snacks in his hand and a coffee table, so you stop and turn around to look at him tiredly.

“Yeah, that’s me. Why? "You sigh when he stands up and stands in front of you, trying to intimidate you, but honestly, if you’re not tired and don’t give a fuck, you’re probably intimidating him too.

“I don’t appreciate you getting close to Natasha, so could you please distance yourself? "I scuff at him, standing straight, grasping my handbag in front of me with my two hands.

“Maybe I should be the one telling you that, because before you come along, we’re dating,” you calmly said, giving him a tight smile.

“Well, are you two together? "He challenges you, and you clench your jaw, looking up at him.

"No.” You didn’t back down, and he smirked, satisfied at your answer.

“I suggest you start moving on, because I’m courting her.” He gives you a sly look and pats your shoulder, then leaves.

You clench your jaw and give him a dirty finger, leaving the building with irritation and annoyance, and go straight home to wash away all the stress and tiredness in your body since this morning, when your day started to go south.

You didn’t bother to go to the compound for a week now because of a hectic workload, meetings here and there, and some dumbass who can’t do their jobs properly. Even though you missed Natasha and wanted her hugs and cuddles, you couldn’t visit her, so you just kept gifting Natasha food or flowers and texting her, but most of the time she ignored you, and you just rolled your eyes at that, thinking they were probably having their time together, so today you’re going to visit her.

But once you get to the compounds quarter, your mood quickly drops seeing Natasha leaning toward Bucky while watching some movies, but you put your jealousy and irritation aside and great her.

"Hey, Nat,” you say. She looks at you and quickly stands up and greets you with a hug and a kiss in the check that makes Bucky look at you dirty.

“Hi, how are you? You haven’t been here for a week now.” You give her a smile and show her the Chinese takeout you brought.

“Just busy in the office, that's all. Are you hungry? "You asked, taking her hand to drag her into the kitchen to eat.

"Sorry, but she’s full; we just got home to eat lunch.” He smirked at you, and you gave him a glare while he stood up and took Natasha off of you.

“So if you wouldn’t mind, we’re watching a movie," he says, then guides her back to the couch while Natasha just looks back at you, looking for your reassurance, but you keep neutral, which makes Natasha worried.

"Uhm, wait, Buck, actually, I’m-” Before she can get out of Bucky's grasp, you walk straight back to the kitchen, putting down the paper bag, and go back to leave the building.

“In case you..." you point to them with a tight smile.

“Get hungry or just give it to someone who wants it; I’ll be heading out now.” Then you leave with a sigh; you’re losing hope; well, he’s her first love; you can’t fight with that; that’s her greatest love; and now the only option you have is to accept it, because sooner or later, you’re expecting Natasha to talk to you and end things between you two.

And you’re not wrong, because the next time you visited, you saw them together in the gym, sparing, well, more intimately; they kissed passionately, savoring their time together, and that broke your heart completely into pieces.

And you don’t have the heart to ruin it for her, so you just give yourself a smile, nod, and turn back, going to her room to get some of your stuff you left there, and well, wait for her there to have a talk. You know she’s not going to say it to you right away, so you’ll confront her.

Once Natasha entered the room with a big smile on her face and a tint of red in her check, saying goodbye to Bucky, you didn’t look up at her; you just looked at her waist until you heard her gasp, shocked to see you sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Y/N," she mumbles, not moving a single inch in her spot until she clears her throat, having the courage to tell you something.

“Glad to see you here, cause I need to talk to you too,” she carefully said, reading your dementor, but she failed, so she just gulped the lump on her throat and just blurted out.

“I need to end things between us because I know it’s not fair to you if I keep this hidden, but... I'm getting back with Bucky.” Her heart beat faster. Looking at you, you scuffed and nodded. At least she had the courage to tell you.

Natasha quickly became tense and gasped when she saw a few bags already packed. You looked up at her with a neutral dementor, the one you always wore before you met Natasha, and this made Natasha feel uneasy.

"Well, I guess it is my cue to leave now, since you already dropped the elephant in the room.” You stand up, taking your bag, and walk past her.

“I’m sorry,” she shouts, running to you. She feels guilty and hurt, even wanting you to look back at the eyes that she’s been searching for.

“Don’t be; you don’t owe me an apology or explanation…..and so do I, when I'll make no exception to anyone, including you, and when you don't have the same privilege you had before.” This makes Natasha’s eyes go wide; she knows how you are around in your company; you’re cold, strict, and scary.

“Excuse me, Miss. Romanoff, I still have a company that needs someone to run with.” With that, you leave the building and sulk yourself to work, declining every call and knocking on the door, letting your assistant be the only one who can come and go in your office, and rescheduling all your meetings for a week.

If you will move on, Natasha is no exception. You need to distance yourself from her and treat her like everyone else around you, even though she’s still your friend.

This doesn’t settle Natasha very well; sure, she’s happy that she’s with her first love that the KGB ripped out of her, but the unsettling feeling deep in her bothers her.

Sure, she’s happy going on dates, cuddling, spending time together, and having sex with Bucky, but it still feels wrong to her. It feels wrong deep inside her, and she tries to set it aside, but the feeling keeps building and building up, like she’s going to explode one day.

"Hey, are you ok? "Bucky asked her with concern. He just got out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, while Natahsa just lay down in the bed, lost in her thoughts, and only the covers were covering her naked body while the morning sun started to rise.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, just thinking.” Natasha looked at Bucky with a smile, so Bucky quickly lay beside her and buried his face in her neck.

“You’re thinking about her, do you? "Bucky whispers, looking up at her while she scuffs and shakes her head.

“What are you talking about, and who’s “her” you’re referring to? "Natasha, just look at him for a few seconds and go look somewhere else.

“You know what I’m talking about; I can feel it, Nat. You want her; you’re looking for her even though you keep saying to yourself that you’re okay." Natasha didn’t answer right away, thinking carefully.

"No, you're wrong,” Natasha just said and stood up, taking the cover with her.

“I already have what I want,” she said, trying to convince Bucky, but the truth is, she’s trying to convince herself more than Bucky.

Bucky didn’t argue with her; he knows Natasha is a stubborn one. Sure, he doesn’t know her very well now; things change, and he doesn’t want to push it.

But Natasha thought of it all day, and Bucky observed her the whole time, accepting that sooner or later Natasha would need to talk to him.

That day, Natasha went out to walk, think, and clear her head, letting her feet take her wherever they took her. That said, now she’s standing in the cafe shop where she first saw you, your memories of her flash in her mind, missing how you smiled and how soft you were to her, how you looked intimidating the first time you two met.

Then Natasha went to your favorite flower shop, where she most likely saw you before you courted her, buying different flowers every 3 times a week or maybe 4, then she visited the fast food chain you always whined to go to because you loved their onion rings and twisted fries there, then she went to your favorite burger food chain until she went around the town buying things that you always whined about.

Until she’s standing in front of your company building, frozen in her spot while looking up to the high tower where you are probably in and on one of the floors at the top, this makes her heartache, and she misses going here ever so often to visit you and spend time with you.

She sighs and decides to go in. Reasons? to give you the stuff she bought from different stores around the town, and she hopes that you will let her in or meet her.

But once she got inside, the receptionist wouldn't let her in with the reason—Ms. Y/L/N is busy and doesn’t want any visitors—she closed her eyes, cursing to herself, knowing she couldn't just walk past security or make her way around to get to you. She knows you already hate her, and doing the dirty job to get to you will fuel you more.

Natasha started to walk back, but not until someone screamed your name. That’s when she turned around and saw you, looking beautifully in your sexy business suit that shows all your assets with three bodyguards, and let the woman in your right arm. This broke Natasha, especially seeing who the woman is—it's the woman you talked about to her, your first love.

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under-cotton-and-calicos · 10 months

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Take Me Back To Eden

Multiple Ghosts x AFAB Reader

AN: It’s been a long while. I’ve been busy [insert unhinged ao3 author life update here]. This has been sitting in my drafts for the LONGEST time jeez. Wasn’t really satisfied with any of the directions it took so I finally sat down and committed to something. May or may not have a sequel. I recommend listening to “Descending” by Sleep Token while you read this. As the title implies, I’m kinda obsessed with the band right now. Enjoy!

tags: cult sex, orgy, heavy dubcon, ghosts, ancient deity, mind manipulation, oral sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, WEIRD CUM

Word count: 3.9k

With a pathetic sputter, the incessant humming of your old corolla’s engine gives way to silence. For a few moments, you sit in the dark and quiet, a mixture of excitement and anxiety raising goosebumps on your skin. You’ve done this hundreds of times, you’re sure that today you’re going to get your big hit. It has to be.

You slam your car door shut and take a deep breath, a gym bag filled with equipment and cameras slung over one shoulder, your free hand guiding the beam of your heavy duty torch across the entrance of the abandoned bar. The old, faded sign perched above its entrance is unreadable, faintly you can make out traces of looping letters. Its battered and dusty exterior belies the rumours you’ve heard about the place.

You were supposed to come with your posse, but every single one of them had work or family issues that cropped up at the last minute. Not one to be deterred by fear, you ended up making the drive down alone. In spite of the cool night, your skin is warm with anticipation as you cross the threshold and slip into the bar.

Not much is known about its origins or history- it’s a small, rundown lot in a slow and quiet part of town, so no one has ever paid it much attention. It had been a hole-in-the-wall style pub that attracted a small and dedicated group of patrons before mysteriously closing abruptly. Hours of digging through the net gave you enough reason to suspect that there was an abnormal cause behind why it still hadn’t been bought out for decades, though. The reports of ghostly apparitions in the crevices of obscure forums led you down a rabbit hole. Soon enough, you managed to find a video posted online, taken by some teenagers roped in by a bet. You studied it for hours, pausing at every frame.

You can still remember the sweet thrill, the goosebumps that formed on your skin when you noticed the wispy, grey figures hidden behind corners in several frames. Jackpot.

Your friends had told you that they were edited but your gut told you otherwise. There was a genuine fear in those kids’ eyes, you bet on it.

As you manoeuvre through old tables and chairs, you notice that the furniture is still well kept, barring the fact that everything is covered in layers of dust.The retro style bar, stools and shelves are all in good condition, though lacking bottles of booze and the typical drink making paraphernalia. Maybe someone still cares for the place?

You notice a few doors that hadn’t been explored in the video, so you try each handle, one of them leading to an empty storage room, another leading to a kitchen behind the bar, the next to a decrepit restroom. Curiously, there’s a long stairway behind a stuffy curtain going down to what you presume is a basement door. There’s an inlaid symbol on the door, made from burnished golden metal, its fine quality at odds with everything else in the bar. You’ve never seen anything like it before- the silhouette of a tree firmly rooted to the earth, its branches and roots reminiscent of…horns?

There’s something compelling about it. Your stomach dips at the thought of you opening the door, but you want to. There’s something on the other side of it.

When you yank on the handle, it doesn’t budge, breaking you out of your momentary stupor. You shake your head and blink.

Caught up in the moment?

“Damn.” You sigh. Typically, you would leave lockpicking to another one of your friends. There isn’t much you can do about it, so you decide to set up a few thermal cameras overlooking the tables and bar, as well as an REM pod for proximity detection on the countertop.

Kneeling behind the countertop, you turn on your spirit box, its harsh white noise filling the quiet. Through the static, you call into the night.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

There’s no response, but you introduce yourself and continue. You’re well accustomed to this pattern already, after years of this. The hauling of equipment, meticulously setting everything up, dicking around for a few hours and then packing up and heading home. Keep the time spent idle low, and expectations even lower. Perhaps it’s because you’re alone tonight. There’s a charge in the atmosphere, a certain secrecy and wonder to the ritual.

“I'd really like it if you told me your name.”

“Like.” The artificial, crackly word emerges from the static.

“Yes, I’d like it if you introduced yourself too.” You wait a few more moments before the next word. For a while, monosyllabic words are all you receive. So you dig and prompt until you tag onto something.

“More.”

“More?”

“M…More tha-an.”

“There’s more than one of you?” You say, peering around the empty bar. There’s no sign of the specters from the video, only swirling mites of dust suspended in the air under the glow of your torchlight. “Where are you?”

“H-Here.”

Suddenly, your REM pod flashes green, red, blue against the shadows, signalling that something is close by, very close by. But instead of its typical bleeping, a warbled wail echoes through the empty bar, causing you to flinch from how loud it is. The fuck?

You turn around and direct your torch towards the pod. Your heart falters.

A crowd of grey specters are standing behind the counter, their forms towering over where you’re kneeled on the ground. Their bodies are featureless, rippling as though they could blink out of existence at any moment, at odds with the physical realm. For a second, you can’t bring yourself to do anything. You feel dread, you're stunned, but underneath it all, the irrational, ghost hunting geek in you is baffled. Holy shit, holy shit.

You jump to your feet, backed against the shelves. Their heads tilt upwards, following your movement. And then you’re fleeing, terror driving you to run from the very situation that you’ve been chasing down for years.

The moment you’re behind the steering wheel, you step on the gas, your corolla protesting as it's jolted out of its sleep and forced to shoot down the empty street. You don’t stop to turn and look.

“Wait.” A real voice overlaps with the one coming from your spirit box still clutched in your sweaty palm, but you don’t stop, turning the corner around the countertop and passing through an ethereal, translucent arm reaching out to stop you. You burst out of the bar into the cooler night air and shakily jam your key into your car, cursing as you struggle to get the door open.

Holy shit, you chant over and over again, they’re real, they’re real!

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Your alarm wakes you from a restless slumber, one of many in the past few months. With a groan, you fumble for your phone with your eyes still closed and turn it off.

“Fuck…” You curse at the soreness in your back and slick between your legs. It happened again last night.

Tugging your underwear down, you stare at the sticky mess you’d created in your sleep. Glimpses of your dream, or nightmare, flash through your head, sending a quiver down your spine. Your breath hitches at the thought, you palm your stiff nipples through your ratty old shirt and begin fingering your cunt, warm and dripping wet.

You’ve been tormented by a string of dreams lately, each one leaving you aching in the morning. So much so that you have had to incorporate masturbation into your morning routine. It’s never satisfying though, your fingers and toys don’t come even close to what you experience in the nasty recesses of the dreamscape hidden in your mind. All of them are vivid and realistic, but when you wake, you can only recall little snatches- greedy hands taking their fill of your body and being bent over, being filled…being defiled.

And with your equipment left at the bar, what can you do? There is no evidence of your findings. You can’t tell your friends that you’ve been having wet dreams almost incessantly since that night alone in the bar. You would seem like a lunatic.

But it wouldn’t be wrong to call this a kind of madness. Frantic and possessive. Bodies cast in vibrant colour, shadowed and swaying against you. Cast in the black behind your eyelids is a gold insignia, beckoning you closer and closer.

With a whimper, you cum, body folding over and shaking as you ride out your climax. Temporarily satiated, you slump back into your pillows dramatically, staring at your ceiling. Something from that bar had followed you home. And you want to go back.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

The empty district is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. It’s a cold night, and you tug your sweater around your shoulders as you lean back in your car seat. It’s undeniable that you’re a little scared- you feel like one of those idiot teenagers in horror movies that get themselves killed for wandering recklessly into danger. Again, something tells you that it’s different. Or maybe you’re just horny.

With your torch in one hand and your phone in the other, you enter the bar. All of your equipment is just as you left it. You trace your finger over the REM pod on the countertop, dusty but intact. It’s…quiet.

What did you expect? To get jumped the moment you came in? There’s no sign of the specters as well. You’re a bit disappointed, because it means that those dreams you’ve been having might not have been supernatural at all, and worse, the specters might have been a figment of your imagination.

Just as you resolve to pack up your things and leave, a sliver of light catches your eye, cast against the dark floor. Purple light streams between the curtains that lead to the locked basement. Your heart begins to pick up pace again, and you rush over, brushing aside the thick, heavy fabric to see the stairway down illuminated. The door is open!

“H-Hello?” You call out, flicking your torchlight off and leaning it against a step. With hesitant steps, you descend, eyes adjusting to the dim artificial light. You know this atmosphere, this tension in the air from the distinctive purple haze of your dreams. Almost instinctively, your core warms and you can feel yourself shiver, a conditioned response.

When you reach the base of the stairs, your breath stalls in your throat and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. The same apparitions that have been haunting your dreams are there, facing you, as if waiting for your inevitable return. Your nervous eyes scan the rest of the room, it looks like you’ve stepped into another realm entirely- gone are the cheap and neon plastics of the bar, there’s a pool of fabrics and pillows, and an altar, carved from stone with tall pillars of candles by its sides.

Dazed, you don’t realise that you’ve been walking until you’re a few feet in front of the specters, their heads following you uncannily.

“I-I…” You sputter, jittery under their heavy, obscured gaze. They haven’t even done anything to you yet, but your head is all cotton and gauze. Slowly, you sink to your knees.

“My dreams. I’ve seen you there.” You say, awe-struck. A delicate voice replies, soft as a gossamer sheet.

“I am glad that you’ve returned.” It confuses you. You’re not sure if the voice is coming from one of the specters before you or if it’s echoing through your head, like you’re on a phone call with someone in the same room as you. Up close, their forms are ethereal, shimmering and tinted purple from the lights, shifting ever-so-slightly.

You can still make out the shape of a mouth and a nose on their faces, as well as outlines of their limbs and hands. One reaches out to you, fitting the curve of your cheek in the palm of their hand- your eyes widen at the touch, it feels real, cold but solid against you.

“Good one…pretty one…” They close around you, clamouring to touch you. A hand combs through your hair, traces the curve of your ear, another slides past the collar of your shirt to the dip between your shoulder blades, and one presses its fingers against your lips.

Strange, you think, opening your mouth obediently for the cold fingers to savour the wet warmth of your tongue. Every cell in your body is alight, bristling with energy and ready to burst at the seams. This is what you’ve been wanting for so, so long.

How could I have been terrified of them before this?

“More, more.” Not enough of you is exposed it seems. You shed your sweater, your hard nipples visible through thin fabric. The atmosphere bristles a bit, you think, as you finally discard your shirt, your breasts and inviting skin on display for them to grab at, their touch growing more hungry.

They whisper, trailing lower and lower. You close your eyes for just a moment, the jostling bodies around you giving way to darkness as you relish in the feeling of hands that grope your chest, firm nipples being pinched and tugged at, your bare body slowly becoming accustomed to their supernatural chill. Something bumps against your lips and you smile, opening your eyes once again to bat your eyelashes up at the specter that has its stiff cock in hand, unabashedly asking for entry.

You open wide, sticking your tongue out for the specter to slide its head against you. You think you hear a whimper, and you’re pleased to feel it twitching as you close your mouth around it, humming as you bob your head and take more of its length down your throat. It’s solid, hard like a human’s, and you can feel the bump of veins trailing down its shaft. Behind you, one kneels down and presses its torso up against your back, a hand cupping your soaking sex and another kneading your breast.

“Here…!” Two more specters hovering over you tug at your arms impatiently, wrapping your hands around their own dicks. Obliging their requests, you stroke them lazily, eyes flitting between all of the spirits that surround you. The ones that are not latched to your body stand a short distance away, fisting themselves, undoubtedly staring at you get busy. Underneath their innumerable gaze, you’re exhilarated, and a thought flits through your mind- they’ll all have a chance to run you through later, and you’ll be able to experience it all in reality.

The specter shoves two fingers into your needy hole, grinding them against your sweet spot. You falter, but the specter that’s in your mouth clamps its hands around your head, sinking so deep that your face is flush with their crotch. The two rut into your tightened grip, gasping and groaning fills your head.

“So good…so good…Ah!”

When a finger flicks at your clit, you cum hard, body arching and thighs quaking. You’re stunned momentarily, and you swallow back the spit pooling in your throat, squeezing around the specter. Suddenly, its grip in your hair grows stronger, bordering on pain as it cums too, cold, thick liquid shooting into the back of your throat and covering your tongue. It tastes like nothing, you note, gasping for air when it detaches from you and releases its grip on your head.

What catches you off guard is the colour of its seed, a thick white substance that drips down your chin onto the floor between your legs, giving off an otherworldly glow. Immediately, another takes its place- the one on the right that had you fisting its cock guides it into your mouth and plugs you up again. This one is less patient, it holds you in place and fucks into your mouth. They use you like a sex toy, taking turns occupying your hands and mouth, grabbing at your chest and fingering your cunt. Any hesitation or endearing nervousness that occupied the specters has disappeared, and you’re elated. You lose count of how many have cum on you, they spill on your face, your chest, covering you in their ungodly semen. It becomes a dizzying cycle, and between your climaxes and theirs’, you lavish them with all that you can give, just as you did in your dreams. What you can take down your throat, you do gladly, an appreciative hum is your reward when you obediently swallow and accept the spurts of cum onto your body.

Suddenly, after a specter smears its cum across your tits, you’re pulled to your feet. Shaky and tired legs unable to support your body, you’re carried over to the altar that you saw earlier and laid upon it. It’s the perfect height, and you groan as a specter grinds its cock against your wet folds. Your legs are spread wide apart, and the empty spaces around you are quickly taken by eager spirits. They pause though, and seem to wait for something patiently. A name is called, something unintelligible, not in the human tongue, not anything you’ve heard before.

They say something in an alien tongue, and look upwards to the ceiling. There is something you didn’t notice before, the same sigil as the one on the door is painted there. In a split second, a collage of memories are made clear in your mind’s eye- you see offerings of wine and food, people kneeling before hulking statues and trees, orgies in secluded areas where hedonism flourishes, lush with the scent of sex and flowers.

The specter between your legs breaks you out of your reverie, and you’re suddenly in the basement once again, fully aware of your dripping cunt, the need. There’s an energy in the room that wasn’t there previously, charged and crackling. You groan when it fits its bulbous head against your entrance, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as it enters you. And finally, finally you are one with them. You stare entranced at where you are joined, its thick, translucent cock stretching your starved cunt.

“Fuck me, please.” You rasp, throwing your head back when it begins to thrust into you, setting a brutal pace. Again, the specters crowd around you and put you to work. Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the wave of pleasure, the friction of the heavy cock in your pussy, the numerous hands that guide you and delight in the touch of your skin.

“You…you…” The voice bristles in your head, and there it is again- snatches of that scene and the voice, it’s getting stronger. You can barely focus, between the ghostly bodies all around you and the thread of a connection to It. They’re both equally addictive- the delicious stretch and fill, the wandering hands all over your overstimulated body, and the irresistible draw to something powerful and primordial. Closer, closer, closer.

The specter fucking into you quivers, its pace quickening and its thrusts growing shallower. It’s about to cum inside you, and you wrap your legs around its translucent torso to force it even deeper inside. In response, its hands grab your hips with so much force that you’re sure they’re going to bruise.

“Perfect.” The word is whispered into the shell of your ear, low but with the power of a command. Instantly, you feel like euphoria has flooded your body, too much of it. Every sensation is painfully amplified, the bliss of each thrust between your legs rapturous and overwhelming. You cum, and the specter does too, you can feel its cold seed like ice in your hot, hot cunt, flooding you, seeping into your being. Every cell in your body is screeching from pleasure so high that it hurts.

“Oh. Too much?”

There’s tears streaming down your cheeks. Your thoughts are melting together and no words form on your tongue, all you can manage is a pathetic nod as your body seizes in agony and orgasmic bliss.

“Apologies, it’s been a while.” It says, and just as quick as it compelled you, the euphoria is sapped from your body. The relief is another form of pleasure, and as you relax, you feel a gush of liquid seep past where you’re joined to the specter- you’re squirting, a puddle of it forming on the altar and dripping onto the floor.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” It whispers again, cool and calm as you gasp for breath. “I like it.”

“What…what-” You’re cut off by the specter dragging its cock out of you, leaving you gaping for the next one in line. You let out a high-pitched whine as the mix of semen and your slick spills out of you. As though to comfort you, one specter cradles your cheek and promptly nudges its dick past your lips. They seem to be oblivious to the conversation going on, or they carry on in spite of it.

“Don’t think. Just let go.” Another cock is thrust into you, barely giving you any reprieve as it pounds into you, intent on getting you filled again.

What are you?

“A vague question gets you a vague answer.” It tuts, “I am the bliss that found its way into your dreams, the cruelty that left you wanting more, and the hunger that brought you back here to me.”

Hands reach out to pinch and twist your nipples and clit, forcing you to let out a muffled yelp.

“It hardly seems fair for you to pay little attention to those who have been fucking you so vigorously. Well, given that you can’t form a coherent thought, the ones that have you speared on their cocks are my most devoted followers. They have been so gracious as to offer their spirits for my perusal.”

And now you understand- it’s a god, an ancient deity on the ceiling looking down upon you, casting its impartial and frigid gaze on this debauchery, orchestrated for its sake.

“And you, my little pleasure, are the first taste of life I’ve had down here in a long time.” Its tone has a vicious bite, excitement palpable. At that, the specters, or puppets in you cum, the elation of their master influencing their own pleasure, no doubt. You choke around the cock forced down your throat, cutting off your breathing until it pulls free from you and you choke down air and seed.

You’re so replete, so tired, you’re not sure whether you can take anymore-

“You will.”

Warily, you sweep your gaze across the hoard of hungry spirits hunched over you.

“After all, isn’t this what you wanted?”

Throughout the night, you’re used over and over, your poor cunt fucked and filled more times than you can count. Just as you think it may end, another specter is between your legs, alternating between lapping up the mess between your legs and pumping its seed into you again. All while some ancient and cruel god speaks to you. With each climax, you feel your consciousness slipping further away, the teasing and praise of the voice in your ear growing ever more distant…

When you wake, you’re exhausted. The specters had disappeared, leaving you on the altar. Despite the throbbing in your core and muscles, you manage to pull your clothes back on and make your way up the stairs, the unpleasant stickiness of your skin urging you to get home as soon as possible so you can take a shower.

A draft sends a chill down your spine, a whisper like a caress brushes past you.

I’ll see you soon, little pleasure.

You’re relieved to see your corolla on the streetside, and as you limp to your car you make a mental note to pack up your equipment the next time you’re here.

#monster x reader #monster x human #terato #monster lover #terato writing #monster nsft #nsft #cult stuff #COTTON HAS FINALLY POSTED SOMETHING #HUZZAH!!!!!#exophilia

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the-nerdiest-insanity · 4 months

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So, I have too many Dead Boy Detectives ideas and not enough time and motivation to write them. These ones are up for grabs, but I'll let you know if I ever do revisit any of these

Edwin and Crystal have to pose as a couple for a case, and neither is happy about it

There's some case involving an elite restaurant or some place where only couples can get in. Crystal pulls strings to get them in, but Charles and Niko are off investigating something else. Edwin was held back to search their books for anything. That leaves only Edwin and Crystal forced to act as a couple to get in

5 times the boy’s “old married couple” tendencies came out, and 1 time one of the boys noticed it

Could be little things like "that's Edwin's spot," or "Charles always puts his backpack there" to bigger things like being undercover on a case and accidentally winning a best couple competition

Crystal (and Niko) learning from Charles that the Cat King and Monty were just the latest in a line of broken hearts that Edwin has left. Edwin has been completely oblivious to all of them

Just love the idea of oblivious heartbreakers and Edwin definitely never notices anyone's affections unless it's very clearly spelled out for him

Desire wants to know why their sister is so fascinated with Edwin, so they catch him while he’s in Hell. Getting a confession where Desire is taunting Edwin til he spills everything… Only for Charles to be standing there, coming to rescue his best friend. Desire’s work is done, and they leave, and the boys must deal with the aftermath

Thinking like House of Hades style where Desire is more heard, but not seen as Edwin talks about Crystal and how much he is frustrated by her because he envies her. Highly recommend looking up the House of Hades Cupid Scene to get the vibe I'm talking about.

One thinks they’ve been dating for years vs we’ve never been romantically involved no matter how badly I’d love it trope with Charles and Edwin. Charles is convinced they’ve been dating for like a decade or two while Edwin is completely oblivious and badly pining. Charles “We’ve been dating for 20 years, but Edwin doesn’t like labels or touch, so he’s my best mate, and I keep my distance” Rowland vs. Edwin “I’d walk back into Hell to taste your lips and hear you call me love” Payne

Another trope I just adore that I think would be interesting with the boys. Especially since Charles just thinks it's because of how Edwin was raised or that he's just like that, and not realising the disconnect. Then, Edwin thinking the exact same about Charles. The best miscommunication version

One of the demons Edwin gets transferred to is Crowley (a token of appreciation the higher-ups say). So, Edwin gets dragged along with Crowley to stop the apocalypse (Charles would fit in there too, idk how)

Just want more Good Omens crossovers. Edwin would love to finally use his detective skills to help Crowley and Aziraphale and also finally get some fresh air. Crowley is done with Hell, but has too much of a heart to just send Edwin off to someone else who'll hurt him. Plus, Aziraphale gets attached, so what can he do

Edit: forgot to add this one originally and it's a crime

Crystal, Niko, and Charles get out that Edwin likes a boy and all come to the wrong conclusions about who

Edwin gets over his crisis faster and the others feel comfortable enough to tease him about being open about his first crush. He gives them very little information, but they all think of someone else. Charles thinks it's the Cat King, Niko thinks it's Monty, and Crystal thinks it's Charles. Chaos ensues as they all try to figure out what's true.

#fanfiction #ao3 #writing prompt #writing prompts #dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #payneland #gomens #please adopt these #i really wanna see them but don't have the time #dbda #dead boy detective agency

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genshin-scenarios · 6 months

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half-god, half-mortal…?

Summary: A demigod AU! If you’ve read PJO before you might find the premise familiar, but it’s not required to understand this post!

These are just my take on who their godly parents might be. I’m open to explore how their powers/personalities can differ for other god assignments too! So just send in an ask if ever.

The setting is vaguely like CHB, or in other words, a camp for demigods protected from monsters.

Characters: Tighnari, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Gaming, Hu Tao, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Freminet, Cyno

If you liked this, consider checking out my other work or Wanderer fanbook, now available on my kofi!

Tighnari, Child of Demeter. Associated gifts: summoning and manipulating plantlife, speaking to animals, having a natural immunity to toxins/poisons.

Tighnari is a token first-crush when newcomers arrive at camp. There’s something about meeting him when he’s tending to the fields, the Sun gentle on your skin as you explore the facilities on your own — Tighnari glances up at the sound of your footsteps, though you’re sure you’ve been walking so quietly, there’s no way he could’ve heard.

At your confused expression, Tighnari explains he has more sensory awareness around agricultural sites. You aren’t too sure what that means, but his smile is pretty and it causes you to hang around and ask about the flowers. (He’s more than happy to ramble about them, to your luck.)

On your birthday, Tighnari surprises you with a potted flower that he’s enhanced the robustness of. “That way, it won’t wilt even if you forget to water it.” You’re about to ask him when the flower bud will bloom, only for Tighnari to ask you to hold your hands over it and make a wish. Its petals unravel soon after, followed by the fluttering in your stomach as your hands brush against his fingers — Tighnari passing the gift to you.

Diluc: Athena. Able to see/spy through an owl or serpent’s eyes (sacred animal), memorize virtually anything, weapon proficiency (knows how to use them instinctually), enhanced intelligence and reflexes.

Diluc arrived here with Kaeya years ago. After his father gave him directions to camp, Diluc’s planned route was interrupted by repeated monster attacks, and he was forced to continue the journey alone. During this time, Diluc ran into Kaeya, and they’ve been close as brothers ever since.

It’s hard not to fall a little for Diluc when you witness him in weapons training — he’s gifted with the claymore and hard-working. Sometimes after lessons, he hangs behind for hours to do more drills using other weapons, but always finds the energy to give you a soft smile when you check on him or ask if he can mentor you a little.

You also learn, eventually, that Diluc is stubborn. When he has a question on his mind, he doesn’t rest until he’s found an answer for it, resulting in the redhead passing out until the morning with scribbled notes across his desk.

Sometimes you’re tasked with waking him up, but you haven’t been very effective at this ever since you realized how long his lashes are (immediate panic, worrying he’d blink awake any moment and catch you there).

Kaeya: Nike. Associated gifts: enhancing the chance of victory (or failure) for people, intuitive precognition of who will win in a situation, growing wings on his back temporarily (discovered later on during a battle).

Kaeya was unclaimed by his godly parent during his first two years at camp. Instead, he lived in the Hermes cabin and picked up some useful tricks and qualities from his cabin-mates.

He has a falling-out with Diluc after they return from their first quest. No one knows the reason why, but their relationship is mending, slowly. You never would’ve guessed this from your first impression of Kaeya though; charming and smooth as he asks you to make a little bet on where his coin-toss will land. You learn later that he pretty much controls the outcome of that, which means he’d let you ‘win’.

Kaeya’s happy to help you out if you’re having interpersonal troubles. He’s acquainted with practically everyone, and you realize later down the line that he’s put in a good word for you more than once. When you ask him to accompany you on your quest however, there’s something vulnerable in his eyes as he asks if you’re sure.

“I don’t have any special abilities, you know. And my connections end once you step out of the barrier—”

“...Kaeya. It’s okay. I trust you.”

He’d silently agreed after that, only asking you to promise you won’t regret it. Maybe one day you’ll find out what he’s carrying from his past.

Albedo: Hephaestus cabin. Has the ability to manipulate technology and metal, gifted in craftsmanship and working with machines, good with their hands.

Ironically, Albedo is often mistaken as a child of Aphrodite. Rumors say he was dropped off at camp by an alchemist figure, and may not actually be a demigod as much as he was just another being who suited the Hephaestus’ cabin and gained special permission to board long ago.

The truth remains a mystery. When you ask him about it, Albedo simply rests his cheek against his palm, asking you to make a guess.

Albedo’s choice of weapon is the sword, however he often gets distracted during practice and walks away muttering to himself about how he could add upgrades to the existing weapons at camp. There’s almost an uncanny perfection in the way he moves that adds to his elusive allure.

He created his own little corner in his cabin’s workshop, where he experiments past usual machinery into the field of alchemy. Not usual practice amongst his cabinmates, but no one complains since Albedo is equally diligent in other tasks asked of him. He sometimes invites you to go foraging with him, since he'd rather converse with a close friend than have passersby drag him for a chat.

His undiscriminatory attitude towards those who ask him for help has made him popular around camp, although the Aphrodite kids still lament his lack of interest in socializing.

Gaming: Hermes. Can understand all languages, good at thievery, persuasive, charismatic, quick on his feet, athletic, can summon wings on his shoes!

In your first week, you receive a welcome package from Gaming! He's in charge of sending items around camp since he's fast and gets along with most people, and has also been trying to start up a lion-dance group with other campgoers.

“Sure, performing by myself is fine. But can you imagine Wushou dancers hopping up into the sky? It'll take a bit of logistics, but I'm sure if we partner up with the Hecate cabin, we can figure something out!”

Gaming's saved you from a stray arrow in archery practice a few times, too — wings sprouting on his shoes as he jumps into the air. Not every Hermes child is this adept with flying, which also makes him a common target during capture the flag (lest he swoops in to steal the victory).

Gaming also runs a little side-business to help campers get parcels and letters out to their loved ones (this was not allowed until the camp counselor gave up and told Gaming to enforce safety measures, since demigods are as stubborn as they get.)

He reveals that doing this helps him see a different side of people — like the Ares cabin having an unexpectedly quieter side when they pass items to him, telling Gaming to keep his mouth shut (they don't like showing the mushy side of their emotions very much.)

Hu Tao: Hecate. Can perform magic using ancient greek or latin phrases, has telekinesis, can manipulate the Mist (magical veil which separates the Magical World from the Mortal World), and powers are stronger at night.

Hu Tao is one of the rarer Hecate children who can do necromancy and shadow-travel! Despite the serious sound of this however, she often uses these powers to play pranks.

Once you get closer to her, you discover that her jokes to help people see the other side aren't just dark humor — a number of campers have deep-rooted respect for her for helping them gain closure by speaking to passed souls.

“A lot of campers arrive from a bad situation, after all. We demigods attract trouble. And even if camp is a safe haven, it doesn't erase what happened in the past.”

Once, she asked you for help with inventing her own spell. It was only by the end of her metaphorical rambling that you realize its purpose was to summon a ‘Boo-Tao’!

The little ghost creature seems to like you, and often is the one to retrieve you when Hu Tao requires your presence (often with vague gestures and body language since it can't talk.)

Despite her cabinmates’ protests, Hu Tao likes to bring you to their cabin and get you to try carving runes for spells. She claims it'd be cool if non-Hecate children could have an affinity for some magic too, since they won't always be there to help with magic when things get dire.

“Maybe a drop of my blood can activate the runes, even without my presence? …Kidding! Don’t look at me like that!”

Alhaitham: Dionysus. He can manipulate plants (particularly grape vines), curse people, manipulate madness (cause/cure), and induce people to say what they’re thinking as if they’re drunk (wine-talk). Good acting and persuasion skills!

One can normally spot Alhaitham reading in an alcove somewhere. If you trip on a vine on your way to say hi, maybe take that as a sign that he doesn't want to be disturbed (most people don't realize it's his doing).

When faced with a difficult person however (in an argument), Alhaitham threatens to curse them or induces wine-talk, so that his opponent gets frustrated and hopefully leaves. With the amount of disputes that happen with Alhaitham, one might think he was a child of Ares instead.

“You— Are you inducing madness on me?!”

“Why would I? You’re perfectly enraged without my help. Though since this was caused by your simplicity, I'm afraid I can't cure it either.”

Who can blame you for laughing at that? Alhaitham doesn't miss your muffled cough, causing him to raise his head with a smile.

“See? Even the newcomer thinks you're ridiculous.”

Ever since, Alhaitham has unofficially considered you as a friend (a person with a sane mind). It’s kind of funny how he sometimes acts ignorant and slowly guides a conversation where he wants, leaving his previously-aggressive opponent confused.

Only those he's close to will notice the little quirks in his expression that show he's amused by the volatile campers, though he prefers ‘to watch on the sidelines’ than be placed onstage.

Kaveh: Iris. Associated gifts: Orb conjuring (imprisons target, defensive use), can manifest bird-like wings which lets them fly, rainbow manipulation and travel (teleports through them). They tend to be good artists and dislike fighting.

The only person you might ever see Kaveh arguing with is Alhaitham. Other than that however, Kaveh is nicknamed the ‘Light’ of the Iris cabin for both his beauty and intelligence, as he liaised with the Athena kids to design new facilities around camp.

Many of the new cabins you see for minor gods were also planned by him, as he himself stayed in the Hermes cabin for a while and wanted to make sure every cabin had features personalized for them. His empathy means that he overworks himself often though, constantly flitting between Hephaestus and Hermes cabins to get construction done.

Children of Iris' appearances look rainbow-like when under direct sunlight. Kaveh’s no different, but you have to admit it was a shock the first time you witnessed it — you thought you were going crazy for a second, thinking he was pretty to the point of hallucinating such things!

You once asked Kaveh if you could offer a drachma to see him whenever you wanted (‘Iris message’ where you toss a drachma and pray to Iris for essentially a videocall, but magic) → he laughed and said yes, but commented that he prefers in-person meetings a lot more. That way he can conjure a rainbow against the water and see how your eyes brighten, or catch your micro-reactions during idle conversation.

FreminetHypnos. Ability to cure/cause insomnia, induce sleep, create dream-like illusions (sight-based), travel through others’ dreams and manipulate dream contents, hypnosis, memory manipulation.

Freminet is a shy member of the Hypnos cabin who frequents the Hephaestus forges to work on new machine ideas. You first meet him while he's designing a penguin robot to station in his cabin, so that his siblings can wake up on time for meetings and meals.

Once, you almost opened a bottle of sleeping powder that he just extracted from poppy flowers. In your defense, it was very curious and sparkly.

“Ah, please be careful with that! It's for the Aphrodite campers that’ve been suffering from insomnia lately.”

Freminet admits that he's erased the memories of some people before, particularly those who’ve seen him wandering out at night. In his defense, it was just because he kept stumbling over his words and got too embarrassed, so he'd rather they forget they saw him at all!

During a period of repeated nightmares, you asked Freminet if there was anything he could do to get rid of them. Despite how he could simply induce a pleasant dream for you, he suggests a more long-term solution — Freminet enters your dream so you can face the nightmare together, changing little things here and there so you could process the worries that manifested them in the first place.

He explains that this is better than relying on his powers too much. Speaking from previous experience… turning your dreams into a comforting realm might trap you in them, to the point of forgoing the real world in the end.

Cyno: Nemesis. Ability to control physical and spiritual balance (incapacitating targets), summon vengeful spirits, sense opponents’ strengths and weaknesses, detect cheating, and temporarily neutralize other demigods’ powers. Enhanced strength and combat ability.

You once asked Cyno if he was able to strengthen hatred into a desire for revenge, causing people to fight in the distance — you’d only been acquaintances at the time, and you were admittedly intimidated by his intense aura (a trait of the children of Nemesis, which can startle other people and even monsters at times).

He surprised you by answering seriously, explaining that while it was possible, it'd go against his personal values. Cyno then continues to use a TCG quote to elaborate, which quickly shatters the tension as you jump in recognition of the words. “There are other TCG players in camp?!”

Cyno is usually impossible to sneak up on, nor does he lose his balance. That is, until you managed to fluster him one day by outrightly asking him on a date — and while he doesn't physically trip, there is a moment of surprise on his face that you'll never forget. It’s cute, in a different way from how he gets excited about tabletop games and cracks jokes with a goofy smile. Though he’s still the one who steadies you by the waist whenever you trip over your feet, so you suppose Cyno’s not just cute.

There's an unofficial rivalry going on between him and the Hermes kids during TCG matches, where they try every possible method to cheat just to see if Cyno can catch them.

Ah, but the true moment that makes your heart skip is when you're fighting alongside Cyno on the battlefield, and he carves a way through the crowd of monsters with a vengeful spirit summoned at his side. Then, when you're about to get overwhelmed by enemies, he's quick to pull you out of danger and ask if you're okay. Casually slicing through the monsters with his polearm.

How can you not think he's cool by the end of that?

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probablyasocialecologist · 22 days

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The programmer Simon Willison has described the training for large language models as “money laundering for copyrighted data,” which I find a useful way to think about the appeal of generative-A.I. programs: they let you engage in something like plagiarism, but there’s no guilt associated with it because it’s not clear even to you that you’re copying. Some have claimed that large language models are not laundering the texts they’re trained on but, rather, learning from them, in the same way that human writers learn from the books they’ve read. But a large language model is not a writer; it’s not even a user of language. Language is, by definition, a system of communication, and it requires an intention to communicate. Your phone’s auto-complete may offer good suggestions or bad ones, but in neither case is it trying to say anything to you or the person you’re texting. The fact that ChatGPT can generate coherent sentences invites us to imagine that it understands language in a way that your phone’s auto-complete does not, but it has no more intention to communicate. It is very easy to get ChatGPT to emit a series of words such as “I am happy to see you.” There are many things we don’t understand about how large language models work, but one thing we can be sure of is that ChatGPT is not happy to see you. A dog can communicate that it is happy to see you, and so can a prelinguistic child, even though both lack the capability to use words. ChatGPT feels nothing and desires nothing, and this lack of intention is why ChatGPT is not actually using language. What makes the words “I’m happy to see you” a linguistic utterance is not that the sequence of text tokens that it is made up of are well formed; what makes it a linguistic utterance is the intention to communicate something. Because language comes so easily to us, it’s easy to forget that it lies on top of these other experiences of subjective feeling and of wanting to communicate that feeling. We’re tempted to project those experiences onto a large language model when it emits coherent sentences, but to do so is to fall prey to mimicry; it’s the same phenomenon as when butterflies evolve large dark spots on their wings that can fool birds into thinking they’re predators with big eyes. There is a context in which the dark spots are sufficient; birds are less likely to eat a butterfly that has them, and the butterfly doesn’t really care why it’s not being eaten, as long as it gets to live. But there is a big difference between a butterfly and a predator that poses a threat to a bird. A person using generative A.I. to help them write might claim that they are drawing inspiration from the texts the model was trained on, but I would again argue that this differs from what we usually mean when we say one writer draws inspiration from another. Consider a college student who turns in a paper that consists solely of a five-page quotation from a book, stating that this quotation conveys exactly what she wanted to say, better than she could say it herself. Even if the student is completely candid with the instructor about what she’s done, it’s not accurate to say that she is drawing inspiration from the book she’s citing. The fact that a large language model can reword the quotation enough that the source is unidentifiable doesn’t change the fundamental nature of what’s going on. As the linguist Emily M. Bender has noted, teachers don’t ask students to write essays because the world needs more student essays. The point of writing essays is to strengthen students’ critical-thinking skills; in the same way that lifting weights is useful no matter what sport an athlete plays, writing essays develops skills necessary for whatever job a college student will eventually get. Using ChatGPT to complete assignments is like bringing a forklift into the weight room; you will never improve your cognitive fitness that way.

31 August 2024

#ai #artificial intelligence #ai art #chatgpt #generative ai #ted chiang

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pearlywritings · 1 year

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Don't let your worry reach your eyes

synopsis: waking up you don't find your husband next to you. Yet he is not that far - but what is he doing sitting in front of a mirror?

prompt: 17

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: fluff, domestic moment, established relationship (you are married), talk about kids

word count: 1.3k+ words

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

It’s hard to grasp the line where the dream ends and reality starts when the evening is serenely quiet. You are sure that the winery staff has long but departed home and now are sharing your fortune of basking in the sweet embrace of sleep, while nature, surrounding your tranquil home, is slowing down too, saving the beautiful sounds and blooming colors for the next day.

All that was paving you a road to the dreamland, drawing you further and further in its everlasting fields and high above the fluffy clouds. You’ve almost reached your destination, a castle full of enchanting adventures, but a flicker of a candle and the barely heard heavy sighs are firmly holding you onto the earthly ground. Or bed, more specifically.

Carefully, not yet ready to open your eyes and chase the sweet drowsiness away, you glide your palm over the sheets to the side, ready to bump into the warm body of your beloved and ignore the candle completely. Yet there is no body, no warmth and no wrinkles left, which rings a little bell. It appears that sleep has come only to you, and now you forcefully push it away.

Sitting up is not a hard task, though blinking away the haziness is, but soon you manage to focus your sight. A quick look around the room doesn’t give any indication of something being odd, until your eyes land on the broad back of your husband. You stare at it a second, then another, tilting your head to the side once noticing his position - sitting on a padded stool in front of a mirror, the previously mysterious candle clearly put in a place to cast a light onto his face. Well, that’s new.

Slowly you push the blanket off, baring your legs and throwing them over the edge of the bed. Diluc has heard you from the first rustle of the sheets, but turns around to glance at you only when you are almost at his side.

“You know you shouldn’t walk barefoot?” He softly murmurs, when you stop behind his back and bend down to wrap your arms around his middle.

“You know you shouldn’t stay up so late?” Beating his question with one of your own, you bury your face in his hair - untied and streaming down his shoulders they remind you of those fluffiest clouds from your dreams. “Since we are on topic of that, why are you still up, love?”

You decide against commenting on the way he is sitting in front of a huge mirror, which is now reflecting the two of you. The man in your arms sighs - like you heard through your sleep - and puts a firm hand on the lock of yours resting on his stomach. Two wedding bands catch the candle’s flame.

“I was…thinking.”

‘I noticed,’ you almost say when he directs his gaze back to the smooth surface.

“What about?” You start playing with his fingers, putting your chin on his shoulder and trying to follow his eyes to understand what in his appearance - at that point you are sure it’s something close - got him so silently worked up.

“Do I look mean to you?”

You blink. Then blink again. Then move forward to look into his face to see if he is joking. But by the lack of a hint of a smile and trembling flames in the depths of his crimson eyes tell you he is definitely not.

“To me - never. You are the biggest, gentliest, loveliest and most handsome sweetheart of a husband to me,” the softness of your words paints his palish cheeks lightly pink and the corner of his lip twitches in a restrained smile. “But when you do try to give me a glare if I am being insufferable - I find it hot, not vile.”

The scoff he gives makes you giggle, and you hurry to press a gentle kiss to his nose.

“It’s just…” he sighs again, carefully tugging on your ring, sliding it half off and back up. “I am often told I have a mean glare...”

“Definitely not. Anywho says that has never truly looked at you,” your tone is soothing and you press another kiss to his skin, this time to the cheek.

“I never truly cared,” he confesses what you are already aware off, “but today a patron at the tavern, whom I was in the middle of throwing away,” you quietly snort, hiding your face in his shoulder again, “told me that with such mean eyes I’ll never be loved by my children if I ever have any.”

“Hell no he didn’t,” you gasp, staring at Diluc again. “If I were you I would’ve punched him.”

“As amusing as it sounds, please don’t,” the man ushers you and in a moment you are in his lap, with your arms wrapped around his neck, and his tightening their hold on your waist. “But it did get me thinking - what if our baby will find me scary? What if my gaze won’t be soft or loving enough?”

“If you are worried about that, then that’s already an indicator that you’ll do great,” lately you’ve been having occasional conversations about extending your little family, but you weren’t aware to this day just how seriously Diluc considered that. There is no denial that it makes your heart soften and love him even more. “Though I don't think you should be concerned, dear. Don’t you notice? Klee, Benny, Fischl, Razor and many other kids and teens look at you in awe and adoration - and they always look into your eyes. Would they look into them if they were mean?”

Diluc is silent for a mere couple of seconds, but that’s enough for you to see the extend of his worry.

“...I suppose they wouldn’t.”

“They definitely wouldn’t. Diluc, my love, you have the most vibrant eyes I’ve ever seen a person possess. So many shades of crimson affection whenever you look at someone you love or care for - I am the direct recipient of those feelings,” there is a smile finally and you nearly attack him with kisses, but you should finish your thought first. “And I have no doubt that our future child will become one as well.”

There is a long sigh, but the defeated hang of his head tells you that once again the victory is yours - it’s always been easy to convince your lover of something you believed were right, and you internally cheer for yourself and then physically pat the top of his head.

“Thank you, my flame,” oh, and those very same eyes shine brightly and it’s not the candle’s fault- it’s yours. “I’ll remind myself of this conversation whenever I’ll be questioning myself,” it’s only you in the crimson pools of his gaze, the mirror is finally completely forgotten and it breaks the atmosphere of lingering brooding.

“And I’ll be happy to have this conversation again. Maybe from now on I should carry a Kamera with me to capture every moment you give me a lovesick look to prove my point.”

When he gives you what he thinks is a ‘mean’ look, you only chuckle and move closer to capture his lips in a fleeting kiss.

“Nope, it sure looks sexy.”

“That’s it, you need sleep,” with a wave of his fingers the candle goes out.

“Ehe, WAIT..!”

With a soft squeal you are hoisted up when your husband stands up and are carried to the bed, where two bodies end up falling onto with laughter and many sweet kisses shared. As you settle under the blanket, with his warm body pressed closely to yours, Diluc can’t stop thinking of what you said earlier. Back then, in front of the mirror, he tried to imagine what he’d look like, gazing at his child, what kind of eyes he’d have when interacting with them. But he couldn’t see that clearly.

Now he can. And he is content.

#pearlywritings appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact fluff

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anarcoqueer1994 · 6 months

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Never Have I Ever (Steddie Ficlet)

The older teens—Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Eddie,-- had been hanging out drinking at Steve’s house. No one can remember whose idea it was, but they ended up playing “Never Have I Ever” with who ever being the one who has done it having to take a drink. It was fun, mostly dumb ones, like “Never have I ever been out of Indiana (excluding the Upside-Down) or “Never have I ever smoked weed.” It was one of Robin’s though, that nearly gave Eddie a heart attack.

She looked around the table, smirking, half tipsy. “Never have I ever slept with a guy.” She laughed. Eddie thought nothing of it. He figured she used this one to get as many people at the table to drink as possible. Eddie wasn’t surprised when Jonathan, Argyle (they are dating now, he thinks), and Nancy take a drink with him. What nearly causes him to choke on his own beer is seeing Steve also pick up his glass and take a sip.

His shock causes him to cough up his drink, and though his reaction may have been the most dramatic, but other than Robin, everyone else looked confused too. Steve was oblivious to the looks around the table though, only drunkenly turning to Robin saying “That’s not fair, dude. You knew you would be the only one not to drink.” He playfully complains.

Eddie clears his throat, being the one to ask the question everyone was wondering. “Harrington, you slept with a guy?”

Steve looks around, first confused with the reaction, slowly realizing that everyone was looking at him. They weren’t judgmental, of course, just surprised. He looks awkwardly at Robin who just shrugs her shoulders, before he says. “Oops I guess I forgot to tell you guys. Kind of figured you all knew since we are all…you know…queer. “

Robin laughs at the absurdness of his statement. “Aww Steve, they thought you were our token straight.” She sticks out her tongue.

Eddie doesn’t know why but he kind of feels…jealous. When he thought Steve was straight, it was easy for him to just accept that Steve in unattainable, that he doesn’t like guys. But knowing he does…changes things. Steve was into dudes, and he is a dude. But now he feels like Steve is unattainable in a new way…he is out of his league. Steve can’t want Eddie, no matter how big of a stupid crush he has on him. That hurt more. He can’t explain why he said what he said next, maybe he is a masochist. But his mouth works faster than his brain. “Who?”

“What?” Steve scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. Eddie hates that this makes him more attractive.

He wishes he could pull the word back in, he wishes it would have stayed trapped against his teeth, but it didn’t so he has to go with it. “Um…I mean who was the lucky guy that slept with King Steve?” He tries play it off as a joke, like he’s teasing but honestly part of him wants to know what Steve’s type is.

“Oh, um a few guys, I guess. The first one was Tommy. Before Nance and I dated, I used to hook up with Tommy and Carol sometimes. Most of the time it was the three of us, but I have been with both of them separately.” Steve goes red, realizing all the attention is on him now.

“You were like a …throuple with Tommy and Carol?” Nancy asks in disbelief.

“No, nothing like that! What we did was just for fun. Those two were their own thing. “ He put his increasingly flushed face in his hands before continuing. “Let’s…uh move on from this embarrassing can of worms Robin has opened.

Everyone nods, but Eddie’s big mouth strikes again. “You said there was a few…”

“Eds, you really wanna know all the guys I slept with?” Steve raises his eyebrow, embarrassment going to amusement. He shoots Eddie a smirk before adding. “Why? You wanna be on that list?” He winks.

Shit. Eddie was too pushy. He doesn’t need to know. His face turns red. “Uh no. I’m sorry, I’m just being nosy. I’m sorry.” He repeats without his usual confidence. He continues to ramble apologies.

“Eddie…” Steve interrupts. “I’m just messing with you, man. It’s fine. I don’t have secrets with you guys. There were a few random hooks ups from the gay bar Robin, and I go to in Indianapolis, and um my senior year, I hooked up with one of the guys one the swim team. See no big secrets.” He laughs.

The tension Eddie was feeling dissipates with the sound of Steve’s laugh. Steve doesn’t care…Eddie is reading too much into this. “No big secrets.” He parrots back. And with that, they were back to the game, no one bringing up Steve’s “come out,” No mention of Eddie’s weird reaction, nothing that should make him nervous. But part of him swears he notices Steve staring him down more as the night goes on.

They end up all watching a movie, everyone passing out in the living room, half tipsy, and just feeling safe. Robin and Nancy are cuddled together on the couch while Jonathan and Argyle are tangled together on the love seat. Eddie had been on the chair and Steve was on the third cushion of the couch. They had been the only two still awake, neither very comfortable where they are. When the movie comes to an end, Steve whispers, “Eds…come on man. Let’s go upstairs.”

“up..stairs?” Eddie stutters out like some pathetic 13-year-old kid with a first crush. But he couldn’t help it. Was Steve asking his to go to bed with him? Maybe he wasn’t crazy. Maybe Steve was flirting with him earlier. Maybe he was staring.

Eddie watches as Steve stands up, walks closer and holds out his hand, Eddie instinctively responds, taking the other man’s hand, letting him pull him up. “Yea, upstairs. That chair is not comfortable.”

“No, its not.” Eddie agrees as they head for the steps, still hand in hand. When they get to the top of the stairs though, Steve lets go. He starts leading Eddie to the opposite end of the hallway from his bedroom. When they stop in front of the door at the end, Eddie understands. He feels his heart drop as Steve opens the door to the guest room. “Finally have an excuse to use this thing.” He softly laughs, before turning away, saying over his shoulder “Night, Eds. Let me know if you need anything.”

All Eddie can do is nod lamely, as he steps into his room for the night. He closes the door before collapsing on the bed. His brain is on an emotional roller coaster. He feels stupid thinking that Steve Harrington, queer or not, would be into him. Before he can spiral into self-deprivation, he is pulled back to reality by a knock on the door.

When he opens it, there is Steve Harrington, now clad only in the tiny red shorts he sleeps in. It takes every thing in him to keep his brain from short circuiting. “Steve? What’s up?” He hopes he sounds casual.

“Eddie, why did you react that way earlier when you found out I like guys?” Steve cuts to the chase.

“I..I told you man, just surprised.” He tells a half lie.

“I know, I know. You said that but why did you want to know who?” Steve continues, gears obvious turning in his, trying make the connections he thinks he sees.

“I don’t know.” Eddie looks down at his own feet. Looking at Steve feels dangerous right now, Like Steve could see right through him.”

“Eds? You don’t know?” Steve asks skeptically.

“Yea I don’t know. I just asked. Making conversation, man” Eddie deflects, still looking down.

“I don’t believe you.” Steve says back plainly. Eddie was about to protest, insist Steve was wrong. But before he can, he feels a gentle hand under his chin, pushing his head upwards, so Steve can meet his eyes. He’s frozen as Steve smirks whispering, “I think you wanted to be on that list too.”

Eddie can feel his cheeks going red. Without thinking he replies, “I want to be the end of that list.” As soon as the words leave him mouth, he wishes he could pull them back in. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I don’t expect you to just settle with me or anything. I’m sure you have better.’

“No Eddie. I wouldn’t be settling.” He lets out a sign. “ I should have phrased this better. Eddie, I want you. And not just for sex. Like don’t get me wrong, that’s part of it. You’re so fucking hot. But you are so funny and smart and dorky and such a good friend. I’ve been into you for so long. So um, what do you think?” All confidence and charismatic attitude is gone.

“You like me?” Eddie sputters out.

“Oh my god! Yes, Eds. I do. I like you. Honestly, I think I love you and I don’t know how else to spell it out to you. I just don’t get it, Eds? What more…” Steve is cut off by the soft lips pressed again his. It takes him a moment to realize Eddie is kissing him but when he does, he finds himself kissing back. His hands tangle in Eddie’s hair while Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist.

When they finally pull apart, Eddie asks “So you wanna add me to that list?

“Yea, I do. Eventually. But for tonight I just want to cuddle with me…boyfriend?” He asks, worried he jumped the gun.

“Yea…I want to cuddle with my boyfriend, too.” He smiles, pulling Steve into the guestroom, closing the door behind them.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #steddie fanfic #past stommy #Past Starol #Is starol a thing? Shouldn't be #A dumb little ficlet to appease the head goblins #Did not proofread #sorry #stranger things #steve x eddie

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