#there’s like so many to tag? is it fine if I don’t…

[thydungeongal]

#I don’t like encumberance bc i find it a little frustrating to do it in EXACT numbers however still within reason#i think tbh as long as your players are engaged and having fun that’s what’s important#some rules still are relevant but tbh what’s we play for is for the story so as long as the story is engaging and interesting#(which my last dm did FANTASTICALLY)#then it’s fine to use or not use whatever rules you like. that’s the whole point of the game - you can use or change or add what rules#you want to for your table!!#dnd is just the system and i disagree that you need to have dungeons. dnd is just the system and you can do what you want with it#that’s the beauty of trrpgs and why dnd is so popular imo. dms can change what they want#add in new mechanics that suit their worlds and characters and whatnot

These tags just demonstrate the issue that this post is about: people think D&D is a completely unopinionated game that you can just take whole systems out of without altering the gameplay. But D&D is a game that is opinionated about many things, resource management being one of them, and once you remove the resource management out of it you end up with a worse game with no tension and DMs suddenly having to fix a bunch of new problems that arise out of that, like having to suddenly figure out ways to challenge their party when tracking resources (this includes stuff like spell slots and daily uses of abilities) is no longer an issue except on a per-encounter level.

And honestly "DMs can change anything" is not unique to D&D. If I wanted to run a game that doesn't care about dungeon-crawling and resource management I would much rather run a different game. And I wish people in the D&D playerbase realized this as well, because not only is it bad for their game and its play culture, it also stifles creativity within the hobby.

All of which is to say: if you don't like resource management there are hundreds of games out there that don't care about resource management.

Running D&D in 2024 is like, the player community collectively convinced each other that dungeon crawls, resource management and attrition are bad, so now everyone runs games where characters can expect to get into one or two fights a day and characters are never stretched for resources, and most Reddit threads about D&D are GMs asking for help challenging their groups because of said ignoring of the resource management aspect and getting told that a good GM could make it work so obviously they must be a bad GM.

[yorkiegregg]

If you hate tiktok therians so much then delete the app. If you hate what a tiktok therian said about physical nonhumans so much then block them. If you hate tiktok then delete your account and then the app. I don’t care how harsh this sounds but you complaining about what tiktok therian number 1 said and what tiktok therian number 2 did, and posting about it in every general alterhuman tag ever to prove that you’re correct and they’re wrong, or doing it to spread “awareness”… is annoying. And also let me say this, I’m a clinical cynanthrope, I am delusional and psychotic. You making posts about how a therian on tiktok or whatnot said clinical zoanthropes shouldn’t be welcomed or are “”invalid”” to call them out gets annoying as hell because 1) we know how people act about us. we don’t need to hear it 24/7, and 2) you’re adding fuel to the fire, just fucking delete the app. or block them. I got tiktok when it gained popularity in therian circles and then deleted it because I didn’t like it and I never went back, that was so many years ago, you’re fine.

[veltana]

The winter rebound

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~3,6k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Avengers!Bucky, alcohol consumption, fluff, pwp, smut, oral (fem receiving), piv sex, safe sex, dirty talk.

✦ Summary: You go with your friend to Stark's holiday party

✦ Note: This was the first thing I wrote and published when I got back into the marvel fandom, so it's a super self-indulgent piece! But I hope you like it anyway! As always, please comment and/or reblog! Asks are always welcome!

Masterlist | AO3

It was Friday. You watched yourself in the mirror and told yourself that you would have fun tonight. Forget about your ex of five years who broke off your engagement a month before the holidays, whom you had spent the last three weeks crying over.

Tonight you were accompanying your best friend to the annual Stark holiday party, and you would not think about him once during the night, while you danced and drank yourself into a stupor.

Standing outside the huge compound made you anxious. Maybe it was too soon to meet the real world without him. No! Don’t think about that asshole! You cut yourself off before your thoughts started to spiral.

“Come on!” your friend Lily laughed. Her genuine smile was contagious and you returned it, squaring your shoulders and forcing every dumb thought down before you took her arm as the two of you made your way down the gold and red carpet. At the end, two large glass doors were opened by life-sized mechanical nutcrackers.

“I sure hope those don’t spring to life and ruin this party too,” you mumbled. Lily giggled, “Don’t worry, I helped with the software, unless Mr. Stark went a completely different direction there should be no worries.” “So there is a possibility,” you joked as the doors closed behind you.

If she answered you didn’t hear because you were too busy taking in the amazing winter-themed party. The waiters were also dressed as nutcrackers and there were dancers in amazing outfits performing all over the floor. Music played in the background and some were moving to the beat while others stood around and talked.

Honestly, you had expected more people, like at least two hundred but there were only about fifty in the huge hall. Not only the regular people, like your friend, who helped with software, hardware, management, and the day-to-day running's of the compound, but it was impossible not to notice the heroes also in attendance.

Not all of them were there, no sign of Thor or Loki, or the Guardians, but this was your first time so close to any hero ever, you would take what you could get.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to everyone,” Lily said and started to pull you along while you gazed at the shifting decorations adorning the walls, obvious to the blue eyes that followed you with interest from the bar.

Too many names spun through your brain, accompanied by the alcohol your friend had been plying you with.

Everyone you had met so far had been incredibly nice and friendly and hadn’t minded when you asked all the dumb questions about working at such a place.

Finally, it came down to the big event, meeting Mr. Stark and maybe the rest of the Avengers currently there.

Lily stepped up to her boss and greeted him and Pepper Potts like they were friends rather than her superiors and then introduced you. Not a lot of people got to shake hands with Iron Man and Pepper Potts but now you had, and it was totally normal.

“Interesting hair color,” Tony Stark pointed out. “Is it meant to look like that?” It was such an old man thing to say you could only laugh as Pepper elbowed him in the ribs. “I am sorry,” Pepper apologized but you waved it off.

“He is paying for everything I drink, so if he wants to make fun of my hair, it’s fine.” Pepper gave you a relieved look and was about to say something else when a voice interrupted.

“It looks like the Aurora Borealis.”

Bucky Barnes had appeared out of nowhere, like the skilled assassin he had been trained to be. It was like he had materialized out of thin air at your side and you jumped when he spoke.

Before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, slapping your palm against his hard chest, and said “For fuck’s sake,” while your other hand rested over the heart trying to work its way out of your chest.

Then you realized what you’d done and pulled back your hand quickly, covering your mouth. Bucky stared back at you, mouth slightly open, while Lily and Tony both cackled in amusement. “That’s what you get Barnes,” your friend pointed out.

With a crooked smile, Bucky just said, “How about I buy you a drink to make up for it?” and held out his arm. “As long as it’s crazy expensive since the old man made fun of my hair,” you shot over your shoulder at Tony as you took the offered arm.

Your friend winked at you before she returned to her conversation with Natasha Romanoff, whom you would just have to say hello to some other time.

Bucky led you the short way to the bar and you eased your way on to the chair, making sure not to get tangled in your long dress, as Bucky leaned over the bar and asked for the most expensive champagne they had.

“I’m Bucky,” he said. “I know,” you smiled at him before introducing yourself too.

In no time there were two flutes in front of you, he offered you one, saying cheers before you took the first sip. The unabashed moan that left you wasn’t meant to be sexual but Bucky stopped his glass halfway to his lips to just stare at you. It cracked you up, “Sorry,” you said, “I’ve never tasted champagne this good before.” He also took a sip, his eyes widening a little, and when he’d swallowed all he said was, “Wow.” “I could get used to this,” you took another mouth and closed your eyes.

When you opened them again you found him looking at you and it made a shiver go down your spine. For the first time in a long time, you felt desire pool in your lower belly. “Will this make up for Stark’s comment?” he asked. “It will absolutely!” you promised. “I think your hair looks great and I’m like twice his age so…” he trailed off.

“My friend, Lily, has told me about these crazy old super soldiers, but you look spry for your age,” you winked at him. “You can only imagine,” he flirted back, and your cheeks heated. You had forgotten about this, about the utter intoxication of flirting with a man and having it returned to you.

After several weeks of drought, your body suddenly knew what arousal was again and flooded you with it, making your heart beat twice as fast and your skin flush. “Oh, you want me to think of everything you can do?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “Anything you want, doll,” he leaned forward, “But I’m sure your imagination won’t hold a candle to the real thing.” “Are you going to show me?” “If you want to,” he smirked and you felt yourself grow wetter by the second.

You leaned in too, unable to resist him and not wanting to either. You wanted to get lost in him for as long as he would have you. He finished off the rest of his champagne like it was a shot of liquor.

“Come on, I have just the place,” he smiled, holding out his hand. Not even second-guessing yourself for a moment you finished your glass and let him lead you away.

Bucky took you through a side door, into a corridor that led to the heart of the compound which was now deserted, and finally into a large room with a domed ceiling.

It looked like a cinema almost, except the screen was the whole ceiling, and in the middle of the floor was an enormous sofa-like thing that easily fit several people.

After Bucky pressed something on a side panel the room lit up with the Aurora Borealis.

You let go of his hand, staring with huge eyes at the display. Maybe you had misinterpreted his intentions and they were actually pure, not at all the filthy things you had thought this would end up being.

Never had you been happier to be wrong.

This time when he appeared out of nowhere he didn’t scare you, he gripped your waist with the vibranium arm and spun you into his chest, before using his other hand to pinch your chin between his fingers.

“I’m going to kiss you, tell me if I should stop,” he breathed. Instead of answering with words you surged up and crushed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him impossibly closer.

It was almost like he expected you to be timid or something because, for a few seconds, he didn’t move, but then he rushed into action, moving his lips and kissing you like a man starved.

Desire flooded you, making every one of his touches feel like fire even through the fabric of your dress. He moved you backward until your knees hit the oversized sofa, and you laid down.

Bucky’s face was burning with desire as he looked down on you, before he could move or say anything you grabbed your skirt and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist so that you were able to spread your legs without restraint.

The growl erupting from his chest made you smile and you crooked your finger toward him. He knelt between your legs, grabbing your thighs to spread them even more before he leaned down over you to capture your lips again.

The action made the hard cock in his jeans brush against your heated core, making you moan into his mouth.

He pulled back, eyes wild, “Your sounds make me fucking crazy.” he groaned, moving his hands down your naked legs, caressing them and gripping them, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be rough or gentle.

“Hope so,” you smiled and started to tug at his suit jacket, needing to see his body. He obliged by sitting back and ridding his upper body of clothing. As soon as you could your hands splayed out across the expanse of his naked torso, feeling the hard muscles under the soft skin.

Your eyes grazed over the scars on his left shoulder but didn’t pay it any mind. The man had trauma, that was no secret, but tonight you didn’t need to delve into that. Instead, you sat up, kissing the skin you could reach and licking at his nipple, making him moan most deliciously.

He reached around you to unzip your dress and you whined when you had to move away from him to let him pull it off you. Now you were almost completely naked with the super soldier, except for the thong you wore that did little to hide anything from him, and your heels.

Without another word, he stood up and unbuttoned his pants, peeling them off and kicking off his shoes in the process, before he was back over you. Now it was his turn to taste your skin and when he closed his mouth around a nipple, using his vibranium hand to pinch the other, you released a high-pitched mewl you never heard from yourself before.

That only spurred him on, alternating between sucking and licking at you, squeezing or pinching your sensitive buds. The pleasure was too much, like you would implode or maybe even come from just him playing with your tits. You fisted the fabric under you, pushing your chest even more into him as moans and words tumbled from your lips.

“Bucky, please!” you tried forming a coherent sentence but failed. “What do you need, doll?” he asked, lips shiny with his spit as he looked up at you. “Touch me, make me come, please Bucky,” you didn’t want to wait another second for the pleasure you had missed for a lot longer than the weeks since your break up. This temporary connection with a stranger was already better than what you had experienced over several years.

“Can I taste you?” his voice was husky, filled with restrained want. “Yes!” you smiled and raised yourself on your elbows.

You watched as he kissed his way down your form, pulling off your thong and throwing it away. He grabbed your thighs and spread them wide before letting the thumb of his vibranium hand slowly drag up, separating your folds, groaning, almost whispering “Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” and leaning in to carefully lick up your spread lips. You fell back, staring up at the beautiful display as Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, one of the Avengers, ate you out with perfection.

Every move he made sent sparks through your entire body and pulled cries from you. Your hands tangled in his hair, not pulling or pushing, just needing to anchor yourself on something. Nothing would hold a candle to this for the rest of your life you suspected, because even though you had just met, Bucky Barnes took his sweet time, caressing his hands up and down your sides, down your legs, and back up again, using his tongue and lips to make your body blaze.

Your crescendo built steadily, as did your voice, the closer you got the more you pleaded and begged, even though he was doing exactly what you wanted him to. When two fingers on his right hand breached you with no problem your back bowed, the pleasure rushing through you, and when he crooked them and moved them inside you, it was everything the dam needed to break and the coil inside you snapped.

You screamed his name as the orgasm hit you like a freight train. What was even better was that he worked you through it, coaxing every last drop of pleasure out of you before you had to instead beg him to stop.

"Too much," you whimpered when the uttermost tip of his tongue gently floated across your clit. "No, darling, not enough. A man could get addicted to hearing you scream his name."

You whimpered again, your body rocking with overstimulation at every pass of his tongue. It was wonderful to hear him say those things but you needed more.

"Please tell me you have a condom so you can fuck me," you groaned and that made him stop, staring at you from between your legs before kissing up the side of your thigh to sit back on his heels before he got up. He freed himself from his underwear before he bent down to grab his pants and pulled a condom from a pocket and that gave you a chance to admire him. His cock was hard, glistening, and a lot bigger than what you were previously used to, but that only sparked more excitement in your lower stomach.

"Hands and knees, baby," he smiled and made a twirling motion with his fingers. You wasted no time rolling over, and getting into position. His flesh hand slapped your ass playfully when he knelt behind you and when you moaned he chuckled. "You like that huh?" he asked as the tip of his cock started to press into you.

He was big, you whined and whimpered with every inch he pressed into you. Maybe why he took his time eating you, because he needed you to be as aroused as possible for it to fit. You clawed at the fabric, feeling like you were having an out-of-body experience with how he filled you.

"So good, taking it all," he praised when his hips were finally flush with your ass. Trying to answer him with words was out of the question, instead, you rocked your body, feeling his cock press against everything inside you, giving you the most delicious sensation you probably ever felt.

His hand landed on your ass again and that spurred you on, starting to move a bit faster. "Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock," he sounded a little breathless and you wished you could see him. "Do you like it, darling? Do you like my cock filling you to the brim?"

Fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him you had not expected. He grabbed your hips and helped you along, starting to fuck you deep and hard, pulling almost all the way out before shoving back in again.

With every move, you cried out in sheer ecstasy. Bucky kept on telling you how good you sounded, he didn't mind at all that you were loud.

The pace was hard but not hurried, he seemed to like taking his time, not rushing through the action just to get to the finish line. But it was driving you mad, it felt like you were at the precipice constantly, ready to tip over but needing something more to do it.

Then he grabbed you around the waist and pulled you up until you were flush against his chest, his pace never stopping. "Hi, sweet thing, enjoying yourself?" he wasn't even winded and you were a panting, whimpering mess, feeling like you were about to lose it.

"Yes, Bucky, please touch me, make me come again." He kissed your shoulder, "My pleasure," was his answer and his left hand descended on your aching clit.

A shudder and a scream passed through you when he started to rub small circles over it. Suddenly you were so close to the edge you could almost taste it, and Bucky knew it too.

"That's right, come on my cock, doll. Can you do that for me? Be good and come for me?" he said between kissing up your neck, moving the arm around your waist up to grab your jaw, and turning your head to the side. The kiss was sloppy but delicious, and with the aid of his fingers and so full of his cock the orgasm took you by full force, making you shake in his grip.

He released your mouth and let the sounds you made fill up the room, pressing his mouth to the side of your head and telling you over and over again how fucking good you felt coming around him.

If he hadn’t held you up, you would have collapsed no doubt, but Bucky had no problem keeping you up as he found his own release, pressing his forehead against your neck and mumbling obscenities, his hips stuttering against your ass.

Now he was breathing heavier, holding you tight against him with both arms, letting his fingers draw random patterns on your skin.

You were in a post-orgasmic haze, only existing in that moment with no past or future, only his warm body, and a sated need. "Gonna need to let you go now, darling," he said in a low voice "Lay down." His arms loosened around you and you braced yourself with your arms and eased yourself down on your side.

Bucky got up, probably to dispose of the condom, before laying down behind you. You hadn't expected him to want to cuddle, but he draped his arm across your side, pulling you flush against him.

"You okay?" he asked in a whisper. "Fan-fucking-tastic," you answered with a small laugh and felt a million times lighter all of a sudden.

After a few minutes of laying there, you felt like you'd been gone from the party long enough, but judging by Bucky’s heavy breathing, he had fallen asleep behind you.

He didn't wake as you gathered your things. When you found the thong, you looked at it, looked over at his gorgeous form laying there, and giggled as you found his pants and stuffed the thong down his pocket.

With the help of some items in your clutch, you patched up your make-up and fixed your hair before slipping out and closing the door behind you.

It was a small miracle that you could find your way back to the party but you did and immediately went to the bar for a drink.

Lily found you minutes later and she just raised an eyebrow, you shrugged and tilted your glass towards hers, clinking them together, and then you both burst out laughing.

*

Monday rolled around and it was hard to work because you kept getting lost in the memories of Friday night.

His eyes, his scent, his voice as he said those things to you. You squeezed your legs together and stifled a low moan.

Suddenly your phone chimed and pulled you back into the real world. A text from Lily.

[So, Bucky Barnes just came by and asked for your number. I gave it, of course, just so you know!] [Okay? Did he say why he needed it?] [Apparently, you left something(????) here on Friday and he wanted to return it.] [Hmm, okay, thanks!] [What did you leave?!?!?!?] [Don't be so nosey, go back to work!]

Your stomach did a flip when the next message was from an unknown number. It had a picture attached, your thong tangled in his fingers, and the text [You left these.] For a second you imagined him using them as he got himself off. You bit your lips as you responded. [Keep them or throw them away, I have more, don't worry.] even added a little wink-emoji.

[I want to return them, personally. Are you free this afternoon?] His response was quick and very to the point.

A wonderful shudder traveled through you at the thought of seeing him again. You had meant for this to be a one-time thing, something to get you back into the world and learn to exist without your ex but there wasn't any harm in seeing where this could go, and hopefully, you would have a lot more amazing sex on top of it.

[Sure, I get off at five.]

[tkomptgoedluv]

watermelon.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.3

pt1. here | pt.2 here | pt.3

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, angst angst and even more angst, did i mention angst?, tooth-rotting fluff, so fluffy it’s honestly a little cringe <3, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 3,494.

warnings: very brief + vague reference to SA, rpf.

notes: hello!! welcome to pt.3 <3 this is probably the part that i’m most proud of, probably because it weirdly hurt the most to write. a couple fun facts about this part: reader’s coat is heavily based on one i have in real life and absolutely adore. also, i genuinely couldn’t bring myself to touch this wip for two whole days because my personal life started to match up with this storyline and i did not like it! became a little too self-indulgent. anyways — enjoy!! lemme know what you think.

love you all lots 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

in a lot of ways, the whole situation was more or less your own idea of hell — ironic, considering it all started with literally the worst night of your life.

not once did you ever think that you’d be here, that this was how things were gonna go. the fun part? you don’t even know how you got here in the first place. for someone so in the middle of it all, you know surprisingly little about what actually happened, or what you must’ve done wrong.

all that you know is that it’s different now. joost is different now.

you still text everyday, a few phone calls here and there, and you’ll see him in person a few times a month or more, but you can still feel it. the subtle lack of emotion in his messages, the only-ever increasing wait times in between responses, the missing details in his stories that you’d still end up hearing from your friends. something, at some point, shifted and joost just didn’t seem to be your joost anymore.

at first, you tried to think nothing of it. you weren’t exactly a stranger to anxiety; it’s always been just a little too easy for you to get lost inside your own head. this also wasn’t the first time that you had fallen down this rabbit hole, suddenly convinced that someone you love doesn’t even like you because they said something in a slightly different tone once.

but then those weird few days where things didn’t feel quite right turned into weeks, and it just didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

you thought it could’ve been the videos because, as predicted, entire montages of the fight found their way onto each and every little corner of the internet. joost could be seen clear as day swinging for him, landing punch after punch until one of his friends would eventually step in. though somehow, the backlash against joost never came. for every clip there was a ‘story-time’ to go right along with it, and every single one explained how joost was just defending ‘this girl that had been attacked by that guy.’

so instead you exhausted yourself asking if everything was alright, just in case there was something else going on that he also hadn’t told you. but there was only so many times that you could ask the same question over and over again, only to get the same answer back.

joost was fine; great even.

so it had to be you. nothing was wrong, nothing bad had happened, it was simply just you that had repelled him all of a sudden. and that was all you could think about whilst you sat in a room surrounded by your closest friends — joost included.

it was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend who’s name was still unknown to you and yet somehow you still ended up with an invite. aspon was on your left, deep in a conversation with stuntje about some new anime you’d never heard of, and alanis was on your right, asking to see pictures of daan’s latest art piece.

you, of course, were there in between them all, just staring into space. all of the ice in your drink had melted as it sat forgotten about in your hands, and you were fairly confident that you had memorised each and every scratch in the wooden flooring. you were yet to find a better place to look other than the floor, because of course it was joost that had to be sat opposite you.

he had pulled the short straw really, because by the time he came back in from his cigarette outside, the only seat left was one of those awful, plastic fold-up chairs. like the others he too was wrapped up in a conversation of his own, only his included a girl that you’d never seen before, and he was making her laugh a lot.

you didn’t have a single right to absolutely despise what it was that you were seeing, but still your skin felt hot and itchy, and tears burned behind your eyes. despite arriving together in your group and being seated a measly three feet away from each other, joost was yet to even glance in your direction, let alone talk to you. the blatant avoidance was unbearable; the new ‘you’ that he was talking to was even worse.

but with the anger came the shame, because really, you had no excuse to be feeling like this. two strangers with mutual friends, talking with one another at a house party of all places, wasn’t exactly incriminating. they also weren’t touching or even flirting for that matter — from what you could hear, their conversation seemed limited to small anecdotes about the people in common they both knew.

you weren’t being fair, you weren’t being reasonable; there was no excuse for the tightness in your chest.

without a word, you got up and made a dash for the balcony; desperate for a cigarette. so desperate in fact, that you didn’t stop to grab your jacket despite the rain bashing against the windows. you just needed the fresh air, needed space away from whatever the fuck was going on in there.

the small roof that the balcony upstairs provided did little to shield you from the rain. your hair quickly fell damp around the sides of your face as the wind brought goosebumps to your arms. you really should’ve stopped to grab your coat, you were soaking now.

but the pure, unbridled relief that you felt when you breathed in the smoke of your cig made it all worth it, though. it was something else to focus on, something to help soothe all of your aches and pains. best of all, it gave you a reason to be by yourself for a while — a moment alone to think, to breathe, a chance to get a fucking grip.

you took another drag of your cigarette.

“think you forgot this, schatje.”

over the sound of the heavy-falling rain and the music from inside, you hadn’t heard the balcony door slide open and shut again.

from the corner of your eye you saw joost standing there, clad in a black gilet and the same adidas track-jacket that you had bought for him two birthdays ago. your coat was in his outstretched hands; a big, red furry thing that almost swallowed you whole every time you put it on.

“yeah…thanks.”

you wanted to cry.

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward; neither of you could even look at each other as you took your jacket from him and slipped it on. whilst you focused on looking outwards towards the skyline, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill, joost busied himself with lighting up a cigarette of his own. it felt like you were standing next to a stranger, and not someone who quite literally knew every single little thing about you.

someone who always picked up the phone when you called; someone whose bed you’ve woken up naked in just a few too many times to count.

“you, uh, you doing okay?”

you almost choked on your cigarette.

he’d barely even glanced your way all night, too distracted by other female attention to really care that you were there at all, and now he wanted to know how you were doing? oh he had to be joking.

you stubbed out your cig underneath your shoe and went to storm back inside, shoving past him with your shoulder as you did so. you had almost made it too, before he caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back. it really pissed you off how hurt he looked, like this wasn’t all his fault in the first place.

“hey, can we not just talk for a minute? i wanna know what’s been up with you recently. we don’t really talk anymore.”

as hard as you could you pushed him off of you, and then you pushed him once more for good measure. you couldn’t bite it back anymore, couldn’t keep it all from spilling out when your blood was already boiling. if you were to regret it in the morning, you would just blame it on the few drinks you’ve already had.

“and why the fuck do you think that is, joost? tell me.”

a small part of you that you really couldn’t quite understand, genuinely hoped that he would push you back. that he’d get all up in your face, yelling at the top of his lungs, just as angry with you as you were with him. you wanted him to shout, to scream at you about how wrong you were; you wanted to feel crazy for even thinking that something could ever go wrong between the two of you.

you didn’t want him to just…stand there with his tail tucked between his legs, looking like he had already given up on you a long time ago. you found yourself shoving him again, only hard enough to knock him back a step or two this time.

“tell me!”

now more than ever you wished that you could stay angry, that you knew how to hold onto the outrage instead of always just breaking down into pieces. it made you feel so small the way that your voice was cracking; your shouts quickly shrinking into cries. you felt like a child again, begging to understand why everyone always left in the end.

“i just needed to work some stuff out, okay? none of this was meant to happen. i never wanted to make you cry.”

you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, the state of your mascara becoming an afterthought, before raking your fingers through your hair. thin strands stuck to the corners of your face and the back of your neck.

“please, tell me what i can do to make it better.”

joost was panicking now, looking a lot like an old dog that somehow knew it was about to be left behind at the shelter. you could see it in the way his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from one leg to another.

“you can tell me what happened; what changed or what i did wrong. i don’t care.”

from the look on his face, you never would have guessed that all you’d asked him for was the truth; ‘panicked’ was no longer the right word.

“i can’t. i promise, i’ll tell you later but i can’t tell you here. not like this.”

you laughed — you couldn’t help it. three months ago, when you asked him why he was so insistent on doing anything and everything for you, he gave you the exact same line. either he forgot that he’s already used it once before, or he thought you were stupid enough to fall for it all over again; either way, you knew now that ‘later’ was never coming.

before you really knew what you were doing, you were back inside and weaving your way through the small huddles of your friends. a few stared as you began to tread water through the house, a long line of watery footprints following behind you on your way out. you muttered a quiet ‘i’ll see you guys later’ to whoever was listening and in one smooth motion, grabbed your bag from one of the tables and disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind you.

no one tried to stop you. probably for good reason, too, because you could feel the makeup running down your face.

the only good thing to come from looking so sad and drenched from the rain was that nobody on the street stopped to bother you either. not many people were out in this weather anyway, so at most you felt their eyes on you as they passed, a look of pity on their faces. pity for a girl all dressed up for a nice night out, just to be walking home early in tears.

you didn’t want their pity, you just wanted to go home. you wanted your bed and your pyjamas. you wanted a nice warm shower and to try and forget that today ever fucking happened.

you didn’t want joost to be chasing after you.

you didn’t want to hear your name being yelled from down the street by the one person you didn’t want to see right now.

“cmon you always do this! stop running away from everything.”

that was the thing to get you; the one thing that made you stop and turn on the spot.

“oh i’m the one running away? you’re the one that left!”

you met him halfway with steam coming out of your ears, your hands trembling and nose all scrunched up. you were fuming and it seemed as though he was now, too.

“i never went anywhere! you’re making it sound like i disappeared off the face of the earth or something.”

“well that’s what it felt like! what about that don’t you understand?”

you were each taking turns yelling now, oblivious to how loud you were actually being. people were sticking their heads out of their living room windows, morbidly curious about the scene that was unfolding right outside their homes. those that walked by did double-takes and even contemplated getting their phones out to record.

“but i’m here now! and i was ‘here’ back there and you just ran away like you always do!”

“did you really expect me to just stand there and listen to you lie again? all this ‘oh i’ll tell you later’ crap, it’s just bullshit. ever since that night you’ve been different and if what that guy did to me changed how you see me then maybe you’re right, maybe we should stop being whatever the fuck we are.”

joost physically recoiled at your words, his entire demeanour changing to one of hurt.

“what are you..? schatje no, no, it’s nothing like that. fuck, please tell me you don’t really think that.”

how could you not? it was the only thing left for you to think. it wasn’t like you wanted to come to that conclusion or that it was the first one you jumped to, but joost never gave you any other choice. as much as it hurt, it was better than simply not knowing.

something died in him when you nodded — you saw it in his eyes. tears of his own spilled down his cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down his face, wiping his nose with the inside of his elbow.

“i…i would never; that guy…that wasn’t your fault.”

“then tell me the truth, joost.”

all that adrenaline, all that energy from before was long gone. you weren’t two people arguing in the rain, full of love and anger like something straight out of a romcom anymore. you were just two people standing out in the cold, soaked to the bone, just trying to hold on for a little while longer.

you were still waiting for joost to say something, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. if he was to say that same shit again, that he couldn’t tell you now but would later on, that would be it for you. you’d walk away and not turn back again, not for anything; just like that it would be game over.

but joost wasn’t saying anything, and you couldn’t decide if that was any better or not. he was silent as he took a couple steps towards you, the palms of his hands suddenly cupping either side of your jaw. the pads of his thumbs wiped away all the tears and rain from your eyes and tucked the odd strands of hair behind your ears. not once did he glance away from your gaze, not once did he say something.

it was driving you crazy.

“joost?” you were pleading with him now, desperate for him to say something — do something. the way he was looking at you, it was like you were the only thing he could see. “say something.”

“i love you.”

you blinked, and all of sudden you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands anymore. it wasn’t the first time joost had said that to you because he says it to everyone, every single one of his friends. but he had never said it to you like that before, with a look in his eyes so heavy you feared that they might fall right out of his head.

“what?” your voice cracked as you spoke. “i don’t understand…what?”

“i love you. that’s what changed.”

a headache was coming, you could feel it. right behind your eyes, you felt a twinge, and then a subtle thumping that made your eyebrows twitch. you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the more you tried to make sense of it the more your head hurt.

“i swear to god if this is a fucking joke, if you’re just making this up -”

he shut you up with a kiss.

it wasn’t exactly for the first time or even close to being so, but it felt as though it could’ve been; all soft, gentle, careful. the hands that held either side of your face did so as though you could’ve cracked and shattered at any second. he moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until he felt you turn into mush beneath him. only then did he pull away, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

but you couldn’t let him have it though, could you? couldn’t just let him have the upper hand, just like that. you had to chase it, had to pull him down to your height by the collar of his jacket until your lips could meet his. by the time you were finished, both shaking and breathless, there were faint smudges of red all across his mouth.

“that was so hot; do it again.”

you laughed at his words for not the first time tonight, but now it was only out of pure joy instead of anything else. you laughed because of how out of it joost looked now, his eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly as he panted. you laughed because of how much you did want to do it again and how you felt giddy knowing that joost wanted you to do it again too.

so you did. only this time joost was ready and pounced on you hard enough to knock you back a couple of steps, almost making you slip on the wet pavement. his fingers lost themselves in your hair, gently tugging at the roots as yours gripped onto the nylon of his jacket for dear life, too afraid to let go and risk letting him slip away.

you would have stayed like that with him all night if it wasn’t for the wolf whistle you heard from one of the windows above, followed by the rumble of thunder. the rain was starting to fall harder now, the storm only growing and you didn’t like knowing that people were watching you now.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here — people are looking.”

with his forehead resting against yours, joost simply groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. his hands still cradled the back of your head and his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“don’t care. need you.”

he may as well have been one of the puddles at your feet, the way he couldn’t even form proper sentences anymore. the things you were doing to him right now were criminal, almost cruel, and you were loving every minute of it. proud of it, actually. you might have been mush in his hands, but he was like putty in yours.

“well…maybe you should take me home then, yeah? then you can need me as much as you like.”

joost groaned again, muttering something about how you were ‘going to be the death of him’, and leaned back in. from your nose to your cheeks, to your chin, every inch was peppered with very sweet, very wet kisses.

“have i told you much i love you yet?”

he had, at least a handful of times by now, but not nearly enough as you would’ve liked. so you shrugged, a shit-eating grin plastered across your face as you did so, and stepped back, lacing your fingers with his.

“it’s okay, you can tell me one more time.”

apparently that was way too far for you to go, because after one singular step you were tugged back again and kissed as though joost’s very life depended on it. ironic, considering you were certain that you were both about to be struck by lightning at any moment.

“i love you.”

you figured if that were to happen by some chance, it’d be worth it if it meant staying here with him for just a little while longer.

“i love you too.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

for charity

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'formal'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated t | 495 words | cw: a little sexual tension | tags: pre-steddie, banter, flashback

🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻

“It’s literally for charity,” Steve groans. “Just put on the suit!”

“It’s itchy!” Eddie argues. “And the pants are weird.”

“The pants are weird.”

Steve is looking at him like he’s grown an extra head. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last.

“They fit like pj pants but aren’t pj pants material so when I sit and walk, everything chafes,” Eddie explains calmly.

“You don’t have a choice,” Steve holds up the pants. “It’s only for a few hours.”

“A few hours of torture!” Eddie whines as he takes the pants from Steve. He strips his sweatpants off and pouts.

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he pulls the slacks on, buttoning them up and hoping he can get away with not wearing a belt. No one said anything about belts being required.

“You didn’t tuck in your shirt,” Steve says as he walks up to him, not quite hiding the fond smile breaking out across his face.

“I refuse.”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs Eddie closer by the waistband of his pants. He stuffs the shirt into them, sloppy at first, then slowing down so he can make sure it looks right.

He’s too focused to notice Eddie’s face going red, to hear his quiet gasp at the feeling of Steve’s hands against his waist. They’ve always been touchy with each other, but this feels intimate, different.

“There.”

Steve’s hands are still at his hips, gently resting as he finally makes eye contact with Eddie. He looks proud of himself, and Eddie thinks now is the perfect time to kiss him.

Except it isn’t. They have to be at this charity ball for the children’s hospital in less than an hour. If Eddie kisses him now, they won’t make it to the event.

They’ll either be too busy doing other things or Eddie will be going into the witness protection program for ruining his friendship with Steve.

Eddie breathes in, forces a smile, and pulls away.

“Fine. You win. I look great.” Eddie laughs and it almost sounds normal. “I suppose you expect me to wear those god awful shoes too?”

Steve looks down at his feet and crosses his arms. “You can’t wear your sneakers. Or boots.”

“The boots were just cleaned though!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie knows it’s not real annoyance. If it was, he would have stopped arguing and walked out of the room a while ago.

“The nice shoes.” Steve steps closer and arranges a strand of Eddie’s hair, moving it behind his ear. He steps back. “We leave in ten minutes. Don’t forget your phone.”

Eddie gulps.

He has no idea how he’s gonna make it through this night, especially not when he watches Steve walk away and sees the way his pants fit his ass.

He’ll have to keep his indecent thoughts in the back of his mind yet again.

Maybe someday he’ll be able to say them out loud.

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day nine ❆ mirror sex

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

getting ready for a friend's christmas party turns out to be difficult when gaz keeps interrupting. 1.5k

❆ pairing: gaz x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; cheeky kyle; fingering; praise; watching yourself/mirror sex

“Kyle, darling, do I look alright?” You call out from the bathroom in hopes that your boyfriend was nearby to hear it. After one too many internal debates about how you looked, you decided it was best to call in the man who never got tired of looking at you. Granted, he’d say you looked good no matter what, but a little confidence boost wouldn’t hurt.

Especially not when you wanted to cringe at the anxiety in your gaze staring back at you in the mirror. Huffing a sigh and running your hands over your dress did little to soothe your raging nerves. It felt like being an insecure teenager all over again—Am I overdressed? Is this too much makeup? Will this still look good with a jacket? The internal monologue was never-ending and consistently annoying. All it did was eat up time that quickly ticked away as the Christmas party grew closer.

The soft patter of footsteps comes from the side before Kyle appears in your peripheral, standing in the doorway to the bathroom. You find his lack of response…odd. Unlike him. Looking over at him, you find his eyes looking at just about every part of you that wasn’t your face.

“Kyle,” you call out again, softer this time, hoping it’ll grab his attention. When he still doesn’t make eye contact, only humming in response as his gaze lingers on your chest, you relent. “Is this…okay? Do I look alright?”

That makes him look you in the eye. He stares at you for a moment before sauntering into the room. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he settles behind you, resting his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He holds your gaze in the mirror, soft brown eyes boring into you. 

“Are you seein’ what I’m seein’?” He gestures vaguely to the reflections.

“I think so.”

“Then you should know you look fuckin’ gorgeous,” the last half of his sentence is muffled against your neck as he dips his head to plant a kiss on your soft skin. “You could rival a damn princess lookin’ like this, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Well, I don’t know about that. But thank you.”

“Well, I do.” His kisses turn heavier, wet flicks of his tongue, as his hands skirt down to your hips. “I almost don’t wanna leave now. I want my princess all to myself.”

“Kyle—”

“I know, I’m a selfish bastard aren’t I?” His teeth brush against the curve of your jaw, nipping playfully. “But I can’t help it when you look this good.”

“Going to the party was your idea,” you remind him with a playful nudge of your elbow. “I regret asking for your input. Go on, I need to finish getting ready.”

“...What else d’you need to do?”

“My hair’s a mess.” You gesture to your head like the thought is obvious. To you, it was. Though you had a tendency to nitpick your looks in time like these. 

Kyle studies your reflection for a moment, an incredulous look on his face like he can’t figure out what else you could possibly do to your hair. “That’s fine,” he shrugs. “You can do your hair.”

But he doesn’t slip away like you’d intended him to do. Instead, he keeps his hands planted firmly on you, running them up and down your sides, trailing over your curves like he hasn’t touched them countless times before. You stand and wait for him to move away, but it never happens.

“Kyle.”

“Mm?”

“Are you gonna let me finish getting ready?”

“I am letting you finish.” He says it so matter-of-factly. “Go on and do your hair. I can keep my hands down here,” he emphasizes by groping a handful of your ass, “and stay out of your way.”

You didn’t believe that for one damn minute. Staying out of your way wasn’t possible when he got his hands on you. What would start out as innocent touches and “no, baby, we don’t have to fuck, just let me feel you up,” would turn into desperate sex in the blink of an eye. You weren’t very good at keeping yourself from getting distracted, and he was perfect at grabbing your attention. 

…So maybe that’s why you didn’t question it when hands on your hips turned to one dipped beneath your dress. And why kisses on your neck turned to filthy words in your ear. You had barely done anything to your hair before he got you distracted. 

“Ky’...” You whined while trying to keep yourself stood straight. “I need to finish up.”

His fingers ran over your slit, spreading you open as they glided through the slick arousal clinging to your skin. Your clit was already swollen and puffy from where he’d been teasing you while you tried to focus. His fingertips circle your entrance and you nearly feel your knees buckle underneath your.

“‘M not stoppin’ you, love.” He mutters against your temple before kissing the sweat on your brow. 

“Yes you are…fuck, you’re teasin’ me like a bastard…”

“Not my fault you can’t focus.”

Your retort is interrupted by a shameless moan as his fingers slide inside you, embarrassingly easy thanks to how wet you were. You have to lean over the countertop to hold yourself up as your knees go weak. How the hell he didn’t find himself distracting was beyond you; burying his fingers to the knuckle inside you didn’t exactly help you get ready any quicker. 

Looking in the mirror before you, you found Kyle practically studying your face. He watched the way your lips fell open and your eyes fluttered when he pushed deep. It’s almost like he was testing what reactions he could get out of you. Curling and twisting and pressing his fingers, he wanted to see you squirm.

He settles his chin on your shoulder, smiling when you lean your head against his. “Look at you, there’s my pretty girl,” the smooth softness of his voice makes your cunt flutter around his digits. 

His lips hit your cheek in a soft peck, the complete opposite of the intensity in his eyes. You felt like he wanted to devour you, lil you’d never leave this bathroom again if he could have things his way. A Christmas party was the last thing on your mind despite still being dressed up for it. The more he touched you, the insistent pressure against that sweet spot deep in your cunt, the more you wanted to stay home with him. 

“Fuck, you’re annoying, you know that?” You huff between moans. There’s no real bite to it, and he knows that—the tight hug of your slick walls around his fingers proved that plenty true. 

Kyle chuckles in your ear. “Ah, you love it.” You did, but you’d never admit it. Especially not when you were trying to prove a point about wasting time. “Love it when I give my princess what she needs, huh?”

His fingers curl just right, focusing in on that spot that made you jerk on every thrust. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, knuckles white as you grip the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for his hand supporting you, you might’ve stumbled on your weak legs. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, blown-out pupils staring back at you, painted lips stuck under teeth as you bite your lip.

“Yeah, look at yourself, baby.” His encouragement is enough to convince you despite how awkward it feels at first. “Look how pretty you are when you cum for me.” 

You can feel his eyes on you, see him in your peripheral, his gaze branding you like an iron as he worked you over the edge. It was strange watching your mouth drop as a sharp moan poured from your throat, seeing your body quiver as you jerked into his hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to watch your entire orgasm hit you, too overwhelmed by the constant fullness that sent sparks through your body. 

Thankfully, Kyle seemed more concerned with making your pleasure last instead of policing where your eyes were. He battered that soft, sensitive spot, groaning in your ear when you soaked his hand in your cum. He kept himself pressed close, an arm wrapped around you to support your weight in case you needed it. 

An almost smothering amount of kisses covered the side of your face, trailing from your temple to the curve of your neck. It was almost like he wanted to keep you distracted with the sensation as he slid his fingers out of you. A soft pat to your thigh and he’s pulling your dress back into place like nothing happened. You stare at your reflection for a moment, noticing the slight smudges of makeup where his lips brushed over your skin and the small red marks he left spackled along your neck.

“C’mon,” he sighs with one last kiss to your cheek. “We better get goin’. Don’t wanna keep anyone waiting, yeah?” He slinks out of the bathroom before you can catch your breath and respond. So much for looking nice.

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VIV: Want This Like a Cigarette

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: colorblind by movements (acoustic), guilty pleasure by chappell roan, grudges by paramore

chapter tags: yearning, angst, missed opportunities, miscommunication, all the fun stuff! drinking, smoking (weed, cigarettes), adult language and scenarios | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

summary: you continue to piece together the mystery of your brother's sentence, learning little by little exactly what happened.

a/n: act I of god knows how many is coming to a close! things are about to get.... well. I don't wanna spoil anything. disregard!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Please reblog and comment to support the author!

--

You arrive at Steve and Robin’s a few hours before you’re supposed to leave for the concert. You feel the giddiness in your chest, the looming excitement of finally seeing one of your favorite artists live. That feeling quickly fades when you see the van parked outside of your friends’ place.

Inside the apartment, Steve pours four shots, one for each of you, and Eddie who’s lounging on the couch with a beer in his hand. You try not to stare, but it’s difficult to look away from the display; Eddie dressed in leather pants and a cropped t-shirt, his battle vest draped over the arm of the couch. His hair is tied into a low ponytail, revealing a dangly earring swinging against his neck. You clear your throat, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. 

“Bee! Come in! Have a shot, I call it the Pink Pony.” Steve gestures dramatically to the kitchen island.

You laugh, reaching to strip your jacket from your shoulders. “What exactly is a Pink Pony shot?” You humor him, knowing you’ll probably regret it.

“It’s vodka, pink lemonade, and glitter.” Robin deadpans, plucking one of the glasses from the lineup. “Steve found this drinkable glitter shit online. To me it just looks like Edward Cullen pissed in here.” She closes one eye, inspecting the drink, but ultimately decides it’s worth the risk and downs it in one gulp. Her face scrunches as if she’s in pain, and she shakes her head wildly. “Delish.” She gives an extremely unconvincing thumbs up, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Here,” He hands another glass to you, “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

You gesture the glass to your friends before throwing it down your throat, trying desperately not to wince as it burns in your stomach. “This is…”

“Gasoline.” Eddie adds from the couch. “Jet fuel, even.”

You nod. “He’s right. Steve, where the fuck did you buy this shit?”

“I dunno! I got an ad on TikTok.”

There's a collective groan from the three of you, followed by various exclamations of Steve’s naive purchase. “It might actually be vampire piss!” You joke, earning a giggle from Eddie that makes your stomach flutter. 

“You guys suck.” Steve pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Steve, baby, you’re good at so many things. Making drinks just isn’t one of them.” Robin gives her roommate a loving pat on the shoulder, and he surrenders. 

“It is not that bad.” He takes his own shot, and fails miserably to hide his disgust. “Fine, I digress. Bee, you wanna make the next round?”

You sigh, approaching your friends in the kitchen, and feeling Eddie rise from the couch behind you. “You know I’m not working tonight, right?”

Robin juts her lip out. “Please, Bee? We can’t suffer through another round of Pink Pony farts.”

Steve gasps, but you throw your head back with laughter. “Alright, fine. If it means saving the lives of my friends, I guess I’ll do it for free. Just this once, though.” You snatch the glitter from Steve’s hand. “None of this shit, though.” And you dump it down the sink while Robin holds Steve back from lunging at you.

Once the damage is done, you turn to where Steve keeps his alcohol, on the rack by the fireplace. You peek through his half empty bottles, returning with a few you can use. “This, friends and Eddie, is the Bazooka Joe.” You place the Irish cream, banana liqueur, and blue curacao on the counter. “It’s supposed to taste like bubblegum.” You eyeball the measurements, filling each shot glass with the liquids, creating a milky teal color. Your friends each take one, throwing them down quickly. Their reactions are mixtures of shock and pleasant surprise.  

Eddie is the next to speak. “I don’t have any drink recipes to offer, but if anyone would like to join me on the balcony for a joint,” He pulls one from behind his ear, “speak now or forever hold your peace.” His eyes meet yours then, and you can’t dismiss it as an accident. He’s asking you to come out.

“I’m good,” Robin says, narrowing her eyes at Eddie. “Don’t like to smoke before going out in public.” 

Steve starts, “Ooh, I’ll—,” but stops short when Robin shoves her elbow into his side. “I’m good,” he coughs, “You guys go ‘head.”

You frown. He knows your rule, but he makes that stupid pouty face at you anyway. “C’mon, Bee. Don’t make me smoke alone.”

Rolling your eyes, you secede. “Fine. I’ll make a one time exception to the rule. On one condition.”

“What's that?”

“No talking.”

—

He lasts all of five minutes. “This is stupid.” You shake your head, refusing to indulge. “That’s fine. I’ll talk. You can keep not-talking.” He hands you the joint, and you take it, inhaling sweet smoke as Eddie continues, disregarding your agreement. “I wanna apologize. For a lot of things, actually. Last night, that wasn’t cool. I shouldn’t have sunk to his level, I don’t know what came over me.” You sense him staring at you, but fight the urge to look at him. Instead you keep your eyes forward, staring into the darkness of your neighborhood. He sighs, and continues, “And I’m so, so sorry about everything with your brother. It wasn’t easy for me either, y'know. Chris and I were best friends. But I couldn’t not listen to him. He did it to save my stupid ass.”

You finally look at him, passing him the joint as you try to read his face. “What do you mean by saving your ass?” The riddles are tired, and you can’t stand the thought of never getting the whole story. 

He inhales before responding, “The cops already had it out for me. Since the second I turned eighteen, they waited for me to screw up. Pretty sure they had a bet on when I’d get arrested.” His tone is light, but you can see the sadness on his face as he recalls it. “I begged Chris not to tell you. He told me he wouldn’t, but only because he wanted me to. He made me promise to take care of you, and I broke that promise. You already hated me so much when you found out I snitched, you couldn’t even look at me. We stopped talking. I didn’t think telling you would change anything.” 

The information sinks into your skin, and you have to focus on a tree in the distance to stop the world around you from spinning. You cycle through the stages of grief on a loop, getting emotional whiplash each time you try to make sense of what Eddie’s just said to you. Finally, you land on anger and stay there. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, bewildered. “What?”

“Eddie, if you had just told me all of this six years ago–”

“I couldn’t, Bee. I wanted more than anything to tell you, but I couldn’t get out of my own way.”

The buzzing in your head is loud, disorienting. “So you ran away instead?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in concentration. “Bee, listen–” 

“Eddie, please. Stop talking.” This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. You slide the screen door open, returning to the warmth of inside, trying not to let your friends read the shock and pain written plainly on your face. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

–

Lining up for concerts used to be one of your favorite hobbies. If a show had general admission, you’d park yourself outside the venue for hours, holding your spot in the hopes that the artist would sweat on you. As you’ve gotten older, you’ve realized it is definitely not worth the hassle of waiting outside all day, sitting on the concrete until your butt falls asleep. When you and your friends arrive at the venue, the doors are already open, and a bouncer is leading you to the VIP lounge, where you give them your names. It earns you a few glares from people in the general admission line.

“Swanky!” Robin exclaims when she enters the green room, which is actually pretty lackluster. The dressing room holds a long fold out table filled full of snacks and drinks, parallel to an old couch with garish print that you’re sure probably hasn't been cleaned in decades. 

“Sure, if that’s how you wanna put it.” The giggling comes from behind you, where Macy is leaning against the doorframe. “Hi, guys! Really glad you could make it.” She approaches you first, pulling you into an unexpected embrace. “Hi, doll! So nice to see you.” Something about her disposition puts you off, her smile looks plastic. 

Macy makes her rounds, greeting each of your friends with a hug before turning to her boyfriend. “Hi, honey.” She stands on her tiptoes to daintily plant a kiss on his cheek, and the grin he wears is wide. You squint at the couple, trying to read them. “Make yourselves at home, we go on in half an hour. See you out there!” She gives a wave in the general direction of the room, and exits back to what you assume is her dressing room.

“This is so cool. Eddie, hold on to this one, yeah?” Steve plucks a cookie from the plate, and Robin gives him an expression of disbelief. “What?” He asks, mouth full. She just shakes her head. 

–

The lights dim a few minutes after eight p.m., and the incoming crowd cheers with excitement. You and your friends are lined up across the barricade, off to one side to avoid the screaming teenagers only here for Chappell. You’re between Eddie and Robin, Steve on Robin’s other side yelling something in her ear you can’t make out. 

A backing track fades in as the band takes the stage, and Macy approaches the mic stand. “Welcome to the show, everyone! We are Statuesque Dolls, from Hawkins, Indiana!” Zoe clicks her drumsticks together, and they start in on what you can only describe as a pop rock power ballad. Macy’s voice is stunning, you have to admit, reaching octaves you could only ever dream of reaching. The audience gets into it, swaying and dancing along to the rhythm, heads nodding to the beat. Some kids in the front are even singing, never missing a word Macy sings, and she points them out with a beaming grin on her face. Though you try, you can’t bring yourself to enjoy the set. The music is right up your alley of taste, and the band’s stage presence is nothing short of incredible, but the feeling of Eddie’s shoulder rubbing against yours as he belts out the words makes your chest tight, and every time Macy smiles at him you feel a throbbing in your temples.

Finally, they end their set, waving to the crowd before stepping off stage. Eddie announces he’s getting a drink, and nudges you. “Come with me?”

You glance at Robin, and swear you see her nod, as if giving you permission. “Okay.” You follow Eddie out of the crowd, over to the bar where a mass of people have gathered to attempt getting a drink.

“That was good, huh?” You ask feebly, trying to make small talk.

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, they’re really good.” His tone is flat, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“What’s up with you?”

He shakes his head, causing his already frizzy curls to fly around his face. “We uh, broke up. Me and Macy, I mean.”

You can’t help but drop your jaw, quickly shutting it when, even in the dim room, you see him blush with embarrassment. “Oh, shit. Eddie. I’m sorry. Wait, but she kissed you like, an hour ago?”

“Yeah, it was pretty amicable. I’m not, like, hurting over it. The band is going on tour after this, and I have, like, no interest in a long distance relationship.”

For some reason, it pisses you off. “But you still love her?”

“Whoa, Bee. Who said anything about love? I told you, it was pretty casual to begin with. What’s got you freakin’ out?” You think you sense teasing in his voice.

“I’m not freaking out, I guess I’m confused. You don’t think she’s worth the effort?” 

He chuckles lightly as you approach the bar, ordering a cider for yourself and a beer for Eddie. “Of course she is. I’m not, though. She deserves better than that. Does it bother you?” 

You roll your eyes, handing the bartender far too much cash for just two drinks. “You just said it wasn’t that serious, why would you care what I had to say about it?”

“Do you have something to say about it?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded hopeful.

You pretend to ponder his question, then deadpan, “No. Believe it or not, I don’t give a shit about what you do with your dating life. You might break Steve’s heart if you tell him, though.”

Eddie visibly deflates as you hand him his drink. “Fuck, you’re right. You tell him.”

“No! I’m not doing your dirty work for you, Munson. Time to grow a pair.” With that, you breeze past him, back into the crowd. 

–

“Thank you, Indy, I have been Chappell Roan!” The redhead onstage is a dream, absolutely stunning in a sparkly, pink, and complicated outfit. The fan blows her curly locks around, and you’d been so mesmerized that you’re only now registering the show is almost over. 

She ends with pink Pony Club, causing Robin and Steve to jump around, screaming their voices hoarse, and you join them. By the end, you’re sweating bullets, makeup practically sliding down your face.

When she leaves the stage, you feel the relief of the crowd leaving, their weight that had been pressed to your back for hours finally fading. “That was insane. She’s incredible. Ethereal, really.” Steve is raving as you follow your friends out of the venue and into the cold of the night. “Eddie, man, you gotta go on tour.”

Eddie shrugs shyly. “Yeah, I’m workin’ on it, man.”

“No, man! With Macy, be the tour wife! You’ll get to see her all the time, and Macy! Her band is awesome, I can’t believe–”

“Steve, Macy and I broke up.”

He stops in his tracks. “What? Why? What did you do?”

“Why do you always think I did something?”

“Because you always do something. Remember in high school when you wanted to ask-”

“Okay! Enough. For your information, I didn’t do anything. I just don’t want anything serious right now.”

It barely satisfies Steve, but he backs off with a huffed “Okay, whatever!” You look from the boys to Robin, who’s already staring at you, seemingly studying your reaction.

“What?” You ask her, and she shakes her head. 

“Anyone want food? I’m buying.” Steve offers, earning collective nods and mumbles of affirmation. Eventually, you end up at a late night diner, and Eddie holds the door open for the rest of you. 

–

You arrive home past midnight, eyes and limbs heavy with sleep. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right Bee?” Robin asks. You nod, only just now remembering you promised to help Steve set up his and Robin’s new entertainment center. “Okay, cool. I’ll get us coffee!” Your friends and Eddie all say goodbye, and the car pulls away as you enter your house, foregoing the shower you’re definitely going to need in favor of sleeping longer. 

When you’re finally cozied up in bed, your phone buzzes.

Eddie (block later): Thx for listening. Gn bee.

You decide against a real reply, instead tapping the Thumbs Up reaction, and locking your phone before rolling over. Sleep doesn’t come, though, despite how physically tired you are. Your brain is wired, thoughts racing by too quickly to focus on. Every thought you’ve shoved aside, rushing at you at once. Most of them are questions you can’t answer on your own; Why did Eddie tell you about his breakup? Why is he suddenly being so fucking nice to you? Has he always been this goddamn pretty?

You groan, shoving your face into your pillow to stifle the noise. Unfortunately, that telepathy you share with your brother hasn’t gone away, even after six years apart.

“Hey,” Your bedroom door cracks open to reveal Chris’s forehead, illuminated by the hall light behind him. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head before remembering you’re in the dark. “No. You?”

“Nah.” He opens the door fully, stepping into the dark of your room. “How was your night?”

“Really… good?”

“You sound unsure.” He throws himself down on the end of your bed, bouncing you up and down with the mattress. “What happened?”

You pause, unsure of how much Chris needs to know. Ultimately, you know you can’t hide anything from him, even though he’d spent the last six years pretty much conspiring with Eddie against you. “Nothing, really. We went to the show, it was fantastic. I had a really good time.”

“And…?”

“And nothing!”

“Then why are you groaning into your pillow like a child throwing a tantrum?” He snickers, and you whack his arm. “C’mon, something’s bugging you.”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna sound stupid.”

“You’re my little sister, everything you say sounds stupid.”

“Wow, Chris. Thanks, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.” You sit up, tucking your comforter into your waist. “Seriously, you’re gonna think I’m insane.”

“Well, I already do, so you got nothing to lose.”

“It’s something Eddie told me.” He doesn’t speak, waiting for you to continue. “He said you told him to rat you out. That’s not true, is it?”

Your brother sighs, bringing his legs up onto your bed to mirror you. “Would it change anything if I said yes?” You huff, waiting for him to continue. “Bee,” Chris flops onto his stomach. “You ‘hate’ Eddie for something I told him to do. You iced him out because of me. I know you probably don’t want to admit it to yourself, but I am the reason you and Eddie don’t get along. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d up and leave you, I never would have expected that from him. He lo–” He stops himself short, then continues instead, “He cares about you so much, kid. I feel awful for ruining that.”

It hurts your brain, hearing Chris confirm that gnawing feeling you’ve had for days, since Eddie blurted out the same truth in a fit of anger. Now it washes over you like a tidal wave, suffocating you under its weight. “It’s not too late to fix things with him, Bee. I know he’s been a little weird lately, but I can understand why. Just, give him a chance to redeem himself. For me?”

“Chris, why the fuck would I do anything for you after you told me all that? You basically just admitted to ruining one of the closest friendships I have ever had, and six fucking years too late. I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen! Eddie fucking left because of it! I thought he’d betrayed you!”

“In all fairness, I told him to tell you, begged him even. I figured he had, until I got out. I had no idea he’d kept that part from you. I told you that.” He argues. 

It’s too much at once, you can feel your skin burning. “Get out, Chris. Please.”

He doesn’t argue, rising from your bed and walking to the door before turning. “I can take the heat, I’ve been getting it from you my whole life, but the kid did nothing wrong. It was stupid of him to run instead of telling you, but he didn’t screw me like you’d thought for so long. Don’t hold that grudge, Bee, it’s not worth it.” Before you can respond, Chris closes the door behind him, leaving you to be swallowed by the dark of your room.

[monstrousvoice]

A Chance

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Relationship: Toshinori Yagi/All Might X Female Reader

AN: With my love of BNHA coming back, so too does my undying love for Toshi rise from the depths to inconvenience everyone who tries to have a conversation with me lasting longer than 5 minutes. This drabble was inspired by the following mood board as part of a challenge prompt in the discord server I’m in!

Tags: Fluff, Knight!Toshinori, References to past sexy times but nothing explicit

Summary: You are given the chance to pursue your own happiness with the one you love.

Read it on AO3!

“It really is unconventional my dear.” Your mother clucked her tongue at you before blowing on her steaming tea and taking a careful sip. You took a deep breath to keep your composure. It took nearly all your courage just to speak the words you had been sitting on for months at this point, and you had been prepared for a far harsher response. You gently swirled your spoon in your own tea cup, watching as the sugar cube melted away. You hated this blend, but it was Mother’s favorite and you needed any help to get her in a good mood.

Your father says nothing, simply watching you with a stoic expression. His tea cup sits full and untouched.

“I am…aware, of how odd it is-” Mother scoffs at your words.

“If you are so aware, why even entertain the idea? Honestly child.” She rolls her eyes at you. You bite your tongue, and take another deep breath.

“I simply think after all he’s done for us, for me, that he would be a good choice,” Another scoff. “And that he would…” make me happy, you want to say but don’t. Mother didn’t care about things like happiness in marriage. Marriage was a tool in a royal’s arsenal, like anything else.

“Oh yes, everything he’s done for us, and every neighboring kingdom from here to the coast! The man has no loyalty! He would sooner give up the crown to an invader than fight them! He has too many ties to too many people.”

“That isn’t true!” Mother narrows her eyes at your raised voice. You stiffen and look to your lap in a show of submission. “I-I am sorry. I just…”

“It is a foolish idea.” Mother takes another sip of her tea, opening her mouth to further admonish you for your proposal, but your father speaks.

“I disagree.” He rumbles. Mother closes her mouth with a sharp ‘click’. Your father may be content to let her rule the castle, the staff, and you as she sees fit, but every once in a small while he steps in. Those few times are almost enough to convince you he may care for you in some way.

“Father?” You prompt.

“He was born here. He trained here under my own father’s best knights. He has helped our neighbors as his warrior spirit demanded, but never to our detriment. Now that he can no longer fight the same way, why not reward him for his servitude?” Father blinks passively at Mother, the wisdom of many years of leadership in his eyes. Mother looks at him in shock, her own protests sounding weak now that she doesn’t have his support.

“Bu-I-! He is-! Why, he is too old now my lord husband! He-”

“He is as old as I am, and that brings wisdom and experience.”

“Wh-what of heirs!? He could never-with our daughter-!”

“Men older than us both have produced children before. It will be fine.”

Mother looks like she wants to protest further still, but you don’t pay her stuttered words any more mind. You stare at your father, a man you have spent most of your life fearing in some capacity. Fear of failure and disappointment, fear of losing him and leaving your home in disarray with no king to lead them.

Fear of being married off to some horrible man that would decide your fate, who would crush and break you under the weight of unwanted motherhood and wifely duties you would have no choice but to complete. Of one day suffering the quiet shame of having a husband who brings strangers to bed, of being an object meant to look pretty and nothing more.

And within this moment you dare hope that your life will not be as sad and grey. 

Father looks at you and nods his head. You stand, your fingers twitching with the effort to hold back your excitement. Never before have you so badly wanted to hug Father, but you refrain. It would be improper, Mother has always said. You bow low instead to show your gratitude.

“Th-thank you Father. Mother. I must-...I need to step out for a moment, please excuse me.” And with that you rush out the door to the private study and nearly collapse against the stone wall opposite you. The cool, rough texture against your palms and catching the fabric of your gown helps ground you.

This is real.

You can-you can marry the man you love. Bring him into a life of luxury and happiness you’ve wanted to give him for so long-

The click of the door behind you opening and closing echoes in your pounding head. With hazy eyes you look to see Father standing behind you, proud and tall as ever. He is smiling softly at you, a gentleness you didn’t think he possessed. It's an odd but not unpleasant expression to see on his face.

“I…” He starts, lifting a hand into the air and holding it there, fingers pinched. With a sigh he drops his hand back to his side, looking to the floor.

“With age comes wisdom.” He begins. “I regret many things when it comes to how you were raised.” You blink in shock at his words. You can see in his face…a quiet longing you hadn’t noticed before. It makes something in your heart squeeze.

“I wish…I wish I had been…” He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks to you. “I had you trained and molded to take charge of the kingdom after my passing, consort or no. I made sure you knew every battle tactic, every political game, every form of self defense I could cram into you to make sure you could be safe. I just wish I could have taken the time to…let you be you. To be my daughter, not just my heir. I wish I could have gotten to know you.”

The back of your eyes burn. You swallow and blink. You cannot show such clear emotion, not to anyone.

Well…to one person and one person only. 

That person is not Father.

“I married your mother because of the things she could teach you, the benefits she brought to our home.” Father steps closer to you. His arms lift, as if to reach for you. He freezes, hands shaking before he forces them down to his sides again. “I wish to give you a chance to be happy. If only in some small way. A way I never got to experience. Go to him, and you will be happy with him, I’m sure.”

Father has taken time out of his day to meet with you, to hear your proposal. He agreed to your proposal and gave you his blessing for the man you chose. He is standing before you and restraining himself from giving you a hug.

You take the final step to close the distance between you both, and your stiff arms wrap around his even stiffer form. You feel his hands slowly and carefully come to your back and rest there.

It is awkward and stiff and slightly uncomfortable.

It is the first hug you’ve ever received from Father.

You will cherish its memory for the rest of your life. He has made you happier on this day than you have ever felt.

Well, perhaps not happier than the day you met your fearsome and brave knight. It is close, however.

“Thank you Father. If it is acceptable, I wish to go see him.” Father’s arms drop from you as you step back, and he nods his head. You turn and rush down the hall.

~~~~~~~

You ignore the whispers that trail after you as you hunt through the castle hallways.

“Ah, her royal highness the cold fish. Wonder what has her in such a hurry.”

“Her highness is moving rather fast, do you think something’s happened? She’s normally so stoic and cold.”

“Just like her father, that one. Unfeeling and scary.”

Their words sting, but you hold your head high. You had thought you had been getting better at interacting with the staff, but apparently not if they still gossip in such ways about you. Your knight had been trying to help you be more approachable and open to others, considering he shined with charm and charisma like a beacon, but apparently you needed more work. 

It didn't matter right now, in any case. You have more important news to share with him. 

A tall figure, a flash of blonde, catches your eye down the corridor. You race after it and round the corner to see your knight and his young charge walking away. 

“Toshinori!” You call, and the two figures freeze, turning to look back at you. You rush closer, breathless and excited. Neither of them are in their full set of armor, only wearing the thickly padded tunic that has your kingdom's blazon proudly on display. You take a moment to admire the way your knight’s cloak drapes over his broad shoulders. 

He may not be as strong as he was when younger, but that thin, tall frame holds strength and resilience you can't help but love.

“G-good morning to you both. I apologize for the interruption-” You start, nodding at Izuku who stares up at you with shining eyes. Toshinori straightens up, his smile professional and calm as he addresses you. 

“No trouble at all, your highness.” He bows low to you, and for a moment his hand twitches as if to reach for you, but he forces it still. Izuku jolts as if shocked, quickly blowing low as well with a muttered ‘good morning’ of his own. He's still learning proper protocol, Toshinori had told you. The boy shows great promise as a knight and you know Toshinori is more proud of this boy than he is about any other accomplishment he has in his long career. 

“If I may, Ser Knight, I would like to speak to you about something…” Your eyes dart to the boy at his side. “Urgent.” Toshinori catches on, his eyebrows raising in surprise and slight concern before he turns to his student.

“Young Midoriya, make your way to the stables and complete your usual duties. I will find you later.” Toshinori smiles at the boy with a tenderness that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. The urge to kiss the laugh lines on his cheeks is nearly overwhelming, and you barely stop yourself from doing so. You need to talk to him first. 

Izuku hurries down the hallway with an eager stride, no doubt wanting to impress his teacher when they meet back up. With your own barely restrained enthusiasm you grab Toshinori's hand in your own and drag him to the closest private spot you know of. He stumbles for a moment as you pull him, letting out a choked noise of surprise. You can feel calluses from years of hard labor under the pads of your fingers, rough skin and scars that make your heart flutter with excitement. You've had those hands on you so many times, and now you know for certain you can feel them again for the rest of your life. 

If he wants such a thing, that is. 

“Y-your highness-! What is-” You ignore his questions, making a beeline for the nearest hidden alcove you can think of. It's a hidden spot right outside the entrance to the gardens, one you and Toshinori are very familiar with. Memories of his fingers, long and thick as they brought you to completion over and over while pressed against his chest flash through your mind as you pull him closer. It seems the same thoughts are on his mind as well, judging by the growing pink blush spreading over the bridge of his nose.

The sunlight bleeds through the leaves of the many trees planted, flowering blooms bright and colorful as fat bees buzz to and fro across them to collect nectar. A slight breeze picks up and you watch, mesmerized, as the golden hair of your knight seems to shine as it’s ruffled.

To think, you’ll be able to see him like this everyday for the rest of your life…if he accepts that is.

His voice startles you despite it being a whisper.

“My love, what is wrong? Did something happen…?” Despite the concern you see in his eyes, his mouth pulls up in a shy smile. “Or were you looking to…” One of his hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone in such a tender way it makes your very soul ache. Your eyes flutter shut as you turn into his palm, pressing a kiss against the rough skin. His blush deepens.

“I am flattered darling but is this really what you would consider ‘urgent’? You had me worried for a moment!” He chuckles, a deep soothing sound that sends shivers down your spine. You squeeze your thighs closed at the sudden rush of heat you feel at the sound. You manage to find your voice and speak.

“N-not entirely, beloved…” Your voice comes out as soft as his, a whisper to be carried away on the wind. Toshinori pulls you closer, his free arm wrapping around your waist to settle on the small of your back, his long fingers spreading to grip the meat of your ass. You squeak at the feeling, your hips pushing closer to his where you can feel his cock hardening under his tunic. He hums in interest at your words as he buries his nose into your hair.

“I was speaking with-...with Mother and Father today-” You feel him stiffen against you, and not because of arousal. He pulls back to look you in the eye, but his arms stay wrapped snugly around you. Toshinori’s brow is furrowed with concern as he looks at you.

“Are you alright? I know talks with Her Majesty can be…difficult for you. Is that why you came to me?” His eyes widened in panic. “A-and here I am trying to-! I am sorry love, you must be upset and I’m just-” You can feel his arms loosening from where they hold you tight, pulling away to give you space you most definitely did not want at the moment. You grip his wrists, tugging his hands back into their rightful place on you.

“No! No, I’m not upset please! Please-” You nuzzle into the hollow of his throat, “please hold me. I want to be held.” Your lips brush against his skin as you whisper and you hear him choke. Those strong arms wrap around you once more.

“Ah, a-as you wish…” Toshinori’s voice comes out breathless, and you feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“It was a good talk. I was…” You pause, trying to think of the best way to phrase your question. “I was granted permission to…to court whomever I wish…”

You feel him suck in a sharp breath, his shoulders tensing under where your hands grip him to hold him close. You can hear the sound of his heartbeat where your head rests against his chest, and you know under your cheek is the very spot where his scar resides. You want to spend eternity like this, just being held by your knight like you’re something precious for once.

“...Truly? That's-that's fantastic my love…” You hear Toshinori gulp above you, his arms tightening their hold even further. 

“I think so too. I wanted to ask…” You pause and breathe deeply, grounding yourself. He wouldn't say no, there was no reason to say no. “I wanted to ask if you would consider…allowing me to court you, Ser Knight? And to one day be my King Consort.” You press a kiss to his cloth covered chest, right above his heart.

“My love…” You feel his hand, rough with callouses, cup your jaw and angle your head up to look at him. Piercing blue eyes that glow with resilience and determination stare into your own. “There is nothing I would love more, than to be by your side.”

And he seals this promise with a kiss.

[febuwhump]

Honestly making it a ‘vote as many times as you want’ approach took away the joy for me. I wanted to see actual voting not spamming whatever a few people with time to kill wanted. Feels like it’s expanding beyond people who would actually participate. It’s making me want to do this event less. I don’t want to feel like I have to spend hours spamming the options I like in order to give them a shot. Voting once would have made more sense. Or parring the list down and running tumblr polls to cull the list. This just feels immature.

i totally get how you feel and your feelings are totally deserved! this is how i see it:

the poll has always been vote as many times as you want. i've never installed a limit, and historically people have voted more than once. that is how we had the actual, original voter fraud last year, where one vote per person was implied until one user started spam-voting waterboarding in order to get it in. this was funny. it is no surprise that everyone wants to try it this year.

every year we try new things and do different stuff. i don't think the prompt list that comes out of this will be any worse off for people campaigning and trying to get their prompt in; i don't think the community will be either. the members of the community who are invested and deeply involved are the ones spamming for their favourites; the people who aren't are not necessarily not going to do the event. they were always going to see the prompt list and decide based on that - and the prompt list will still be good because the top 100 prompts are all good and i will curate the winners.

the actual voting is never revealed, so at no point historically either was it evident how people voted other than for the top 30. that is done for a reason: i reserve the right to look at the winners and go, no that's got too many repetitive prompts and a few are going to get switched out. this year, people are calling this deserved tyranny. because it's funny.

and your other options aren't bad at all; they just require more work from me, the person with the full time job and multiple hobbies and the likelihood to get burned out on this event too early by doing too much who is the only admin. a single poll and then answering questions is the most viable option for me - if you want to see an event run that way, then you're more than welcome to pick a month and go for it!

i get that it feels immature, but i think that you might be mislabelling people's sincere enjoyment. i don't think there's any harm in people who really want something voting for the prompts they want more than once; just like i don't think there's anything stopping anyone at all from finding out that their prompt isn't on the final list and then writing it anyway

finally, and this might sound harsh but i say it with all the love in the world: you don't have to take part. if you aren't enjoying the way its being run this year, then you don't have to! or you can blacklist the propaganda tag and febuwhump in its entirety until january 1st when the prompt list comes out and then see if its something you want to take part in! not everyone wants to do every part of the event and that's fine!

i'm sorry that you're not having as much fun this year, but i honestly think this method has engaged the community far more than the only-vote-once route did previously, and my goal is to try lots of different things to get the biggest and best turnout. if, in the end, we get less works than we did last year, or less people actually taking part, then i'll reevaulate

and also. what's so wrong with being immature anyway?

[4ranghaes]

The present wrapping for Woonhak please! Girl could you imagine that? Him getting frustrated from not getting it right AKSJKSAKJS

-🎬

day 10 ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ gift wrapping!

kim woonhak x reader [fluff, fem!reader]

14:22 - you gasped, “woonhak, what is this?!”

“what? you said we were doing wrapping today.”

you blinked at the the two cardboard boxes filled with presents, motioning to your one plastic bag. you took off your coat, starting to look through them.

“why are so many of them out the boxes?!”

“i had to test them,” he shrugged, “why?!”

“no, no, it’s fine,” you chuckled, unwrapping your first tube of wrapping paper that you planned to use for your mum. you looked at your boyfriend who was inspecting the other rolls, “you haven’t bought wrapping paper, have you?”

his lips fell into a pout, looking at you sheepishly as he laughed, “was i supposed to?”

you just shook your head, suppressing a smile and handing him your least favourite. “just do what you can, and then i’ll show you where you’re going wrong. although - you know unwrapping them made it harder for yourself, right?”

“good job i haven’t unwrapped yours then,” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek before laying his first present on the table: a bottle of cologne for jaehyun.

you scoffed, laying out your first present too, on some pulled out wrapping paper, “what? mine aren’t worth testing you?”

woonhak eyed your method curiously, subtly trying to change what he was doing to make it more like your process. “hmm? no! i just didn’t want to ruin anything. plus, i’m confident. i know what you like, baby girl.”

you scoffed at the nickname, folding over the paper tightly. you paused, resting your finger on the wrapping and staring at the sellotape.

“woonhak, my darling, could you rip me off a piece of tape?” you asked, batting your eyelashes and putting on your nicest voice.

“of course!” he grinned, a task he finally knew how to do! he ripped off a small piece of tape, sticking it on the fold.

“thank you, my love,” you hummed, finishing off your package (with tape lovingly handed from woonhak) before looking through your bag for your next gift to wrap.

your boyfriend was still stuck on his first. paper haphazardly pulled over the bottle, tape anywhere and everywhere, everything seemed to be seemingly too much and not enough. you looked over questioningly.

“ah, i can’t do it!” he yelled, wriggling in a tantrum, his flailing body falling onto the floor, “that’s it. everyone’s getting unwrapped presents this year.”

“woonhak,” you smiled, laughing at his predictable behaviour. your boyfriend didn’t respond, pouting on the floor as he continued to fake cry, “my baby. shall i wrap your presents?”

“no i don’t want to be a burden!” he whined, pulling his beanie over his eyes.

“you’re not!” you laughed, pulling his body up and his beanie back to reveal his eyes. they closed tightly shut as you did so. “seriously, woonie! you can help!”

“how?” he mumbled.

“with the tape!”

he sighed, looking at you finally, “i’m quite good at that, right?”

you grinned, “the best.”

he nodded, confidence back as he sat up properly again, giving you the cologne bottle, “okay. thank you, baby.”

you smiled, woonhak’s body falling into yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “that’s okay. ooh! you can write the tags too! write all of yours so we can keep track of them–”

[fkinkindagauche]

All I Ever Wanted Help With Was You

Finally time to post my fic for @steddieexchange! It's for Dorian (Sal3m_hfc on AO3). Hope you enjoy!

Also using this for a @steddiebingo 2025 Round One prompt, Vampire AU.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 8,651 | Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, Virgin Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, First Time, Blood Drinking, Size Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Jason Carver Being an Asshole

Summary: Steve agrees to help Eddie out by pretending to be his human companion for a vampire gathering.

Read the whole thing on AO3.

“Steve. Stevie. My dearest friend. I need your help,” Eddie pleads, slumping onto the couch next to Steve. 

They’re at Robin’s place getting ready to watch a movie. Eddie is, as usual, all up in Steve’s space. Steve refuses to shift away from him. He won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing he makes Steve uncomfortable. 

“With what, Eddie?” Steve sighs, wondering what the hell Eddie’s gotten himself into this time. 

“There’s this thing happening the weekend before Christmas,” Eddie says. “A vampire thing, with the coven I’m trying to join. It’s some sort of Midwinter festival, a weekend of, like, sensual partying I guess? At this estate up in Michigan.”

“How could I possibly help you with that?” Steve asks, puzzled.

“Well, see. I got invited by this vampire I met last week, Chrissy,” Eddie explains, putting his hand on Steve’s thigh. That’s fine. Steve can be normal about this. “She’s kind of a higher-up in the coven leadership. But I don’t wanna go alone, because the invitation specifically gives me a plus one, for a human or vampiric companion. And I don’t wanna be that one guy who shows up companionless.”

“A companion… is that, like, a date?” Steve is even more perplexed.

“Typically it does connote a sexual relationship,” Eddie concedes, “unless the vampire is asexual. Which I am most certainly not.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Steve is well aware that Eddie’s not asexual. Eddie tells all of them, at length, about the fantastic sex he has with the people he feeds from. He says that vampire bites are an aphrodisiac, and his willing victims can’t help but jump his bones afterwards.

“You want me to… find you a companion? I’m not a pimp, Eddie,” Steve grumbles. 

“No!” Eddie yells. “I want you to pretend to be my companion. You’ve got the whole pretty rich boy thing going. It would look good, showing them I could net someone like you.” 

Steve blushes, unable to hold back his reaction to the backhanded praise from Eddie. He fixates on the word “pretend” to make sure he doesn’t get his hopes up. “I have to work,” Steve protests. 

Eddie groans. “Don’t you get, like, vacation time? Isn’t that a human thing?”

“You were a human one year ago,” Steve points out. Eddie has a tendency to talk like he’s a decades-old vampire who’s seen things, and Steve always likes to bring him down a notch.

Eddie waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve forgotten many of the human traditions since then.”

Steve snorts. “If you can get Keith to give me the time off, I’ll come with you.” He doesn’t think that’s even remotely possible. Keith hates Steve, and loves to make him work on weekends, so he figures it’s a good way to say no without having to actually say no.

Eddie nods. “Challenge accepted,” he says, squeezing Steve’s thigh and getting up to go help Robin with the popcorn. If Steve has to adjust himself following Eddie’s hand’s proximity to his upper thigh after that, no one needs to know.

Eddie somehow convinces Keith to give Steve the time off. Steve suspects drugs were involved, but Eddie claims he’s just that persuasive. Steve, who had been sure there was no way he’d get a whole weekend off at the last minute, has backed himself into a corner.

“But… what are we even going to do the whole weekend?” Steve whines after Eddie tells him the news. 

“There’s going to be activities,” Eddie says vaguely.

“What kind? Vampiric mini golf?” Steve quips, hands on hips.

“I’m not actually sure,” Eddie mutters, looking thoughtful.

“You’re taking me to a vampire convention and you don’t even know what’s going to happen there?” 

“Aww, don’t be scared, Stevie,” Eddie teases. “I’ll protect you from all the vampires.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a fledgling.”

Eddie raises a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me. I’ll have you know I’m an extremely precocious vampire. Wise and powerful beyond my years.”

Steve snorts. Robin walks back in from the bathroom, sitting on the couch next to Steve. “Eddie’s making me go to the vampire thing to be his little bitch,” Steve announces. 

Robin laughs. “Did you have to give Keith a blowjob to make that happen, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Eddie replies. “It was so good he offered to give Steve paid leave for the rest of his life, but I told him no need, I just need Steve for the weekend.”

“You do have a really big mouth,” Steve says, very pleased he’s actually able to get a blush out of Eddie. It’s rare, usually Eddie’s the one making Steve blush, but every once in a while Steve gets him.

“You guys are gross.” Robin cringes, sticking her tongue out at them. 

“Pretty sure you got us onto this particular topic, Birdie,” Eddie interjects. 

Robin ignores him. “Are you sure it’s going to be safe? For Steve?”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve grumbles. 

“Everyone’s allowed to bring a human companion, safety guaranteed by the coven,” Eddie assures. 

Steve sighs and slumps down on the couch. There’s probably no way out of this. And it will be nice to have a weekend away from Keith.

“Alright. Do I have to bring, like, fancy clothes?” Steve asks. He can’t imagine Eddie ever wearing anything other than jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket, but he’s trying to lean into the vampirism thing a little more these days. 

“The invitation said there’s going to be a ball, which is black tie.”

“Eddie, do you even know what black tie means?” Steve asks. 

“Well, I assume, Steven, that it means I need a black tie,” Eddie snarks.

Steve sighs and drops his head into his hands. “We’re gonna need to go shopping.”

Read the whole thing on AO3.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.

[duusheen]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

I was tagged by the cutest @bunnithechubs thank you sm!!

I'm tagging: @aliengirl @simvanie @aurorangen @fallstaticexit @oasivy aaaaand @mdshh! (feel free to ignore <3)

I love the lighting in these two! they feel super pretty and romantic. So they definitely had to be here <3

Just... these two 😌💕 and the light <3

Danny vs Sterling!! I remember getting comments about how you guys didn’t trust Sterling and look at him now! 😭 He’s even a better person than Hope 😌💕

Hope thinking she had a chance against that face. She wishes

By far MY FAVORITE SCREENSHOT of all 2024. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to create a more perfect scene lmao the sexy bikini, the hot and wet man, her face 😂 just perfection

Hope holding Pandora the day she was born. So beautiful...

This man being a father for the first time, ugh I can’t with this. The best dad in the world, Sterling Atcliffe 😌

Dora leaving with Danny!! 😭😭😭 This was definitely the turning point in Hope’s life

Phoenix!! 🥺💖

I definitely don’t do many lookbooks, but these are my favorites

Noah and the reason Hope and Sterling’s wedding was called off 😬 loved the drama here hehe

Phoenix and Dora dynamic 🤣

Sterling aging like fine wine, obviously

This one because she’s the first heir to die before the generation is finished 😐

I loved editing this! it’s not my usual style but I was inspired that day lol

New haircut and the tattoo she’ll probably regret for the rest of her life lmfao

This little scene with Leif and Hope in the "afterlife"! Life & Death is my favorite pack of the year, and I loved making this 😭

These two living happily ever after 😞 my feels

The kiss after reuniting once again 😭 Their story was supposed to end with Hope’s death, but the rebirth thing was totally random and turned out so incredibly well that it ended up being my favorite generation of all!

*sigh* 💕

Finally the siblings heading to Mt. Komorebi so Pandora can chase after her high school love 😤

This was a nostalgic trip for me so thank you Bun <3!!

[spashahoney]

Well-deserved shuteye for our fearless, gentle leader of the Autobots. Please make sure he gets his rest, heroes!

-

My piece for the To Be Gentle: an Optimus Prime Fanzine by @allsparkzines can now be viewed! Totally check out the fresh and funky zine about the hero of Cybertron! I had a whole lot of fun making it!

[azure-clockwork]

I love three houses discourse because I'm pretty sure everyone just picks their route based on which house leader they're the most gay for and then tries to defend their pick by pointing out the other sides's war crimes via twitter memes. Reader, all four of them do substantial quantities of war crimes. So many. We're just here because the woman with Issues and a big fuck-off axe said so, and then we gotta justify everything she did in the name of dismantling the class system. I mean, I'm here for that, but you could also try justifying Charm Man uses poison and perfidy to try to stop racism, A Sad Little Meow Meow gives no quarter instead of doing therapy, or the Thicc Pope tries to bring back her mom via human experimentation, depending on your tastes

[alvindraperzzz]

I get kind of annoyed when people say how much they miss YJ Cassie  and want DC to make her the way she was then, only to turn around and say how much they hate modern Cassie or how out of character they think she is. It doesn’t make sense. Since 2019, Cassie has been written more like she was in YJ than she has in a long time. This is a Cassie who isn’t weighed down by all the grief and trauma she went through in comics Graduation Day forward. She’s proactive and impulsive. She’s goofy and stubborn, acts like Diana and Donna’s little sister, and fangirls over superheroes. If something’s wrong then she’s going to interfere no matter who says she shouldn’t. She’s the closest DC is ever gonna get to bringing YJ Cassie back. If you don’t like her then maybe you should reassess whether you actually like the character, or if you only like the personality fandom assigned her based on a haircut she had twenty five years ago.

[sad-endings-suck]

and if I said that lots of mizu/akemi shippers are actually mizu/fem self-insert and mizu/fem oc shippers then what?