#this isn't self deprication it's facts
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"He'd had a bad day and just needed something to make him feel better."
(for the five sentence prompt thingy for belleview)
from this ask game
“He had a bad night,” one of the volunteer nurses is telling Lincoln, “and he just needed something to make him feel a little better.”
Lincoln stands with the volunteer outside the door to River’s room. The muscles in his jaw ache from how hard he bites down, but he’s careful to keep his temper in check.
“Come on, Doc,” the volunteer is saying. River’s hands cover his face, and his body, now absent the typical barely-contained aggression, shakes with every deep, even breath he draws. He finally sleeps, over forty-eight hours after Lincoln took over this site, but it’s at a cost.
Lincoln rolls his shoulders to forcibly release some of the tension he’s holding as the nurse reviews the overnight attending’s orders. This is already done, Lincoln reminds himself. And there’s a part of him, a part of him that he’s learning to despise, that thinks maybe the attending made the right call.
#5 sentence fics#belleview#lincoln#river#noncon drugging#it is worth noting that i find these 5 sentence fics to be EXTREMELY difficult#even though im using '5' loosely#it's dang hard to make any kind of point in such a short little diddy#lets be real i can barely make a point with 2k words#and here I am absolutely GRASPING at plot to drag into these little paragraphs#ANYHOO.#this isn't self deprication it's facts#dont come for me#and ONE more thing#if i have to rework these into a full thing later im not above that#these are not wasted potential they can and will live as full fledged plot points one day maybe
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My mutuals are so cool. You'd all probably think I'm insufferable irl though
#/lh#this isn't a self deprication thing i prommy#its more referring to the fact that a group of my friends just had to listen to me ramble about film theory for an hour#im a film and history major and if given the chance i will never shut the fuck up about either
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While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.
Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.
If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.
This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.
As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:
"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."
"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."
"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."
"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."
"I must have been wrong."
This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:
"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"
"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."
"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"
Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.
You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.
The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:
Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.
A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.
Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.
Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.
The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:
Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.
Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.
Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.
Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.
Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)
Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)
I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.
I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".
('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)
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Please a blues lagoon number 21: “This isn't what it looks like." For Jack Hughes. #gimmesomeangst
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
21. "This isn't what it looks like."
.
“This isn’t what it looks like!”
You shot the boy a look, a mix of anger and something stronger than hurt bubbling inside of you as you stood at the bottom of the bed. You weren’t even sure if the tears welling in your eyes were from frustration or rage.
“Really?” You let out a humourless laugh. “Then, pray tell me, Jack, what the fuck is this if it’s not what it looks like?”
He winced, shifting in his spot on the bed. “Baby—”
“Do not ‘baby’ me,” you gritted out through clenched teeth. “Do not fucking patronise me right now.”
“I didn’t mean to,” his voice barely louder than a whisper, the guilt clearly etched over his face. “Everything just happened so fast and you were away and—”
“And so I have to find out from a fucking Twitter update that my boyfriend was having surgery?” You interrupted, your arms crossed over your chest in hopes it would hide the way your body was shaking.
It was a well-known fact amongst you, Jack and the Devils medical team that his injury needed more than rest and physio to recover fully, for him to play at the same level he did before his injury. But there had been procedures in place and you were under the impression that further procedures wouldn’t happen until the regular season ended and the Devils were officially out of playoff contention, knowing your boyfriend was far too stubborn and iron-willed to step away from the team until they no longer stood a chance.
You just hadn’t expected the surgery would take place on the weekend you were away visiting a friend a few states over.
And you certainly didn’t expect your boyfriend to hide such a huge surgery from you.
Now, here you were, after grabbing the first flight out to Colorado, to find your boyfriend lying in a hospital bed, recovering from said surgery. And you were pissed and scared and angry and concerned. But most of all, you were just relieved that he was okay.
“M’sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice soft and sheepish. “I was gonna tell you but—” He paused before letting out a sigh. “You had been looking forward to this trip with your friend for so long! And you were so excited! I didn’t wanna ruin that.”
Your expression immediately softened. “Jack.”
“Already fucked up the team’s chances of playoffs, couldn’t disappoint you too,” he added with a self-depricating smile. You knew he had been kicking himself over the timing of everything, you just hadn’t realised how deep that blame had rooted itself in the boy.
“Baby, you didn’t disappoint anyone,” you stated, sure and confident in your words because you knew that’s what he needed. You rounded the bed, gently perching yourself on the edge of the bed before reaching for his good hand. “Not me. Not the team. Not the fans. I promise.”
He gave you a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the surgery.” There was a small pause as he squeezed your hand before he spoke. “I wanted you here. So fucking bad. Luke still has to play and so does Quinn. Mum and Dad can’t make it out until tomorrow and—”
“I’m here now,” you reassured him, lifting his hand so you could press a lingering kiss to the back of his hand. “And I’m not gonna go anywhere. Promise. Gonna be here every step of the way.”
Something quite like relief shone in his eyes. “I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you smiled back at him. “Even if you’re a stubborn bastard.”
.
#cece's cocktail celebration#jack hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes fic#jack hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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The Boyfriend Experience - EM
Author's Note: This is very personal to me. I wrote this about my experieces and facts about myself. Which I know isn't very reader insert friendly but as my friend @boomhauer had said, for all I know, I'm not alone in this. This will be a mini series. Idk how many parts it will have but I wanted to do more than one.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x virgin!reader
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of weight, mentions of being overweight, body image issues, body dysphoria, self deprication, sexual experiences, lack of sexual experience, teasing, angst.
You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my work onto other sites or social medias. This work is my own and it is owned by me.
Having a large friend group was nice. Nice enough, at least for you. Between the Hellfire boys and the party you were fortunate enough to have many friends. You were close to the party the most over the shared trauma of the upside down and things that go bump in the night. It was easy to be open with them so some topics of conversation didn’t bother you… until certain comments were made. You had never intended to let the information about yourself shift the dynamic of your friendships. At this point in your life, you had reluctantly accepted a fact about yourself when it came to romantic relationships and activities. However, your friend groups learning that you were a virgin even now past graduating high school seemed to change everything. It wasn’t like you wanted to seek out the first willing male participant and ‘get it over with’ as some past friends had told you to do before. You didn’t want that for yourself. It didn’t feel right for you.
The unfortunate thing about it was that no one was into you. That was something you had concluded on your own in your own time. It was either the pudge of your stomach and the squishiness of other parts of your body or simply your personality. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was all of it. You had spent many a time pinching, poking and prodding at your body in the mirror as tears silently slid down your cheeks. Most of the time you avoided reflective surfaces all together as it shattered the illusion of what you thought and wished you looked like. One look in a reflection made your confidence dwindle down to nothing like something small being dropped off of a skyscraper just to shatter on impact at the pavement below. So you wore baggy clothes. Hiding your figure was better than being gawked at for trying to wear clothes other girls, skinnier girls, pulled off effortlessly. The hammer that hit the nail on the head was when you noticed some things. Was it other people’s fault? No, it wasn’t. But when you went out with friends who were deemed more attractive than you and people approached them to talk to them while you stood there, drink in hand. It was hard not to notice. The icing on the cake had been the one time you were left standing at the bar, all your friends off talking to someone in the bar that had approached them while you played with the condensation that dripped down onto the bartop.
You lacked social experiences. You had never been on a date before, never had a boyfriend either. You had a first kiss at least though it had been a long time ago. How your friends didn’t know this, you had no idea. A rousing game of truth or dare brought this information to light for everyone. The kids weren’t invited as it was an adults only party Steve had decided to throw. The Hellfire boys, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Jonathan and Argyle as well as yourself all sat in a circle with your respective drinks in hand. It had been your turn, so you chose truth, wanting a break for a moment as the dares got more daring as time went on and more alcohol was consumed. Drinking the ‘mega condiment’ as Argyle named it–a mixture of literally every condiment housed in the Harrington fridge–was not on your list of things to drink that night. Especially after seeing Robin gag after taking a sip of it.
The Harrington house was big enough to house all of you. Not to mention a supplemental bar for when you all ran out of what you brought with yourselves. These ‘adults only’ parties tended to last all night with drinks, food and usually crashing there. At times it was movies or more importantly drinking games that were played at these events. Tonight the stack of playing cards had been retired early in favor of Truth or Dare. Jeff hummed as he thought over what he could ask you. His eyes lit up as he figured out his question. “Who did you lose your virginity to?” He asked you with a grin. It wasn’t uncommon for these question to get more personal and daring the more you all drank. So you weren’t necessarily surprised at the topic but the fact that it had been aimed at you, one of the only single people in attendance. Normally, these embarrassing personal questions were aimed at the couples.
You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment. As everyone waited for their answer, you simply looked away from Jeff and took a swig from your drink to avoid answering. That was one rule that had been put in place. You could opt out by drinking your drink. No questions asked. Or at least, no requirement to answer.
“Must be embarrassed about who it is.” Gareth chuckled with a small shrug as he drained the last of his beer.
“Or she didn’t lose it at all.” Jeff playfully jokes, but something on your face must have given it away as Jeff’s eyes widened in realization. “You haven’t lost it?!” He gasped.
“How? You’re like… in your twenties.”
“I just haven’t. Alright?” You practically snapped at Gareth and Jeff.
“Well, have you come close? Like on a date getting hot and heavy with someone?” Steve asked, leaning over to hand Gareth another beer after popping the bottle cap off with his bare hand.
“No… I’ve never been on a date so,” You mumbled into your cup as you took another drink.
“You’ve never been on a date?!” Nancy asked, shock written on her face. “I thought Ethan when we were soph-”
“Yeah. He stood me up and made jokes about it for a week after.” You cut Nancy off with a tight smile. “I’m not girlfriend material, apparently. Now if you’ll excuse me.” You pushed yourself off of the floor and headed for Steve’s kitchen to make yourself another drink. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment and you could feel tears threatening to breach the barrier of your lower lashes. At times, you could brave the embarrassment of being a virgin at your age. However now again you found yourself longing for something you had not had the privilege of having. Yearning for a connection to someone who likes you for who you are, not necessarily what you look like. When those feelings hit you, it was hard not to be hurt at the realization that you might never have these experiences. You could hear laughter in the other room, the immediate assumption in your fragile state that it was about you. Your lower lip wobbled as you opened the container of cranberry juice, pouring a full glass of it knowing adding more alcohol would make it harder to compose yourself now and you’d like to leave with a shred of your dignity left intact.
“Enough.” You heard Eddie’s voice snap, presumably at the Hellfire boys as he usually reigned them in. You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks quickly before going to grab the hoodie you had abandoned on the back of a kitchen chair earlier. You needed the comfort, shielding your body away before you trudged back into the room of your friends with your mask back on firmly in place.
Since then, things have been different. Your lack of experiences, lack of romance and lack of self confidence were sore spots for you. Some told you you simply weren’t trying hard enough. As if it were that easy to just make people like you. Or want you for more than just what was between your thighs or under your shirt. As if anyone would want to see that. Since the night of the party, the group made it a point to keep certain topics of conversation to a minimum or overall stopping the conversation when you joined the group. As if they didn’t think you would notice. It was hard to ignore that the topics of recent date nights ceased the second you were close enough to them all. With hushed ‘later’s, ‘not now’s and ‘I’ll finish telling you later’s being the main indication when you manage to hear them.
“Okay, I’ll bite.” You sighed as you crossed your arms over the counter of Family Video, looking at Steve and Robin expectantly. You had heard their conversation when you walked in there but when you approached the counter Steve had quickly shushed Robin from talking further. “What are you both talking about?” You asked.
“Nothing, nothing.” Robin waved you off with a smile as she rang up the movie you had brought over.
“I was just telling Robin about my date the other night. After we had dinner we started getting hot and heavy in my car, went to Lovers Lake to have-”
“Shh! Steve, innocent ears! We have to keep her purity intact.” Robin shushed him, smacking him in the chest.
Your face fell. “Excuse me?” You asked Robin in a clipped tone, not bothering to hide your anger and annoyance.
The air had shifted as had the mood. Robin’s face fell as she realized that her joke had not been amusing to you but instead upset you. “It’s just that… No, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that!” Robin apologized quickly.
You scoffed, pulling your wallet out and throwing cash onto the counter to cover the movie and a packet of Red Vines. “Thanks.” You mumbled, snatching up the movie and a packet of Red Vines before heading out of the store quickly.
—----------
It was movie night. That was the reason for your trip into Family Video that week. The Hellfire group would have a movie night once every week or so. Everyone brought in a movie and you all would decide which ones to watch. You sat on the couch, always having privileges for the couch per Eddie’s orders since in his words: you are the lady here. You sat beside Eddie, sharing your Red Vines with him while he shared his popcorn with you. Since that day in Family Video you hadn’t seen neither Steve nor Robin, actively avoiding both of them. You had mumbled an acceptance of Robin’s apology when she called but hadn’t wanted to see either of them. It got worse though. Almost all of your friends had made a joke about your lack of experience thus far. If there wasn’t a joke about it there was reassurance that didn’t feel so reassuring. Nancy had tried to reassure you that there was nothing wrong with being a virgin still at your age. Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle seemed to be the only ones smart enough to not make any comments about the subject. Something you praised God for. Now it was the end of the week and you were just ready for everyone to move past this once and for all.
On the screen in front of you was a horror movie. Something you weren’t unfamiliar with. You sighed as you sunk into the couch with Eddie. You watched as two teens snuck away with the intention of having fun with one another and felt your mood sour. You waited for it. Some kind of comment to be passed your way.
“These are always so cheesy and these parts? Boring.” Lucas complained, tossing pieces of popcorn at the screen itself.
“That’s because you’ve never experienced it, Sinclair.” Gareth laughed, nudging the other boy.
“As if he should listen to any advice from you.” Eddie nudged Gareth with his foot.
“I’m full of advice! Good advice!” He argued back with Eddie.
“Suuure you are.” You added, “None of you seem like you’d know what to do anyway. Just fumble and ask where things are.”
“Oh, please!” Freak laughed and grinned at you. “Here’s something we can at least tell you, Y/N.” His tone took on one you would use when speaking to a child, “When a man and a woman love each other, his peepee goes in the hole between your legs. That’s where you put it. In case you didn’t know since you’re still a virgin.”
“Freak, knock it off.” Eddie hissed in his direction.
You didn’t even dignify him with an answer. You stood up, stepping over Gareth and Jeff as you made your way to the door.
“Y/N?” Eddie called, but you didn’t dare look behind you. Instead, you slid your jacket onto your body, picked up your bag and threw open the door to Eddie’s trailer deciding to leave the movie you rented there.
You hopped down onto the porch, the screen door behind you smacking shut loudly as you bounded off the porch and over to your car. You heard the door open back up behind you and Eddie called out your name again. You ignored him, sliding into your car and peeling away from the trailer park like your ass was on fire. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, ignoring the tears sliding down your cheeks. It was one thing to hear jokes that you were still a virgin. It was another thing to have people demean you thinking you were innocent and didn’t know anything because of it. You weren’t a fucking child. You knew probably more than they did about the female body and what to do. Years of hearing your peers talk about it had been informative enough.
As soon as you got to your apartment, you shuffled yourself inside and shut the door tightly behind you. You crumbled. You were embarrassed and upset, wanting to just crawl in a hole and forget this week had ever happened. You pulled yourself up, trudging to the bathroom and taking a hot shower before pulling on panties, sweatpants and a tank top deciding to leave the death trap on the floor of the bathroom. You moved to the living room, seeking out a new movie to put on in the hopes it would distract yourself from the disastrous night. You put on one of your favorites before tucking yourself into your couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket and pillow. You only got through about fifteen minutes of the film before there was a knock on your door. You ignored it, favoring pretending you weren’t home or didn’t exist than face whoever was on the other side of that wooden barrier. The knocking came again, harder and more insistent this time.
“Go away!” You called out to the door. You assumed it was Freak, Gareth and Jeff. No doubt sent there by Eddie to apologize for upsetting you. He never let the other guys bother you too much.
“Open up, sweetheart. It’s me.” The man you thought had sent others to your door was actually the one behind it.
“No.” You called back out. You were thankful that Eddie didn’t make fun of you like the others did or comment on it. But you were embarrassed and felt ugly.
“Please? I have something for you.” You sighed. Knowing Eddie he would either camp out in front of your door or more likely pick your lock or climb through your window in your bedroom if you didn’t let him in. You pulled yourself up off the couch and went to the door, unlocking it and opening up the door. His smile was wide and bright when you opened the door. His arms were laden with items and he nudged you with his foot. “May I come in?” He asked you, batting his lashes at you.
You stepped aside, letting the lanky metalhead into your home. Eddie moved inside of your apartment quickly and you watched him like he was some foreign entity in your home. Eddie had been in your apartment before but never alone with you. It was always accompanied by one of your friends. He had just never come here by himself. You wouldn’t have thought so though as he effortlessly placed down the items in his arms. He had a pizza box with him, two shopping bags and a backpack on his back. From the plastic bags he pulled out some beer, candy and movies presumably from his own home. “What’re you doing here, Eddie?” You sighed, shutting your door and moving back to your couch. You burrowed yourself under your blanket again, pillow tucked behind your back. “Where are the guys?”
“Well, you left clearly upset, and I kicked the guys out.” Eddie answered nonchalantly. He stopped his movements of sorting out the treats he brought to look at you. “They shouldn’t have said what they said.” He spoke softly, watching you.
You took a breath. “Thank you… You didn’t have to come here though.” You mumbled, crossing your arms.
“I wanted to.” Eddie waved you off. “Now, I’m gonna go change cause we’re having a sleepover. I have your favorite.” He flipped open the pizza box to reveal your favorite toppings. “I will be back!” He took his backpack into your bedroom. You leaned over, assessing the pizza and snacks he had brought with him for you. You took a slice of pizza and gently began munching on it, trying to fight off the negative thoughts about how this food wasn’t good for you and wouldn’t help your situation but only deepen the purple stretch marks on your stomach and thighs.
When Eddie returned, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a faded Judas Priest t-shirt. He dropped down onto the couch on the opposite side of you and picked up a slice of pizza, taking a huge bite out of the food. He settled down, wiggling your blanket out from under him to get under the fabric and be comfortable with you. You both sat like that for a while, watching the movie you had put on and eating the pizza. Eventually one of the movies Eddie had brought with him was put on. You both fell into a comfortable silence but you knew it would eventually break.
As the second movie played you were about halfway through it when Eddie finally spoke up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked you, turning his head to look at you. You turned your head to meet his eyes and felt your walls crumble. You wanted to say no… but with Eddie’s gaze on you, it was hard to compose yourself. You flashed back to what happened not too long ago and over the week in general. You didn’t realize that more tears began to slide down your cheeks. “I’m just so sick of everyone thinking I’m innocent just because I haven’t fucked someone. I’m not an idiot. I’m not a child. I fucking know things.” You sobbed quietly, hurriedly wiping at your cheeks. “It’s not my fault I’m not the kind of girl anyone wants.” You felt the couch shift as Eddie moved closer, the weight of his arm falling over your shoulders. He moved your legs over his lap, tucking you into his side as you cried. “They act like it was somehow my choice. Like I haven’t wanted to have a boyfriend, have sex, go on dates, be loved by someone. If it were my choice I would’ve done all those things! But no one is interested in me. How is that my fault?” You babbled on, tucking your face against Eddie’s chest and finding comfort in the smell of him.
“First of all, they were wrong to make you seem like you don’t know shit. Second of all, you are absolutely the kind of girl people want. Smart people who have eyes and aren’t selfish assholes. I know if you had the choice, you would’ve done those things. Clearly, since this upsets you so much, babe. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time.” Eddie spoke softly, his thumb rubbing your skin comfortingly as he spoke.
“Sure, Eddie. Whatever you say.” You murmured, feeling drained from the week itself. A silence fell over the two of you as you felt your insecurities swallow your mind. “Maybe if I was skinnier… prettier. Like Nancy, smart too.” You mumbled. You gasped when Eddie suddenly moved back. You looked at him and he had moved back to stare at you. What shocked you was the anger on his face.
“Do not. Say that.” He spoke sternly, watching you. “There is nothing wrong with you. Your body, your mind, nothing.”
“But-”
“No!” Eddie frowned, a crease forming between his brows as he showed his unhappiness at your lack of self-confidence. “No buts! Yours is phenomenal, by the way.” He was moving before you could even process what you just heard, your cheeks warming when you realized. He was pulling at your legs. You made a small sound as he pulled you til you were laying on your couch. You adjusted the pillow that had once been behind your back to be behind your head instead, deciding to humor Eddie. You knew him well enough that he would say what he wanted to say whether you wanted to hear it or not. He was never shy to share his opinion, sometimes unprompted. “Look,” Eddie moved on top of you. He straddled your thighs as his hair fell over your face like a curtain. Without thinking about it you moved his hair back from his face. “Hi, pretty girl.” Eddie grinned at you. You pouted at him, using one hand to tug on his earlobe. He whined and winced, “Ow.” he mumbled softly. Eddie’s hands moved from holding himself up above you instead favoring to rest his body against yours. You grunt softly at the new weight but it wasn’t bothering you.
“Eddie, what are you doing?” You huff and Eddie grins back at you.
“Shh. Hold on. I’m gonna give you the boyfriend experience, okay. Let me show you how pretty you are.” He shushed you, moving his hand up to your face. His middle finger gently ran over your forehead, moving down the bridge of your nose. Your eyebrows were creased in confusion as you took in what he was doing but your breath hitched in your throat as his lips pressed between your eyebrows, smoothing the crease away. His soft touch moved down over the tip of your nose down to your cupid’s bow before moving over your cheekbone. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You were fumbling as you processed the fact that Eddie Munson was kissing your face. His lips followed his finger as he kissed your cheek bone. More kisses followed over your cheek, jaw and chin.
“Ed-”
“Shhh,” He softly shushed you again, middle finger moving over your top lip before running over your lower lip. You waited, holding your breath. That breath escaped you when Eddie pressed his lips to yours. You knew what to do, of course, pressing your lips back to Eddie’s but truly you were sure you were a horrible kisser. His hand now cupped your cheek as his lips moved against yours like he was trying to show you what to do. Soon you melted in his embrace, just enjoying kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped but soft and you made a mental note to share your cherry lip balm with him so he didn’t crack his lips. Eddie’s lips left yours though and you whimpered softly as he moved away. A breathy chuckle left him. “You have to breathe, pumpkin. Okay?” He murmured, nose nudging yours gently. Then he was moving again. He tucked his head into your neck, peppering kisses against your skin. He kissed over your collarbones before kissing the tops of your breasts. “No bra when you’re at home? I should come visit more often.” He mumbled against your skin, running his nose over your cloth covered mounds. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a devilish smile on his lips.
“Gonna come over more often now cause I don’t wear a bra at home?” You scoffed and Eddie nodded against you.
“Mhm, and cause I can see your nipples through your tank top.” He chuckled and moved his hands down to your hips. His hands moved back up, pushing your tank top up. You reached for his hands but he stopped just under your breasts. “Not going further. I didn’t ask permission yet.” He murmured and shuffled down your body. His nose nudged gently at your stomach, admiring the pudginess that was there. He began scattering kisses over your soft flesh. Over stretch marks ranging from soft pink, barely there to fresh purple ones. You squirmed a little under him, cheeks warming in embarrassment and self consciousness. “You’re so cute.” He mumbled against your skin, looking up at you. You pouted, feeling tears tug at your lashes again. “No crying, baby.” He murmured, “Not wanting to make you feel bad. Just wanna admire you.” You sniffled, gently wiping at your eyes as you nodded down at him. You were unsure of Eddie’s plan. Why he was doing this and how far he was going to go but you were going to give him his time, enjoying the limited attention he was affording you.
Eddie waited for you to calm down before he continued. He kissed over your hips, hands moving to pull your sweatpants down slightly. He pulled the material down over your legs, setting them aside and you froze again. He bypassed your panties which made you pout a little but you knew Eddie had a plan. His kisses continue over the tops of your thighs before moving to kiss the sides of them. He lifted one of your legs, lips moving down your calf and over your ankle before he kissed the top of your foot. When he was satisfied that he had covered you in enough kisses he grabbed your sweatpants and pulled the material back over your legs and settled himself on top of you again once you were clothed again. Eddie had laid himself so his head rested at your neck. One arm snaked under your body while his other hand moved to gently run his fingers through your hair.
“You can call me crazy if you want,” Eddie mumbled against your skin. “But what if I gave you the boyfriend experience. Doesn’t have to go anywhere. Just… show you what you’re missing.”
You blinked, thinking over Eddie’s suggestion. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie. You liked him a lot especially once you saw the soft side of the scary looking metal head. You figured you weren’t his type despite the affection he’d shown you tonight. So what was the harm in taking him up on gaining some experience? You hummed softly and stroked your fingers through his hair. “Yeah… I’d like that.” You murmured quietly, feeling the smile that spread over his lips before he pressed a kiss to your throat.
Eventually the two of you moved so you could enjoy the slightly cold pizza Eddie had brought you both. The two of you ate most of it, tucking the rest into the fridge. You yawned gently as you packed up the snacks and Eddie’s hands gently grabbed at your arms to stop you. He steered you towards your room, shutting the tv off on the way. Inside your room you crawled into bed and laid on your side, figuring Eddie would help himself to wherever he wanted to sleep. The bed dipped beside you and Eddie shuffled closer to you. “An important part of the boyfriend experience, cuddling.” He murmured as he pressed himself to your back. He tangled his legs with yours, holding onto you. You could feel that he had shed his shirt before climbing into bed with you. His hand rested on your belly and you resisted the urge to move it. You didn’t even like touching your own belly but someone else touching the area made you want to crawl out of your skin. After a few minutes though you relaxed enough, gently falling asleep in his arms.
—----------------------------------------
The next morning you had woken up still in Eddie’s embrace. He was holding onto you tightly, gentle snores falling from his lips. You picked up his arm, attempting to wiggle free from his hold at first until he tightened his arm around you further. You huffed but smiled, picking up his arm again and getting free. You padded out of your room to the kitchen and started to brew some coffee. You grabbed what you needed to make some simple bacon and eggs for you both, humming as you did so. As you added some cheese into the eggs you heard him before you felt him. He had just managed to step on one of the creaky floor boards. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you and his head found home on your shoulder.
“You left me,” He mumbled against your skin.
“I made breakfast.” You answered, plucking up a piece of bacon and offering it to him.
Eddie lifted his head and bit into the bacon, chewing thoughtfully. “All is forgiven.”
You chuckled and shook your head, finishing the other half of the strip of salty pork before returning to moving the eggs around. Eddie removed himself from you to grab the plates you set aside for you both. He held both as you scooped some eggs onto the plates before placing bacon strips onto them. Eddie took them to the table as you popped toast into the toaster and started to make your cup of coffee. Once all the food was ready you both sat down to eat. You found your eyes wandering to the boy that sat beside you. Eddie’s hair was a frizzy mess from sleeping with it loose last night. His torso and arms were toned and not overly muscular. You figured he lifted a lot of heavy things having heard he worked at a mechanics shop now. Blotches of scars were on his arms and torso from where the demobats had feasted on his flesh but you didn’t find them repulsive. It made Eddie look rugged in a way. Even if his nipple and his chest tattoos had suffered because of it. His rings were absent, most likely sitting on your bedside table now.
“Like what you see?”
You moved your eyes away from Eddie’s chest to look at his face. He smiled at you. A kind, warm smile like you guys had known one another a long time. His big chocolate orbs watched you carefully but as he shifted the sun caught his eyes, turning them amber. You chuckled at the scrunch of his nose and the squint of his eyes as they were invaded by the sun. You stood up, moving to your window and pulling the sheer curtains together. “I like natural light.” You told him, returning to your seat.
Eddie hummed, picking up your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Thank you for breakfast.” He murmured with another bright smile.
“You brought me dinner last night. It’s only fair.” You reason with a small shrug. When you finish your meal you put your plate in the sink and refill your mug before retiring to your couch once again under your blanket. Eddie joins you moments later, slipping under your blanket and shifting closer to you, arm around your shoulders. You turned the TV on, finding something to watch as you sip your coffee. You only look away when a gentle tap comes to your chin and you turn your head, Eddie lips pressing to yours.
“Forgot to properly tell you good morning.” He murmured against your lips.
You feel your face warm, kissing Eddie again. “Good morning,” You murmured.
“Good morning,”
—-------------------------
You and Eddie spent the day together. You watched TV, made lunch and finally talked about what you would both be doing. Eddie offered a no strings attached experience, explaining that he would provide you with the experience of what it was like to have a boyfriend and whatever else you might like at no cost to you besides your time.
“You don’t want anything?” You asked, raising a brow at the boy.
Eddie nodded his head. “Nothing.”
“There has to be something you want to be doing this.”
Eddie hummed and shook his head again. “I’m getting it already.”
“What?”
He smiled at you and reached for your hand. “What I want… is you.” He murmured, “Stupid, I know. Me being an option but I’m happy just… filling the role for you. Til you find what you want.”
That was the thing. You didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted to be loved, yes. Someone who wanted you. Which Eddie claimed he was that person. Someone who wanted you. That was something difficult for you to grasp. Why would someone want somebody as imperfect as you are? You were a burden, an issue. Or simply just the thing in the corner that was easily ignored. You simply nodded at Eddie’s words though and leaned over, pressing your lips to his even if you didn’t believe a word he said.
.
..
...
....
.....
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eeddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson fic#tw weight#tw self deprication#tw body dysphoria
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the thing about mattdrai is leon is humble, but he knows he's good, so he can be cocky when he wants to be. but matthew is not 'humble', he's self depricating, and sometimes, especially on the ice, he uses cockiness as a defense against his own insecurities. and yeah, leon gets annoyed by that because, before he gets to know matthew, he thinks it's fucking annoying that he's so cocky.
in reality, matthew is over there, all false bravato, just praying that no one else notices that he doesn't belong, that he has never been good enough to be where he is. when he gets glimpses into matthew's imposter syndrome it's fucking eye opening. like matthew giving himself the 85 rating is not a silly little joke he genuinely fucking believes that's his nhl24 rating. and like i can imagine leon making that little joke "oh, i dunno probably 85, eh?" with a cheeky little grin. but that's not matthew. like sure! you can totally read it as him being humble but it's NOT it's him REALLY TRULY believing it. it's him playing a stanley cup game in a run he practically won for his team with a broken sternum bc he still had to prove himself (????) and the thing is like why else do you play a stanley cup game when you couldn't even get yourself dressed in the morning??? like he saw that as letting his team down and that's fucking DEVASTATING. and no one around him thought "oh! maybe just this once we should tell him 'matthew, you don't need to prove anything. you did fucking amazing. you got your team here, but you need to heal now though. you need to lay your ass back down and fucking HEAL because YOU are more important to us than a fucking TROPHY." AND YES i know he'd worked his LIFE for that moment but one has to wonder what that does to someone. to constantly chase that glory and to never feel good enough until then?? and THEN even when you reach the peak, you will feel like you still were not good enough, you didn't deserve it, you never will. and there is NOTHING you can do to fill the emptiness. not even the one thing you thought you needed most in the world. because. fuck. the thing you needed most is actually someone to give a shit. about YOU. not your perceived value on a team. not your accomplishments. but YOU. when you are laid up in bed, can't move, hurt. when you are waking up slow. when you aren't doing anything at all. when the mask is off and you're just breathing. that's what you need. and. fuck. leon can give that to him. because leon isn't thinking about those things. he's thinking about how matthew is brightest when he isn't performing. when he's there, curled up with a book in an oilers sweatshirt he'd never be caught dead in. when he's telling leon how much he loves him. when he lets himself breathe.
and that's the thing!! leon is so so good at motivating the people he loves to love themselves by just. believing in them? and i think that belief would change matthew's whole life. i think he'd start maybe believing it too. that maybe all the shit he's gotten from the people who he trusted the most was not fucking true. that maybe he is worth everything that leon is telling him he's worth. that he can. that he will. that he IS.
i think leon gets choked up when matthew says something good about himself. he'd never admit it, but he does. and i think to be loved by matthew would be the most overwhelming thing in the world, because it is utterly selfless. disregarding of anything. because that need of matthew's, that one to be loved with no conditions? it comes out subconciously in the other direction. it is unavoidable. it's fucking pure. and when he loves, he loves hard. leon almost doesn't know what to do with it, until he realizes it's a gift, and he will never ever deny it. in fact, he will work his entire life to carefully wrap his own love in gift paper, and give it to matthew at every possible moment.
send post.
#but i digress.#thats why mattdrai makes me insane because i know leon could be SO good for matthew he'd knock some fucking sense#(and self worth)#into him.#(and i think he'd punch keith in the meantime)#GOODBYE#mattdrai#this is after seeing the fucking 85 rating matthew gave himself on nhl 24 HES INSANE SOMEONE KISS HIM#matthew character study#leon character study
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I am so unwell about the full moon ep. I need to word vomit about Stoliz for a second pls. I wrote so much
Blitzø is so self-destructive, he can't comprehend the idea that someone like Stolas could actually love him. So instead of accepting Stolas' confession, he gets upset. Assumes that he's not doing enough to keep Stolas' interest. And gets mad at him when he assumes Stolas is doing this as another way to string him along. To play his game. When this is all not true.
Stolas loves Blitzø. Truly and honestly. But he knows that a deal like the one they had was forcing obligation into their relationship, as well as being a very unfair power dynamic. That, let's be fair, Stolas did originally set up himself. He's not fully in the right. But the way that he decided to break off something that was genuinely making him happy, because he now knows it isn't fair to Blitzø, that shows real growth and character development.
And I think deep down Stolas was staying naive to Blitzø's true feelings. He wanted so badly for Blitzø to reciprocate his feelings, and when he didn't get the response he wanted, he shut down fully. He's spent so much time in his life not feeling worth love because of Stella and his father. So in order to guard himself and not let that happen again, he immediately cuts the tie. Doesn't even let Blitzø have a moment to fully comprehend what's happening.
And to make matters worse, Blitzø's lashing out, although yes aimed to hurt Stolas, was done in a way that makes Stolas seem cold and arrogant, IN ORDER FOR BLITZØ TO FEEL JUSTIFIED IN HIS SELF DEPRICATION. Which of course hurt Stolas a lot. And his line of "I think so highly of you. It hurts to hear just how little you think of me" just like.. you know.. ripped my heart out and tore it into little pieces.
Although it literally kills me. I think this break is good for them. Especially Blitzø. Stolas will get a chance to I think gain a small bit of confidence back. And just that fact that he did this at all shows immense amounts of growth. And for Blitzø I'm really hoping this allows him to realize his own feelings. And perhaps he will be able to realize his own self destructive tendencies and maybe take this as a sign to fight back against them for once. Not without some MAJOR depressive and anger induced episodes though. The mans is very very not well and this is certainly not going to help at first.
Anyways... I just needed to word vomit about this. I am obsessed with these two and I will be very very sad about this until the next episode comes out 🥲
#GOD I am just so sad even though i knew this would happen#Helluva boss is just so fucking good#Stolas and Blitzø are just so#AAAAURHHHHGGHHH#i need to go lie down now#helluva boss#stolitz#stolas#blitzø#helluva boss full moon#helluva boss spoilers
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Poly Pip Pirrup and Damien Thorn with a reader that's God's daughter???
(Like she is not her daughter really, she's just his favourite angel and she isn't a nun or anything, instead she has this Broken Gen-Z humor based on su1cid3 or self-depricating dark jokes)
🇬🇧 Pip Pirrup x fem!Reader x Damien Thorn headcanons God's daughter 🔥
You have known Pip for a long time. You always seemed a little strange to him, but good. You studied together and he felt sympathy for you. You didn't insult him, called him by name and didn't hesitate to communicate with him. Sometimes he was bothered by your dark jokes, but he quickly got used to them, sometimes even laughing at them. There was peace in your relationship until Damien showed up
You and Damien have known each other for a while and Pip quickly figured it out. Even though Damien tried to treat you like you were his rival, he wasn't very good at it. Pip saw that Damien liked you and it made him feel jealous, which he carefully hid. He couldn't have had the right to this jealousy, but Damien noticed it perfectly. At first he reacted negatively to it, but pretty quickly he decided for himself that Pip was not so bad
Pip died shortly after he confessed his feelings to you. In Hell, he met Damien, who once again became his only friend. He missed you, but when Damien brought you to him, Pip was horrified. He was afraid you were dead, but you hugged him, telling him with a big smile that you were glad to see him. It was only after you left that Damien told him that you were an angel and they called you the daughter of God because you were his favorite among the angels
Despite the fact that the relationship between the three of you was strange, it suited you. Sometimes Pip was worried that you might get hurt because you were in a relationship with the son of Satan and with Pip himself, but it didn't bother you much. You truly loved them both and were not going to give up your feelings. Sometimes Pip and Damien wondered how you could even be an angel, but their feelings for you wouldn't change even if you were a demon
Despite the fact that your relationship had some limitations due to the fact that Pip was dead, but you were still together. It didn't matter to you whether you met in the city, in Hell or somewhere else. You were always ready to give your loved ones hugs, kisses, or a few of your jokes, which even after death bothered Pip a little, but made Damien laugh a lot, who sincerely liked your sense of humor. The three of you were happy and that was the only thing that mattered to you
#south park#south park x reader#south park headcanons#Pip Pirrup#Pip Pirrup x Reader#damien thorn#damien thorn x reader
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Just some random lil fun facts about my peepaw au, since i can
1, his tail isn't natural whasoever. He spent too much time in radioactive areas and boom! Lil nub tail popped up one day! (No, he didn't notice it until someone pointed it out, and yes, it can retract, but it's uncomfortable after a while, lol)
2, it's called 'slightly feral future leo for a reason, i just haven't explored it properly yet so i don't have many explanations atm '•>• (except that he has 'mission mode', it's basically ptsd but with extra ✨️spice✨️)
3, this man is like, really fuckin active (living my dreams fr) one of his favorite things to do when he isn't lounging on the couch is run! And boy, does he run, he was a lil too eager to get back to it when his abdomen was healing, and luckily nothing bad really happened, but he did get an earful from everyone else
4, contrary to most, my peepaw doesn't have a lot of self depricating thoughts! They're there, but they don't run the show, y'know?
5, like i mentioned in the post about his prosthetic, he's really fuckin heavy (200-250ish kg or 440-550ish lbs), and for good reason! On top of the heavy ass shell attached to him, the undeniable fact that he's mainly made of muscle and built like a damn tank and his prosthetic, i decided to make him 7'4, 223,5cm. What can i say? Tall idiots scratch an itch in my brain
6, he has zero sleep schedule, you will find him awake at the most random of hours, in the most random of places (sometimes he's up for days, but we'll get into that in the future) you'll also find him sleeping in random ass spots, on a light fixture in donnie's lab? Yep. In a corner, crammed between pipes? Yessir. In the middle of the floor? Obviously. Literally in the fuckin closet? Yes. Turtle brain go brrr
7, onto one of my favorites, i personally believe (as illogical as it may be) that rumbling vs churring has to do with size to some extent, the smaller turtles can rumble but they have to think about it, the bigger turtles do it on instinct, make sense? Lemme tell you, this man can sound like a fuckin engine sometimes, mikey loves it ofc. oh, and he makes more turtle noises than the others lol, part of the whole 'feral' thing
8, he's very interested in unicorns still, once a leo, always a leo. But he's also very interested in fashion, and mainly different clothes that look good, are comfortable, AND that he can kick someone's ass in, so he mainly wears loose clothing, and despite the choking hazard, often wears his scarf! I just don't know how to draw it yet, lol (and yes, present leo did get him a unicorn onesie, he loved it)
Oh! And he does usually wear a prosthetic arm, i just havent designed one yet lol (and I'm enjoying not having to draw 2 arms)
Thank you for reading my ramblings!
Have nice day
#rottmnt#sffl(wg)#future leo#save rottmnt#third season#rottmnt fanart#rottmnt future leo#my au#he's just a weirdly active peepaw#and oblivious as fuck#he may be smart but the social cues went out the window a loooong time ago
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i was just randomly thinking about joyce messier, man. her "capital subsumes all critiques into itself" quote is reflected by her pessimistic self awareness. she quite often tells you she's disillusioned with liberalism and wishes she could be someone else living under different rules. she is not proud of herself, and she makes sure you know that. but that apologetic self-deprication is utterly meaningless. she doesn't actually DO anything to make things better around revachol. she's really just there to try and enforce a status quo and books it as soon as it falls apart. the state of revachol isn't really a humanitarian issue as far as wild pines and the moralintern are concerned. it's a farcical trophy, a token they can display to sell the story it was incremental progress and the free market that won the revacholian revolution, and at large, the conflict of class around globe. it tries to sell that this is the only way forward, that your destiny does not belong to you, but to people who can make decisions who coincidentally have all this power and money and education but have never even met you or asked you about what you want and what would help you.
it's a "no we may not be perfect but we are trying to make things better than anyone else" devoid of sincerity, because evidently liberalism and centrism will not truly help anyone once problems they created boil and explode. and the reason why is because they aren't brave enough for any real introspection about the way they conduct politics, because that would involve relinquishing power and capital. if joyce really cared, if joyce really wanted to change things, she would have. and not just her but wild pines and the moralintern themselves. one is not an accidental or helpless defender of liberalism. it requires a certain willingness and self-interested awareness to be complicit (and when convenient, oblivious) of inequality, treating it as some natural matter of fact instead of a real material phenomenon aggravated by the way liberalism and centrism approach any kind of problem.
disco elysium can be very in your face about its politics, but it's very effective about tearing apart bad politics with the viciousness of a lioness with a migraine. there is nothing more unsightly and useless than the self-flagellating liberal. the "i'm sorry i'm white"s who won't call to defund the police. the "i don't see gender"s who won't defend gender-affirming health-care. the tourists who make fun of other tourists preaching cultural awareness but won't pay impoverished locals for souvenirs. the politician who voted for and funded a war offering thoughts and prayers to its victims. truly, there is nothing more useless than the hypocrite. you do not save the world by taking forever just to say "there certainly is a problem", you merely prolong the demise you induced upon it.
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Roommates
Steddie 18+only
Synopsis: Eddie and Steve live together; tension grows
Contents: Making out; insecurity and self depricating thoughts at first, not really angst but angst then comfort
Eddie stood in the kitchen grumbling. He hadn't slept well the night previously. He had tossed and turned. After a long day of work and then lugging equipment for a gig, one would think he would have slept soundly. Yet, for some "unknown" reason, he couldn't go to sleep.
Maybe it was the fact that Eddie was mad at Steve. Eddie had opened the cabinet next to the fridge to get a bowl, but instead found mugs. Steve had rearranged the kitchen to the "right" way- which was absolutely wrong, the mugs should be above the microwave and coffee pot not next to the fridge. Eddie couldn't even find the bowls, slamming each cabinet with more force as his anger grew.
Eddie had half a mind to yell at Steve, and in fact had went to do so. He had thrown Steve's door open without knocking, because well it was his house too. Eddie was not expecting Steve to be making out with some guy. He felt bad for startling the guy, but felt even worse about himself. Steve was straight- well he had thought. And now Eddie has to see Steve kiss a guy? That means Eddie could be getting kissed by Steve since he apparently was okay with guys? And yet he wasn't. "Fix the fucking kitchen," was all he could manage before slamming the door, hearing Steve call out an "Eddie, wait."
Eddie wished he didn't see Steve kissing some random guy. The way his tongue had been in his mouth, his hands on the guy's hips. Sure, he was upset about the kitchen. But Eddie was mad that it wasn't him Steve was kissing. Of course, why would it be him? Steve had never once responded to his flirting. Okay, maybe he flirted back, but he obviously didn't mean any of it, that was just Steve being Steve. There was no way he was actually flirting with Eddie.
Sure, they had almost kissed once. And maybe they did kiss when drunk, but Steve seemed to not remember it the next day. Which made Eddie feel worse- not because Steve forgot him, but because he felt like he had taken advantage of Steve. So, whenever Steve brought up date ideas around Eddie, Eddie encouraged Steve to go out and find someone (even if he wanted it to be himself that Steve took out).
So Eddie was mad at both Steve and himself. He never should have encouraged Steve to date. Nancy had said there was sexual tension and told them to work on it. Nancy was Steve's ex so she should know...but also she's Steve ex so maybe her advice isn't the wisest (not that's she isn't wise but if Eddie had a shot with Steve he would never let Steve go).
And now Eddie was in the kitchen, frustrated and tired and still unable to find the fucking mugs. He is somewhat aware of the front door opening and shutting, but he's too busy glaring at the wall to register it. It doesn't register until there are hands on his hips, making him jump, as he is moved out of the way.
"Excuse me," Steve's hands linger on his hips slightly before he reaches to grab the handle of the cabinet that Eddie had previously been standing in front of.
And Eddie can only blink. Usually his mind is running into overdrive, but maybe it was the lack of sleep that was causing him to not think anything. All he could do was stare at Steve. Steve, wearing a white tank top that clung to him. In fact, it was almost obscene having that patch of chest hair exposed. Those shorts clung to his thighs, those beautiful hairy legs Eddie wanted wrapped around his waist. Those shorts that didn't hide Steve's package at all, and damn was he packing. Steve's yellow sweater was tied around his shoulders.
A light sheen of sweat was covering Steve. Eddie wanted to lick the sweat off of him, which was probably a little gross. Steve's hair was flopping onto his forehead, which Steve absentmindedly pushed back. He was standing there all sin and seduction without even realizing.
Steve turned around to say something to Eddie, but was unable to. Because Eddie's lips were on Steve's. Eddie wishes he could blame it on sleep deprivation. Really, he was a simple man with a lack of restraint. Honestly, how did Steve expect Eddie to hold himself back when he looked like that!
Eddie pulled back quick enough due to Steve's lack of response. Face burning red, hand twitching, Eddie's stomach dropped. "Sor-" the rest of his apology was muffled by lips returning to his.
Oh. Oh! Eddie's mind went blank, mouth moving on instinct. Steve's mouth was soft and plush against his own chapped lips. Steve tasted of strawberries from that stupid chapstick he kept trying to get Eddie to wear. Steve's tongue darted out licking Eddie's lips, making him gasp. Steve didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. Eddie's head was spinning. He felt warm all over. If he was dreaming, he didn't want to wake up.
Steve's hands (those big strong hands that could manhandle Eddie in ways that weren't okay to speak out loud) pulled Eddie closer. Their torsos rubbed against each other. Eddie could feel Steve's course chest hair rubbing against him. It ignited a fire deep in his groin. His pants were definitely tighter then they had been. Steve moved swiftly, placing a leg in between Eddie's and grinding against him. Eddie moaned at the sensation. Eddie could feel Steve's hardness against his thigh, and damn if that didn't make him weak in the knees.
Steve groaned as he pulled back for air. Eddie's eyes couldn't leave Steve's swollen and spit soaked lips. "Hm...what was that for?" Steve asks, voice gravelly. Eddie tries not to show how that effects him (he's pretty sure that he failed).
Eddie waves his hand in Steve's general direction, barely any space between them as Steve still has his hands on Eddie's hips. "You're just..." Eddie let's out a breath," You're too hot." Steve lets out a laugh and shakes his head before leaning in, his nose touching Eddie's. "Great minds think alike-" "you think you're hot too?" "Well...sure, but I meant you." "Oh." "Been waiting for you to do that."
#LETS TRY POSTING THIS ONE AGAIN TOO BECAUSE THIS NEVER SHOWED UP IN THE TAGS#I hope you enjoy it cause I don't know how to end things#Anyways that running outfit makes me froth at the mouth and I too would have 0 control#Steddie#Steddie fic#Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson#Jade is Talking
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Lucien Appreciation 🔥☀️ Post 🔥☀️
I think there is a general love of Cassian and we can all agree that he was always meant to be with Nesta. However.....
Cassian was not a character in Book 1. Which means SJM did not fully envision a future for him in Book 1 as he did not yet exist.
SJM DID envision Lucien ending up with Nesta while writing Book 1.
Of course she later realized they wouldn't be good for one another but she began developing Lucien to be someone with a future in the series right off the bat.
Once she realized he'd have a Mating Bond with Elain, she created a new storyline for Lucien and hinted at further future storylines he would play a role in, even one where he would eventually be a High Lord.
SJM has spent more time developing Lucien as a character than she spent developing Cassian, Az, and even characters like Mor or Amren.
Anyone that tries to discredit his character as weak or worthless or disposable isn't paying attention. Of course he wasn't as prevalent in SF because it was Cassian and Nesta's story. The fact that Lucien was still regularly mentioned in a book where he's not even friends with the two main characters proves that he's just as relevant as ever.
He's got a tragic backstory that still has unanswered questions to it. He's canonically handsome when viewed through the other characters eyes though self depricating about his own scar. He's still searching for the place where he belongs and has unknown powers (something only the females of the series have had so far), a Mating Bond that hasn't been accepted just yet, and an unknown father.
Since Lucien was introduced in Book 1, he has been a constant fixture in Feyre's life as well as many other characters. Love him or hate him but Lucien isn't going anywhere, regardless of how hard someone tries to make him irrelevant.
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19). "There has to be a way to lift this curse!"
"There has to be a way to lift this curse!"
It was an impassioned plea, one that would make most people cave to their sympathetic urges and shower the man in apologies and reassurances however Dabi was not like most people.
Instead he just glared at the man, who was now wasting his precious time by insisting that somehow he, one of the best curse breaker on this continent, was somehow wrong in his assessment about the man's "curse".
"No, there isn't," he said flatly, "Because I can't break a curse that doesn't exist."
The man gaped at him as the crimson feathers of his, admittedly impressive, wings fluffed up as if to flaunt their own presence like their obnoxiously bright colouring, and the fact that a man somehow had wings, hadn't already done so.
"What do you mean I'm not cursed?!" the man screeched in a bird-like wail that had Dabi wincing and if he hadn't been such a prideful bastard who hated to show any kind of weakness in front of people, especially strangers, he would have reached up to cover his now aching ears.
"Are you blind?! What do you think these-" the man spread out his wings to show off their wingspan, taking up the entire room of Dabi's small tent as he did so, "-are caused by?!"
"Your mom fucking a bird," Dabi answered dryly, "Now leave, I have customers with real curses that I can break."
With how the man had previously taken his rejection, Dabi was prepared for the man to put up more fight and having to deal with him through force however the man just folded his wings back behind his back and dropped his head to the floor with a sigh.
"…Do you really think it's not a curse?" he asked in a defeated tone.
It was a question and a tone too hauntingly familiar to Dabi, one he had used years back when he had approached a curse breaker, who would eventually become his teacher in the art of breaking curses, and asked him to break the curse on his own frail body.
"It's not a curse kid, it's just bad luck you were born this way."
Dabi turned away, a self-depricating smirk on his lips as he repeated what had once been told to him, "Sorry kid, it's just bad luck you were born this way."
He paused and turned slightly to shoot the man a side-glance, "Though out of all things people inherit from their parents, I don't think wings is something most would be upset about."
The man laughed sharply, "These things have brought me nothing but pain," he sneered, "And I'm not a kid, the name's Hawks and I'm the new bodyguard for the Crown Prince of Endeavor."
Dabi's body turned to ice before he broke out into a harsh cackle that scratched his throat made his curl up at the waist.
"My, my, I didn't know I was in the presence of such an important person," Dabi grinned manically, "Maybe I can help you after all!"
Hawks looked at him with unease, clearly wary of Dabi's sudden change of heart, "But you just said it wasn't a curse?"
"It's not," Dabi agreed, a grin still curled up at his lips as plans formulated through his mind, "However that doesn't mean there isn't magic in this world that can't alter someone's body and I just happen to know some people who might know what we're looking for."
"What's the catch?" Hawks asked immediately, golden eyes narrowed with distrust.
Dabi just continued to grin, "Nothing much," he assured him, "I just want to meet the Crowned Prince."
And finally take his revenge against his father once and for all.
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I wasn't sure what to do for this to be honest so I hope this is okay! I know most of my followers like Hawks and I've always wanted to write some snark between Dabi and Hawks so I wrote this prompt based on them.
It was nice to get the creative juices flowing, I feel like I've been a bit blocked in writing so these small drabbles might be what helps me get back into the groove (though I should also answer my waiting asks too T-T)
#bnha#bnha dabi#dabi#bnha hawks#hawks#dabihawks#bnha dabihawks#it might be good if people suggest which fandom and characters I write for though if I continue with these prompts 🤔
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Okay so I don't know if you answer these frfr but I need to rant soso bad.
This guy is in my bio and math class (sits nowhere near me) and I've had a crush on him since last year. He's popular and I've repeatedly heard him say he likes blonde girls with blue eyes, fun fact I have brown hair and brown eyes. So already, I'm screwed.
I stare at him all the time in bio because he sits a couple desks in front of me so It's just too easy. Sometimes he turns around and I look away as quickly as possible but he probably noticed. We aren't even friends because we're so different, we barely talk (last time we talked was probably like a month ago because he had to sit next to me for one class and it was like a single sentance). When he does talk to me it's like in a meangirl way like he's mocking me. Guys are mean when they like a girl but idk if he does that I think he's just mean to me cause he thinks im a loser. This isn't even me being self depricating I'm pretty sure I just have a crush on an asshole.
The only reason I think he would ever like me is because of how he treated me last year, not super nice but still. I would help him with his work A LOT we sat next to each other in math most of the year and he thought I was one of the smartest people in the class so he'd ask me and these few guys for help. One time we did like a whole asignment together and I think that's when I peaked in life. Since he's so annoying and I'm so quiet once he said, "I think (my name) hates me" and I said "no I don't" and I think about it all the time because he looked like it was an achivment that I didn't hate him.
I"M SO SORRY THIS IS A GIANT BLOCK OF TEXT.
I just need an outside perspective.
is he more of an outgoing guy or a shy guy?? usually the outgoing guys would be more straight up with you about their feelings by joking about it! shy guys send more subtle signals and would never make the first move! outgoing guys wouldn't make the first move until they know for sure that you are interested in them! from your case I think that he is just immature and not ready for a relationship even if he likes you back! dont be afraid to try and talk to him and become his friend first!
#love#crushes#advice#boys#crush#boy help#relationship#love quotes#relationship quotes#tips#submission#answer#answered
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it hurts so bad when he is on his own but then when he tries to fix it and it gets even worse because he can not fucking control himself. is he asleep, is he awake, no one knows. he's suffocating in his own grief and agony of self deprication and probably a coctail of meds. AND THE WAY HE DELIVERS those three last lines.... girl i'm kissing you on the mouth its so raw and out there from the rest of the opening of the song... that night the screaming hurt because it didn't come from him, it was someone else for once
"we find each other under blankets as warm as summer" is such a EASY lyric and it even rhymes so it's not even that rythmically complex, but the way he delivers it in the song makes me ascend into heaven forever and ever. as warm as summer. come on now... it makes summer warmth seem so comfortable even if it isn't (for me, anyway), is this the point? to make something so uncomfortably warm seem so heavenly??? am i the freak here who hates the sun??? (yes) "we are inseparable" INSEPARABLE. COME ON. AND YOU HAD TO RUIN IT.... the echo of the singing also sends shivers through my brain. it's somewhere far away from you but yet close because otherwise you wouldn't be hearing it... just like a dream, so clear yet distorted
this guy is describing a corpse like i an art student explain a still life painting. "we made it that way" shifting the blame. it was y o u who did it, not we. who is we. you killed them and now you are removing yourself from the situation because this is fine, it's all fine. it's just for the influence, an artist needs inspiration. they have more songs about death and inspiration... im so insane about this band. he's not grasping the situation, he thinks he's still falling in his dream forever but no it's wrong, it's done, it's done forever. "This coma kiss is infinite" no reason i just really like that line. a fluid and intricate dream also insinuates the fact that he remembers it crystal clear....
he's repeating it again, it makes me think he's somewhat grasping the situation but still in complete denial because oh it was so beautiful, death can't be beautiful. i am thinking about a soft green fleece blanket that looks like moss for no reason. he wrapped her up, drowned her, as she was bleeding out trying to stop it so now the blanket is soaked, she was struggling so it got everywhere. now she was the one who was suffocating, not him. "wrapped up in her" he might've been too delusional to realise what he was doing until it was too far gone and he had to make it final so he could never get rid of her even in death, so he made them inseparable from each other because this way they will always be connected.
it all got the better of him, his love became violent and too much, he betrayed himself and her by giving in to his dream like state. he know's he's delusional, that he's better left alone, he trusted himself too much and it landed him here.
morning arrived, it's still so fuzzy in his head he can't grasp it, the same song will have been embedded into his brain, their song, the only thing he could've heard. it's inseparable from the situation now, just like he and her... but the aftermath is grotesque, the ripped out hair, the smell of copper that will never leave. she tried to get out, the hair in the phone cord indicates, but he wanted it all for himself, he couldn't have anyone else nearby. it was a nightmare afterall, which figure would she have called upon if he had let her... he didn't want to find out. but now it's over and perhaps he doesn't know what happened. it was a nightmare not real life. something is wrong, so so wrong, why isn't she moving, why is there blood everywhere. heartrate speeding up yet skipping beats from the fear. something's not right. the fact that the music cuts out before the last line makes me think that it finally clicked, this wasn't a dream afterall
@pikslasrce never call me a coward again <3
@theslyvoid9 tagging you because ive been talking about this stupid song for months now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! moss and all!!!!!
DREAMING BY BOYS NIGHT OUT maybe ill finally be normal avbout this (lying) heres sleep deprived rambles of a song i am obsessed with.....
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random fuckin' musings of a mildly deranged collection of lil guys
i feel like most people need to,,, become okay, a lot more okay than we are (including myself in that. tho tbh we have somewhat gotten good at this) with being kind of shit at being a social person.
and i don't mean just- okay at being awkward, or okay with being anxious, or kinda weird. i mean, okay at being harmful. okay with the fact their actions, on a long enough timescale, WILL probably upset someone for Legitamate Reasons. okay with being kind of an ass sometimes.
and i know. doesn't that- sound like a pass to just be a piece of shit, to you?
not really. in fact, i would say this is what could help a lot of people correct and learn from the shitty behaviour they're already doing. to recognise 'shitty/harmful behaviour' is not just a Thing isolated to any class of person, not a thing that pegs you as uniquely Evil or leaves a permanent moral mark.
'cause like,,, to my mind, a lot of people are so Focused on not being The Bad Thing, they refuse to listen when they participate in The Bad Actions- because i'm not a racist, because i'm not ableist, because i'm not queerphobic, because i'm not intersexist- we're all, just, constantly, consistently, in a worldwide competition to be the least problematic bitch in town.
and that's just the broad, societal shits, that don't necessarily mean much on a personal scale for many of the people being bitches about them.
(venty rant starts under the cut lmaooo we were trying to make a broad statement about all people and then realised. oop babes this is just your own miserable life)
and sure! sure, the main example of people who proclaim their various misdeeds are people who don't think of them as misdeeds at all, and that must be a scary thought- to turn into someone like that. but,,, from my observation, including in my personal life, the people who Refuse to see any action they have taken as Bad, the people who start to go off about their good intentions or are too focused on being good, on doing good and being a good person and so on and so forth, are typically the most insufferable when they harm me.
and i feel kind of insane, in my personal life, because by GOD do i feel harmed, and it's so confusing when the person who harmed you starts to either go off about how hard they have been trying (with a subtle flavour of 'you're not being grateful enough' running as constant aftertaste), or start to get insanely self-depricating, to imply they just can't do better,,, or both.
where 'goodness' is the only resource that matters, where it is only valuable when it is 'pure', no fucking progress can be done, is my point. and we've been untangling all this for years, and i think i know why, every time we meet a new person as of late, with a bit of due time, we get disappointed that they aren't really like us beyond surface level.
because anecdotally, in our lives, no one takes the time to dig through their own brain cupboards to check for red flags.
And it's exhausting, constantly rummaging the chests and barrels of our psyche to find how things we do could be harmful- yes, to a maladaptive degree, i never said we were a paragon of mental health. It is exhausting, when that effort isn't met with barebones reciprocation. It makes me go balls to wall banana pudding, when I make an effort, again and again, to say 'this doesn't define you, you can change, I won't hold it against you' to every last person who hurts me, who says my pain isn't real, who pushes me, who doesn't seem to see me as an individual, when I bring up harmful things we have done, over and over and over, when I constantly have to be the one apologising and catching mistakes and noticing shitty patterns, and the people around me won't even help me break them.
(like bitch, i get ur drowning in ur own guilt, but please, for the love of god, assert urself when we get caught in a loop of angry ramblin' for the thousandth time this week??? i keep sayin', we have hairthin triggers, we really struggle to shut up once we start goin' off, bein' told to stop will make us stop, we learned that lesson, fucks sake why do i have to do everythin' around here-)
and- and it's our fault, innit. it's our fuckin fault for not bein able to essplain well enough, for not bein over it enough, for reinforcin these patterns with our fuckin, therapist-friend mode, for thinkin sooo highly of ourselves, for puttin ourselves repeatedly in positions of power over others, but FUCK, when we try to treat ppl like equals we always go too fast an haveta Catch It, when we treat 'em like an authority we real quick go into Programmed Inferior space, an yes, we are traumatised, we are toxic as fuck, we have no experience with bein equal to no one-
ough. well, maybe we used to. ideologically, we dont think we are Inherently Better or Inherently Worse than anyone else, as much as we can keep that balance. we do feel, deeply, like we are prolly a worse person socially speakin than many of the people that hurt us, cause we often cannot be polite an genuine at the same time, 'cause we,,, fuck
truth is, it does feel like trauma gave us superpowers. all our close friends have, for almost a year now, been tellin' us we're scary perceptive. tellin' us, we always know what to say to make it better, directly an indirectly.
truth is, hearin 'always try to do ur best' sounds like a fuckin order to skin ourselves alive no matter the 'depending on where you are physically and mentally :3' stipulations, 'cause i bet if there was good enough cause, we physically could.
truth is, it feels like we are a mile ahead in trauma recovery, an we are drownin in a lake no one else has gotten to yet.
truth is, i keep wishin this wasn't true, that we could get help, that it was easy, to find someone who will be more- or at least around- as perceptive as us, who will care, who will be genuinely interested in the thins we do an impressed by the thins we make, who will love us an guide us an, just, be good instead of actively harmful. truth is, such a person would likely have to be a famed trauma therapist who takes a million for a session, or else a find so lucky i frankly dont think 'needle in a haystack' covers it.
truth is, it aint that i cant imagine ever bein happy, if we were friends with someone too much like us.
its that, when i try, the pain of the impossible becomes too much to bear too fuckin quickly, an the guilt of seein myself as so fuckin above everyone else smothers any leftover comfort.
this is why, of late, our go-to phrases became 'don't let perfect being the enemy of good' and 'i hope someone kills me with rocks.' if you even care
#slovo talks#vent post#vent#cw vent#emotional abuse#tw abuse#trauma#mental health#complex ptsd#plurality#politics#well anyway#hopefully i tagged all of the possible triggers. prolly not but also im too small of a blog for it to matter all that much. lmao#tell me if i missed smth too egregious ig
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