#wanted to draw somethin silly

[juaneloriginal]

"Hey Black, i've heard you're pretty strong"

ye his head it still not on

Black belongs to kat @blackkatdraws, hai kat :3

[todayisafridaynight]

i made refs for myself solely for color picking and so i remember how i draw daigo’s pants and im too busy cackling at daigo In General when put in between these two

[cosmicdenro]

youre right i've been fucked up all along ...... if i actually want them old then 40's ain't it 🚶🏾

[airborneice]

can we talk about how @the-hilda-librarians-wife is just out here writing poetry in the tags like it’s no big deal

@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family

you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed

(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)

[willowser]

i keep thinking about touya going to the same spot he and his ex do drop off, every two weeks. it's outside some little bakery that he thinks is too expensive—and he has a sneaking suspicion that's why his baby mama chose the place—but he always buys his little bug something regardless. a pink pastry with lots of sprinkles and frosting, in the shape of a unicorn or something or other.

and you always come with him. have been for a few years now and you make friendly small talk with his ex and when his daughter jumps into your arms, you swing her around and you both giggle to each other, foreheads pressed together, eyelashes blinking close enough to make his heart swell.

and the first time you're not there, his daughter doesn't wait a minute after jumping out of her mom's car to frown up at him and ask, "where's bub?"

and truthfully, touya's been dreading this moment since he'd pissed you off enough to have you storming out of his apartment, a few days ago. still doesn't know what to tell her, how to explain that he's never loved someone the way he loves you and yet he's sabotaging everything anyway.

"bub is at bub's house."

her light little eyebrows pull down ever further, until a crease forms between them, and then she even takes another look behind him in case he's joking. "why?"

touya grinds his gum between his teeth and tells himself it's better than a cigarette. "she just is."

his ex doesn't say anything, thank god, but he can feel the once over she gives him. he looks like shit and he knows it, because he's aggravated and disappointed in himself, and all the things he'd normally use to deal with those feelings would break his sobriety. so he's only got some spearmint gum.

his daughter doesn't say anything else until they're in their seats on the train, her by the window, drawing shapes in the fog her breath makes. they go through a tunnel and the light from the day disappears and she loses interest, turning to stare up at touya as he closes his eyes and leans his head back as far as it can go.

"are you and bub mad at each other?"

touya opens his eyes, but stares only at the ceiling of the train. all he can see is the hurt on your face when he'd yelled at you, the anger that he drew out, like a poison. "it's—" one thing he tries not to do to his kid, however, is lie. "somethin' like that."

she shuffles around in her seat until she's facing him fully, leaning her head against the back of it as she blinks her big, blue eyes up at him. "did she be mean to you?"

"no."

"did you be mean to her?"

it seems so complicated, when touya thinks about it. why he'd started a fight with you, where his insecurity comes from, why he wants you so bad but is too afraid to admit it out loud—but then his kid makes it seem so easy. so silly.

touya shuffles until he's facing her, too, and even scoots down in his chair so they're eye-level, almost like whispering school girls at a slumber party. "yeah," he admits. "i was kinda mean to her."

"but why?"

touya frowns and still doesn't know what to say. the city skyline opens up behind her, out in the distance, and he watches the setting sun over the buildings until it starts to make him sick. "you remember when you had that scooter, and you fell and scraped your knee?" she nods. "and then you didn't want to ride it anymore because you were afraid you'd do it again? it's...like that."

not a single look of understanding comes across her face.

touya sighs and scoots back upright, bending to dig his phone from his pocket. "you wanna talk to her?"

"yeah!"

he pulls up your contact in his phone—just your name and all the hearts removed, because he's petty like that—but instead of staring at it like he has been for days—he finally calls. it wouldn't surprise him if you didn't answer, but he gnaws his lip as it rings, and it seems like he and his little girl both hold their breath.

"hello?"

when he hands off the phone to his daughter, she happily snatches it up, turning on her knees to look out the window as she grins. "hi bub!"

and touya still doesn't know what to say or how he'll fix it, but he finds some comfort—some of the words—when he hears the tone in your voice change, all sing-song and adoring. "hi, my angel!"

[su-momswaup]

Lapis in pants Peri in tanks?

idk I just wanted to draw them in silly outfits and mess with rendering water and light/ light through water, they’re probably going to a pool or somethin (jaspers robbing a bank? Idk that’s the first rhyme that popped into my head but imma draw that)

[luvfy0dor]

congratulations on 600 follows yay!! always love reading your works🫶

can i request first and neck kisses with chuuya?

so sorry if im reading the rules wrong, thank you in advance!

Chuuya Nakahara + First and Neck Kisses ♡⁠˖

Warnings; probably ooc

Chuuya had been in a few relationships before he got into one with you, but no matter how many first kisses he shared with people, he always felt some anxiety form in the pit of his stomach. He knew you liked him just as much as he liked you, but the little voice in his head constantly brought up the possiblity that you'd grimace and run away like a kid anytime he thought about kissing you. Currently he sat in his office, trying to hype himself up to ask you for a kiss that night. You were gonna come over and he'd suggest you watch a romantic movie, and then he'd improvise from there on. 'A brilliant plan!' He thought, 'feels a little sleazy though, like somethin' the mackerel would do..' he shrugged and stood up, pushing his chair in and rounding his stuff up to head home. He hopped on his motorcycle and drove through the streets of Yokohama or his residence, taking the elevator up to his penthouse. His eyes widened when he found you already waiting there for him, sitting at the island in the kitchen. "Chuuya, you're home!" You say enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to give him a hug. He practically dropped everything to open his arms for your embrace, pulling you in and resting his head on his shoulder. Anticipation was building up in his stomach, giving him butterflies and making him feel silly and stupid for literally planning out his first kiss with you. He didn't care though and pulled away from the hug with a smile. "How was work?" You asked him, brushing his bangs away from his face. He stared at you with a smile but not a single thought behind his eyes. You raised a brow. "Chuuya?" You asked again, readying yourself to wave a hand in front of his face to take him out of whatever haze he was in, but he seemed to have snapped out of it on his own. "Oh, uh, it was pretty good, how was work for you?" He asked in return, his eyes staring directly at your lips, his cheeks getting a little pinker with each passing second. "It was good, my least favorite coworker was out." You tell him. "Can I kiss you?"

The words took your breath away momentarily and your eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, go right ahead-" and that's exactly what he did, gently guiding your face towards his with his gloved hand. His heart swelled in his chest as your lips finally touched like he had wanted them to for a while now. He felt your hand entangle in his slightly messy hair and pull him in closer, just to have to pull away seconds later for air. Chuuyas breath was unsteady and his cheeks, nose, and lips were all red when he peered up at you through his long lashes. You grinned. "That was super eager, Chuuya. It's okay though, I've wanted to kiss you for a while now too." His ears visibly perk up and he can't help but smile a tad bit at your words, though he tries to fight it. "Have you really?" You nod. He sighs and hugs you, burying his head in the crook of your neck and pressing some soft kisses on your skin there. You smiled and rubbed his back, drawing small hearts into the fabric of his jacket while he continued to kiss all over your neck. He eventually sighs and just rests his head on your shoulder, his body relaxing under your gentle touch. "This feels like a whole different Chuuya." You tease. "Oh, shut up, I've wanted to kiss ya for a while, it's nothin' new." He says with a grimace. It makes you giggle and you lean in to kiss him again, tracing his sharp jawline with your thumb. He's a little caught off guard but quickly leans into it like second nature, putting his hands on your hips. "It's okay Chuuya, I love you just the same." He rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, sweetheart...I love you too, though."

A/n; AHHHHH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH MWAH 💖💖 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! It might be a little out of character but I hope it's not too bad, thank you for the request!!

[argisthebulwark]

"Would You Kill For Me?"

summary: asking your partner the most intimate question of all - would he kill for you? gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Cicero, Teldryn, Vilkas, Miraak, Brynjolf, Erandur, Farkas, Mercer warnings: obv allusions to violence, nothing explicit. alcohol.

"I already have."

Cicero giggles, slapping a gloved hand on your shoulder. "Of course I've killed for you! Silly Listener, asking your poor, beloved Cicero such a question." Rationally, you know any other person would be upset - but it's endearing. You know deep in your heart that Cicero would slice through anyone who even looks at you wrong without a second thought. "Would you kill for your Keeper?" He asks coyly, sliding closer. It's too difficult to resist his charm. You find yourself grinning, remembering the many threats of bodily harm you've inflicted upon any initiate who breathes a negative word about your beloved. "Any day, my love."

"Why? You offering to return the favor?" Teldryn smirks before taking a drink from his mug. The tip of his boot knocks into yours under the table, earning a nice flush in your cheeks. You've clearly had too much to drink but Teldryn looked so pretty in the low tavern lighting, the alcohol loosening your tongue enough to voice all those silly little questions you've had floating around. "You have?" You urge, leaning so far over the table you're practically laying on it. Teldryn grins, bowing toward you and his voice conspiratorially low when he speaks again. "Of course - why do you think all that chatter about you being an untrustworthy outlander stopped so quickly?" "I thought my good deeds were enough to earn their trust." You pout, thinking back on the sudden shift in opinion. "Oh yes, yes - that too, but a few well placed jabs never hurt."

"I'd die for you."

"Isn't that better? To die for you?" Vilkas laments, lips stained red from his third glass of wine. The question had hardly been in your mind before it slipped out - late nights toasting to the Companions often left you tipsy. "I'd rather you lived for me." You hiccup, leaning closer to him. Those dark eyes still track every little move you make despite the intoxication. "A happy, long live if I have any say in the matter." He lapses into silence but you know his mind is still chewing on that question. Swirling the wine in his glass Vilkas reclines into his seat, staring earnestly into the low burning fire. "Vilkas, it was just a silly question." Those eyes cut straight through you, blinking away whatever retort he'd come up with before simply placing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"I would die in your stead." Miraak's hands cup your face, each word soaked in adoration. "I've died in your arms once, my Dragon. I would gladly do it once more." You will never truly grow accustomed to this version of him - stripped of the malice he'd lived with for so long, he's become devoted to you. Too many pupils gaze lovingly into your eyes, the crooked bridge of his nose bumping yours. You've never known a love like his and doubt that many ever will - he's had lifetimes to yearn, to want something more and hone a vocabulary that often leaves you a flustered mess. "You're far too serious." He grins at those words, the ones you've said dozens of times. "I would tear the world to shreds for you, my love. I would tear myself to shreds."

"I cant."

Brynjolf's words carry a silent apology - of course you knew his answer but watching him squirm can be fun. "I'm sorry, love - I know it isn't the romantic answer but I don't think I could bring myself to do somethin' like that. Not after -" "Bryn." Grasping his face, your heart still skips a beat when those green eyes find yours. "I know that blade you wear is simply decorative, I would never ask you to draw it." "It is not merely decorative, it serves other purposes." "Such as?" "It's fairly useful for intimidation. And breaking windows." He huffs, pressing a kiss to your palm. He pauses for a moment, eyes falling closed and nose nuzzled into your hand. "Truth be told, I like to say that I wouldn't - hell, I tell myself I won't take a life every day, but after Mercer takin' you away from me, I'm not so sure."

"I swore against such actions, my love." Erandur murmurs, forehead pressed to yours. "Lady Mara may have forgiven my past transgressions but I took an oath to bring no further harm to her people." "Of course, dearest." You smile, a bit entertained by how easy it is to get him talking. Erandur's fingers play across yours, rings bumping into your knuckles. "Would you kill for me?" You're a bit shocked by his question, even further surprised by the little hint of hope buried in his words. "Without second thought." It's the easiest answer in the world. Of course you would kill for Erandur - you would fight through hordes of enemies to ensure his safety. "I can only pray that your Lady's forgiving attitude extends to me."

"Of course."

Brows raised, Farkas assesses you across the training yard. He sucks in a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow before heaving the giant practice sword over one shoulder. "Any day." He says easily, a quick kiss pressed to your brow. No matter how long you're together this sight still seems too good to be true - muscles glistening in the midday sun, his hair tied back and an easy smile on his face. "Why, you need someone killed?" "Not at the moment." "If one of those recruits gets too mouthy, you come find me." He grins before turning his attention back to a battered training dummy. You notice after that question that his sword strikes just a bit harder, hammering that point home.

"No." Mercer lies, kicking his feet atop the desk. You mirror his position - boots on the desk and arms crossed, though the scowl is hard to mimic. He's perfected it. "Yes you would." You counter, fighting back a laugh when he rolls his eyes. That little divot appears between his brows - it's cute. You'd tell him but fear being assigned some awful job across the continent. "Why bother asking?" He grumbles, shoving a stack of paperwork toward you. "If you insist on hanging around asking inane questions, least you could do is make yourself useful." "I'd kill for you." "Lovely." He mutters, though you note a bit of color rising in his cheeks when he turns to some parchment he'd pointedly ignored all evening. It's too easy to get under his skin.

[my-own-walker]

requesting kit with younger reader, where he picks her up from college and takes her for a milkshake but then they have sex in his car and after he has to drop her down the street because her parents don’t approve of him

Oh! You Pretty Things

note: this is cuteeeeee. thanks for the spicy kit request. i was getting bored of writing inside-the-asylum kit hehe

warnings: sm*t, p in v, oral m receiving, teasing, cursing, kinda overstim, not really tho

+++

The second hand moved so slowly on the clock, I thought it might be broken. Class always went slower when I knew I’d be seeing Kit afterward. Thursdays were our day.

My parents didn’t know. They hated the idea of me being distracted from my studies by some silly boy. I was, in fact, sticking my neck out by going to college as a woman, so I had to succeed. But, the new decade called for liberation for us women. I was proving a point by being able to date and do well in school.

I digress. I met Kit after my father's car got a flat. He showed up in his tow truck to save the day.

'Scummy, those mechanics,' my father quipped as we drove away.

I walked to the gas station Kit said he worked at the next day, set on getting him to ask me on a date.

We'd been secretly meeting up for dates ever since. He'd come to pick me up after my last class of the day every Thursday and take me out somewhere. I could, at times, sneak away to see Kit on other days of the week, but Thursdays were a set date. My mother and father had no idea. They thought I would stay late to study.

In my daydreaming daze, I almost didn't notice my classmates getting up to leave. I gathered my things hastily and rushed out of the room and into the bright daylight of the afternoon. The sun's light on the pavement was nearly blinding. I shaded my eyes with my hand as I walked to the curb, looking desperately for Kit's car.

Within seconds, his shiny black car came slowly up to the side of the street.

'Hey, pretty thing! You goin' my way, doll?' he called out of his window, acting as if he were a creepy stranger. I giggled and got into the passenger's side.

'You have no idea how nice it feels to do this,' I sighed, kicking my shoes off as Kit drove off.

'Rough day, beautiful?' He wore his work uniform. Some jeans, a white undershirt, and his button-up with his name on it. His hair was perfectly tousled, and the shirt was unbuttoned so that part of the white undergarment was showing. He looked soft and warm, and his smile lit up his eyes.

'Just a very long one, and I'm starving.'' I said, drawing out the word 'very.' I flipped down the visor and slid open the mirror, smoothing my hair and fixing the line of my lipstick while regarding my reflection. I pulled the tube of peach lipstick out of my bag and touched up my pout, making faces at myself all the while.

'Havin' fun over there?' Kit laughed.

'I'm beginning to think this shade is old hat,' I sighed. 'Maybe I should try red like Marilyn.'

'I don't care what color they are so long as I get to kiss 'em,' he smirked, taking one hand off the steering wheel and placing it on my upper thigh. I didn't even notice how far my dress had ridden up my leg since getting in the car.

I blushed and giggled, tucking the front pieces of my hair behind my ears. I will admit, I was still in the lavender haze with him.

He pulled into the parking lot of the small roadside diner in our town. It was quaint, tucked away in some trees, filled with truckers from out-of-state and old ladies meeting for lunch. It was a stone's throw from Kit's job, and the perfect place to hide away. Somewhere neither of my parents would dare go.

We sat at the tall counter in the center of the place. This was part of our little Thursday routine. I would always come out of class absolutely ravenous. We'd pick far-away or unknown places to eat before truly spending time together.

'You want somethin', my pretty thing?' Kit asked as the waitress stood in front of us.

'Honestly, a milkshake would be a gas,' I smiled up at the waitress. 'Strawberry.'

'That's all you want?' Kit asked as she walked away. 'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, Kit, I'm alright,' I replied, feeling around in my bag for a light for my cigarette. 'Shit, I must have dropped my lighter somewhere. It's not here.'

'Don’t worry doll, I got you,' he drawled, flicking his own open and holding it under the cigarette clenched in my teeth. I took a long drag and exhaled. The waitress returned and placed my drink in front of me, and Kit's meal in front of him.

I looked over at Kit and caught him taking me in. He looked me up and down and chuckled softly.

'My, you are a dream,' he cooed, placing a hand on my chin to bring me in for a kiss. I went in for a peck and was alarmed to find that Kit wanted more.

'Baby, not here,' I said through gritted teeth, pulling away quickly. I looked around to make sure no one saw. 'You're an animal.' I laughed and he returned the smile.

'I just can't control myself around you, pretty.'

'Well then hurry up and finish your food so we can peel out,' I giggled, pushing his shoulder playfully.

+

There was an old abandoned schoolhouse in town 5 minutes away from my house. Kit and I would find ourselves in the back parking lot frequently. Tucked away from the public eye in his car.

As soon as Kit parked the car, he dragged me into the back seat with him. We made out furiously, like two caged animals that were finally set free. It was a small space, but we sure made it work.

I took over, immediately pushing Kit's back up against the door, placing my hands on his chest to hold him down. His white undershirt was soft against my palms. I could feel his heart pounding furiously beneath my fingertips. A pace that signaled to me just how much he wanted this.

We kissed for only a short time before clothes started getting removed. First, I aided him in removing his work shirt. Then, I worked to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. He slid them off quickly. I took that time to remove my panties, throwing them hastily to the front seat.

His erection was noticeable through his white briefs. My hand immediately reached to touch it, only for it to be held back.

'Not yet, sweetheart,' he smiled. He pushed me back into the door on my side and continued making out with me. His hands groped all over my body, paying particular attention to my breasts. 'Oh this dress just won't do,' he muttered.

My high-necked smock dress was fit for school, yes, but not for this. He reached behind me and unzipped the fabric smoothly. He tugged the material and it slid down to expose my bra. Kit smiled as he looked into my eyes, then turned his attention back to my chest. He peppered kisses all over my sensitive skin, making goosebumps raise all over my body.

First, he slid my left bra strap off my shoulder, creating a bit more slack and revealing more of my skin. He took his time to kiss all of the areas of skin he hadn't before, going agonizingly slow so that I would get hot and bothered. He loved when I was hot and bothered.

Next was the right bra strap. The ceremony continued. His ritualistic dance of adorning love to every inch of my body made every horrible minute spent without him worth it. His mouth inched closer and closer to the very edge of my bra. Eventually, I gave in to the teasing and reached back to unhook the damn thing myself.

Deciding I'd had enough, though, I pushed Kit back again. This time, all the way down so that he was laying across the back seat. My hand reached for his bulge and stroked it. He whimpered in pleasure. I took the waistband of his briefs in my fingers and tugged, making his dick spring loose.

I lined myself up with him and slid his throbbing erection into my slick middle, feeling every inch of it go deeper and deeper into me. I cried out involuntarily and began bouncing on it, feeling our two bodies connect naturally. My walls tightened around it. He moaned softly.

'Oh baby, yeah,' he spat through gritted teeth as I continued to ride him. I stooped down and kissed him passionately, still keeping a rhythm. His shaking hands reached up to grope my breasts again, this time more firmly. He slid his hands down to my waist and held it, almost as if he were trying to feel some sort of control over me.

I continued moving my hips atop his dick. His length went so deep within me, I thought I'd scream. I put both of my palms on either side of his chest to steady myself. His breathing got more ragged, and I could feel his heart racing still.

'Fuck,' Kit grunted, trying not to come so easily. He gathered what strength he had a lifted me off of his erection by my waist. I sat back and slid down to a laying position as he rose to position himself above me, both of us maintaining eye contact as we went. He wanted a turn on top.

I didn't even get a chance to settle before his large cock was inside me again. I yelped and screwed my eyes closed, existing at that moment at his very will. He held my wrists, which were resting just next to my head, down so that I couldn't move. I whined in protest but was silenced by his lips on mine.

Sweat formed on his brow. I could feel myself succumbing to the waves of orgasm. But, neither of us wanted to be the first to give in. I breathed heavily to steel myself, but it was to no avail. I came first, crying out and moaning loudly. He slid out of me and stroked my hair as the fits of pleasure overtook me.

Kit sat back against the door on his side of the car once again, breathing heavily. I regained my composure and sat up, sitting back on my heels. I stooped down and took his pre-cum covered dick in my mouth. I flicked my tongue over the tip and reveled in the whimpers and cries Kit was letting out. He grabbed and pulled my hair gently as I continued to suck him off.

'I-I'm gonna come,' he mustered, trying to warn me in case I wanted to stop. Instead, I let him blow his load directly into my mouth. I ignored the warmth and bitter taste as I swallowed. He moaned and threw his head back, eventually relaxing into his position. I wiped my mouth and sat back as well.

Recovered from his orgasm, Kit leaned forward and laid half-beside and half-on me, resting his head on my chest. I sighed in contentment.

'God, you're good at that,' Kit whispered, laughing softly. I laughed too. He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. He kissed the back of each finger as well to emphasize his gratefulness. He nestled closer into me. I nearly fell asleep listening to his breathing even out.

I gasped suddenly when I looked out the window and saw the sun setting. 'Shit, Kit, we have to get me home!'

We both worked quickly to redress. He helped me with the tough job of zipping up the back of my dress. I scrambled out of the back door and into the passenger door, slamming it shut and bringing the visor down to once again look at myself in the mirror. Kit clambered up to the front from the back seat and settled himself in.

He turned the key in the ignition and started the car up. He paused, though, before going. I looked away from fixing my lipstick for a moment to see what was the matter. Kit shifted in his seat and reached for something that was under him. In his hand was my panties.

'I uh, think you're gonna need these,' he chuckled, blushing. I smacked his arm and snatched them from his grip.

'Oh, hush! Stop! It's not funny,' I protested, half-laughing as well. I shoved them into my handbag demonstratively. 'Now hurry up and drive!'

+

The ride home was quick enough. The sun was still setting as Kit got to the end of my street. He had to drop me there to avoid my parents seeing anything.

'Are you sure you're gonna be okay walking over there this late? I don't need anyone snatching my girl,' Kit spoke.

'I'll be fine, Kit. No one really walks my street. Plus, it's not even that dark,' I assured him.

'Well okay, but I'll be parked here watching ya, okay?'

'Just don't be too obvious,' I warned.

He leaned over and grabbed my face, pulling me in for one last, passionate kiss. When I pulled away, my lipstick was all over his face. I just chuckled to myself and opened the door.

'I love you, you pretty thing,' he called after me.

'I love you too, Kit,' I smiled.

+++

Literally cannot lie I got a bit, uh, bothered myself writing this one LOL. Let me know if you liked this one!

[harpsinfinity]

Drawing tattoos on simon but then reader makes a mistake so they like......suck...it off.......... UHHH YEAH ^^

This silly little request made me giggle..thank u ❗❗🔥🔥

There is a little bit of smut if you blink.. Literally the last line

Ghost makes me want to get tattoos too..imma match w him fr ❗😋

Both you and Simon sat on the sofa, one of his arms grasped in your hands while you draw all sorts of tattoos on his big meaty arm. The marker your using gliding across his arm, you very expertly (not) draw a skull on his arm "What you think ?" Simon takes a glance at his arm and hums in response, you lightly trace the tattoo you drew on him along with the other ones he had permanently inked into his skin, admiring them. Admiring his big veiny arms..(tbh I would too) you start drawing something else on his arm, you accidentally slip with the marker and mess up what you were drawing. You quickly try to think on how to remedy the mistake, you come up with the fantabulous idea to suck it off..you bring your lips to his arm, looking over at him to find him absently scrolling on his phone, and you run your tounge over the accident and start to gently suck it off. His eyes flick over in your direction, a very confused look on his face "the fuck are you doing, love?" You wipe off the saliva you left and find the mistake you made now gone, you smile at him "nothin' just made a mistake" you go back to drawing tattoos on him, humming to yourself.

"Should use that mouth for somethin else next time.."

[fun-k-board]

AAAA YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!! :3333 could I maybe request CG Storm and CG Rogue? Maybe them and a little reader who’s a bit on the fussy/ tantrum-y side?

Thank you!!!!! ^^ (u probably know who this is but I’m too scared to come off anon 😭)

X-MEN '97 - Little reader who's fussy and tends to have tantrums

SFW INTERACTION ONLY!! AGE REGRESSION IS NOT A KINK!!

Note(s): HEHHE I KNOW!! It's alright tbh I'm terrified of coming off anon too (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Powered through writing this because you're cool as hell and I like you! 💪 I don't and didn't really have the most idk 'attentive' family, so I'm not the best judge on how to take care of kids or people in a kids mindset, I may be a little bad at writing for caregivers and age regression in general because of this.

ANNA MARIE DARKHÖLME / ROGUE

'Hey, hey now sugah, let's calm down, you don't want to go in time out and I don't want to send ya. Explain to me why you don't like the food, I'm perfectly alright gettin' you somethin' different, there ain't no need to get upset.'

Anna can sometimes tell when you're about to have a tantrum or become more fussy than usual, even if you tend to take a while to throw a full fit, she'll watch you carefully and try to prevent one from fully forming. Gently kissing you on the forehead and brushing back your hair, asking what's wrong with a worried look on her face.

The moment you start yelling, kicking, or even crying, maybe after ignoring her question, she finds it hard not to just fold and give you what you want, after all, you're just so cute. However, her sense of responsibility and care for you overwhelms her need to coddle you.

Anna will say your name firmly, getting you to pay attention to her, and only her. She'll get a tissue for you and wipe your tears away, and ask firmly what you're sad or angry about and if you could possibly explain it to her.

If you can't verbally, for whatever reason, she'll give you the opportunity to write it on paper or she'll play a guessing game with you, the guessing game is only for when you're extremely upset and need cheering up though.

If you explain, in whatever format you need to, that you're upset because of an issue that's causing you distress, maybe food triggered sensory issues, someone was mean to you, etc, then she'll let you off the hook because you clearly didn't mean to cause any harm and you were just acting out.

Rogue will give you a bit of a talking to, telling you that crying and throwing things makes it difficult to help, but that's about it. Given it's not your fault she isn't actually too mad, she just wants you to understand that she won't know how to help if you're kicking and screaming.

If, however, your outburst was because of a silly reason, say you don't like the colour crayons and you throw them at her, she won't be as quick to accept it and move on.

She's still very sympathetic and won't ever raise her voice at you, even when you've done something especially terrible for no apparent reason.

Anna is very lenient and her 'punishments' usually just include a minute or so sitting in the corner, maybe withholding drawing from you for the day, but she always makes sure to explain in detail why you're being punished and it's usually only a last resort.

Rogue is very sweet even when she's being stern, her eyes can't help but go soft and her tone slips from that firm scolding one she uses when you're being bad, to a sweet almost coo-like baby voice.

Afterwards she comforts you like there's no tomorrow, telling you that she didn't want to hurt your feelings by taking away something or sending you to the corner, but you just need to learn some manners and how to handle yourself.

If you're fussy in terms of only liking clothes of a certain colour, food cut or made in a certain way, or things being done in a particular order, she absolutely doesn't mind doing these things for you! When it comes to cooking Rogue tends to ask for Gambit's help, she's not the worst cook in the world, but she can't do it like Remy can.

When it comes to removing parts of food, maybe you like to remove the crusts of bread and have them separate or not at all, she'll happily cut them off for you and maybe even eat the crusts while talking to you.

Sometimes she matches clothes with you! After all, 'If you like these clothes, they must be the best ones they got!' She says with a grin.

ORORO MUNROE / STORM

'My child, it's important to remember your manners when speaking to those around you. I am not angry, but you must tell me what is wrong if I am to correct my mistake or you are able to grow.'

The moment she notices you starting to throw a tantrum, which is fairly fast even if your signs are just a deep frown, asking you if everythings alright and most of the time avoiding any tantrums before they begin.

However, sometimes you refuse to tell her what's wrong, perhaps you go straight to throwing toys or food, pouting, yelling, in replying she will simply hold a gentle hand on your shoulder and kindly repeat her question on what the matter is. Her tone is gentle and her face is one of genuine concern.

Like Rogue, if you're in distress because of something that's not your fault, or maybe you're just overwhelmed, she will never hold it against you at all. If you're comfortable with it and it's something you need to calm down, Storm will pick you up and give you a tight hug, if not, she's alright with just holding a hand on your shoulder, or even removing her hand and only speaking to you.

Ororo will get on one knee, bending down to speak to you in a hushed whisper, she'll tell you that it's all okay, that she'll help you and make it better, give you different food, turn off the lights, whatever you need, she can give it to you.

However, if you're just being fussy to perhaps get a reaction out of her, she'll raise her brow in an almost amused action, as if she finds your attempts to be aggravating as cute as a cat nibbling on its owner's hand. If you're throwing a fit just to throw one, she will definitely tell you sternly that you cannot do such things, at least not in her care.

I don't think that Storm is the type to use the corner or naughty step as a punishment, after all, she has her own fear of tight, dark places, you may fear loneliness, or abandonment, she does not wish her own troubles onto a mind like yours.

Instead, she talks to you, more importantly, she'll help you figure out what you did wrong, how to improve next time, and reflect on her own actions to see if the trouble was caused by a mistake on her part. It won't be an in depth conversation, she tends to use stuffed animals as an aid to show you an outsiders perspective.

If you're struggling with saying your words out loud, never fear, she has tons of paper and crayons, or pencils, pen, markers, etc if that's what you prefer, just for you! She keeps them in her room for whenever you regress and want to keep near her when doing so.

Ororo will advise you to draw your feelings, maybe even write a letter if that's more what you're comfortable with. She doesn't mind bad spelling or handwriting, she's quite good at deciphering even the most atrociously unintelligible handwriting.

At most, and only if you've been really bad, she'll lead you to your room, or hers, just to make sure you don't get embarrassed and act out further. Storm will tell you what you did wrong as firmly as she can so that you'll understand. It's only a light scolding though, she never ever raises her voice when you're around unless you need or want her to.

If she ever does raise her voice and it startles or frightens you, she will apologise, regardless of if you've done something wrong or not. It's never her intention to harm you, you've entrusted her to care for you and she will do anything in her power to achieve that goal.

If your fussiness is about certain clothes, textures, toys, etc, she absolutely doesn't mind exclusively getting you certain clothes or toys, and she won't be angry at all if you throw a tantrum over texture or taste, because she's fully aware it can be distressing to have an unfavourable texture of clothing of food.

Ororo will always ask questions about something before she gets it for you, after a while she knows pretty much all of your likes and dislikes.

She's a great cook and can switch the taste or texture in something with just a flick of her wrist, something she doesn't mind doing, especially if the food she's already making is something that causes a lot of stress.

[miintsprigz]

Hi again!! Was wonderin if ya could do some hcs of Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engi, and Medic with a reader who loves to give and show them drawings they made, but gets pretty nervous when they watch them draw? If this isn't exactly yer cuppa tea or you just genuinely do not know how to write this, feel free to just ignore this request:]

Hope you have an excellent day/night/evening/afternoon/noon!!>:DD

Ah, I think I recognize you there! Good to hear from you again. I’ll give it a shot!

GN! Shy Artist Reader x Mercs

Characters: Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engineer, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: None

Scout ⚾️

• The two of you tend to draw while you hang out, just chatting in the meantime.

• He absolutely adored your work, and loved watching you make it.

• But when you pulled your sketchbook to your chest quick, he seemed confused.

• “Hey! You good?” “Yeah, I uh…I just feel weird when you’re watching me draw.” “Huh? You don’t gotta feel embarrassed, doll!”

• “…You know when you tried to pull off a jump while Spy and Demo were watching the other day…” At this reminder, Scout gave you a teasing scowl—not genuinely mad, just embarrassed remembering that.

• “Ah geez—yeah, if they hadn’t spooked me by starin’ at me like a buncha creeps—oh.” “You get it now?”

• He got…a little confused. “Am I makin’ it worse? Aw man, I’m sorry—” “No, no! I just—that awkwardness? Yeah.” “Ohhh, I think I gotcha…”

•Scout, uh, scooted over on the bed a little and eventually sat back down with his back against yours. “There. This’ll fix it!” Both of you erupted into laughter.

•In all seriousness though, he respected your wishes. He keeps everything you make for him in his room, aside from a small doodle or two that he carries on him to work at all times…awww.

Pyro 🔥

•You and Pyro lay sprawled on the floor, with a can of colored pencils and a box of crayons respectively.

•They’re actually quite good when it comes to color, pairing different hues together. It’s hard to tell exactly what they’re drawing, but sometimes you can faintly make it out.

•You suddenly felt eyes very intently locked onto you and jerked your head up.

• “Hm??”, came through the mask, muffled. “Uh…could you um…”

•They did that curious little head tilt, tenderly reaching for your hand. If you needed to tell them something, they wanted to make sure they heard it!

• “I feel nervous when you watch me draw. I know it’s silly, but—” “Ah!” Genuine surprise from the masked figure. They’d had no idea.

•Immediately, there were muffled apologies from under the mask, quickly hugging you. “Hey hey, it’s okay! I’m not mad. I just figured I should tell you. You’re okay, Py.”

• “Mmph?” “Yes, dear. I promise.” Giggling a little now, they pulled their free hand over the eyeholes of the mask like a visor, blocking you from view. You chuckled along with them.

•Later on, as the two of you shared drawings, you made out a familiar visage—that of you, with a couple bright red hearts drawn nearby. “Hehe, I love you too.”

Sniper 🏹

• Mick didn’t often watch you draw, honestly. The two of you tended to do your own thing in the same space, talking occasionally. Even that was enough.

• Once you caught him watching on what was kind of an off day though. You kind of just stared back up at him.

• Sniper cocked an eyebrow. “Why’d ya stop?” Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked off to the side.

• You felt the bed next to you sink down a little as he moved closer. “Hey. Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say?” His voice was softer, more cautious. “…cuz ya know, I’d like to hear that.”

• Shuffling a bit to get more comfortable next to him, you sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but…I feel weird when people watch me draw.” “Yeah?”

• You nodded. “Kinda see what ya mean, I guess. Ya think they’ll judge the work-in-progress?” You silently agreed.

• A slight smile brightened his features. “Well, dunno if it helps, but I know a lil better, love.” His shoulder brushed against yours as you moved a bit closer.

• “I love everythin’ you make. And I know that you know what yer doin. But…if you’re more comfortable with me not lookin’, I get that too. That’s fine.”

• He went to move away, but you quickly clasped his shoulder softly, indicating that he could stay. “Maybe, I could try to keep going?” A laugh broke through as you admitted, “Besides, I like sitting next to you.”

• Humming contently, the Aussie planted the briefest of kisses on the top of your head. “Arright, darlin. You just lemme know.”

• As you kept working on that page, you did notice when he was watching, and it wasn’t easy, but after that he would have periods of staring off into space instead.

• There was a conciseness to it. He’d taken what you’d said to heart. Still, though, he seemed happy…and you were, too.

Engineer 🔧

• Dell had gathered quite a collection of your art by now, kept it on the wall of his workshop. He showed it off proudly to anyone who happened to enter, even if visitors tended to be few and far between.

• One night, you kept him company as he worked overtime on a new design for a model. While he worked, you did too.

• After a while though, you could tell someone was looking at you. As your gaze lifted, you caught him sneaking a peek from his desk, right next to the table where you sat.

• “Aw, did I break yer focus there? Sorry, honey.” “No no, it’s okay, Engie…I could put it away for now anyway, if you want something—”

• “No problem, (Y/N)! You can keep right on with that if ya like.” A somewhat sheepish smile came to your face.

“Hey, Engie…can you keep a secret?”

• “Mmm?” “…I get sorta nervous when people watch me draw.” A knowing sort of smile slowly crossed the Texan’s face, sliding his goggles up to rest on his forehead for a moment.

• “You wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

A nostalgic sort of thoughtfulness crept into his voice. “I used ta be the same way.”

• “Really?” You never pictured the mellow, easygoing Engineer to ever be self-conscious in that way.

“Yup.”

• “People would ask me all sorts a’ questions while they watched me build. ‘How ya gonna make that work?’ ‘What’s that do?’ ‘Why’d ya put that there?’ Drove me crazy. Part of the reason I got a shop, I s’pose.”

• He held a spare nut and bolt, twisting them together and apart as he talked, somewhat absentmindedly. Eyes wandering a bit, but always making their way back to you.

• “But here’s somethin’ I think you oughta hear, although I’d never try ta make ya change. Your work is yours, darlin’. Yours and yours alone. Ya make such beautiful things. I’m not askin’ myself what you’re doin’ when I watch, cuz I already know.”

• He put the fidget aside and reached for your hand with a sweet smile. “Why do you like to watch me work?”

• You could feel your face redden just a bit, and grinned at the floor for a moment. He chuckled at this, in a lighthearted way though. “Cuz it’s really cool how you make everything work, and how smart you are with your designs.”

• “Yep. That’s why I like watchin’ you work. Own the process, (Y/N). It’s all yours. You know exactly what you’re doin.”

• “Thanks, Dell.” “Of course, honey. Of course.” From that moment onward, it seemed like he tried not to watch for too long, but when he did, you remembered his words. And it didn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking then.

Medic 💉

• Medic absolutely loved to watch you draw. It was fascinating to him. Seeing how giddy he got, it took you a while to work up the guts to tell him.

• “Is something wrong, Liebe? You’ve been stopped for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh…Medic, I wanna tell you something, but it’s weird.”

“Oh?”

• “I uh…I feel kinda…nervous, I guess? When people watch me draw.”

“…might I ask why?” He seems genuinely perplexed by this. “I think it’s fascinating.”

• Yeah, yeah he would. You weren’t sure how to explain this to him—you knew for sure that he didn’t mind when people watched him at work, he operated on fully conscious people!

• You sighed softly, unsure of how to make this make sense to him. A hand rested on your shoulder for a moment. “(Y/N), I can see this means a lot to you. And as much as I love watching you at work…I love you even more. So I’ll stop doing that.”

A smile crept up on you, glancing back up at him.

“I appreciate it a lot, love. Sorry I can’t put it into words.”

“No need to be sorry! But…I do have one request.”

“Yeah?”

• A sheepish sort of smile came to the doctor’s face. “I can…still see the finished product, right? And maybe, instead of me watching, you could tell me how you put everything together?”

“Of course! No problem.”

“Ah, wunderbar!”

I’ve been very tired lately so I’m sorry this took me so long, and that it’s sorta short/repetitive. I appreciate your patience!

[pekoeboo]

just somethin silly I had sitting in my WIP folder for a while now. couldn't really do what I initially wanted with it, so I eventually just went with this black and white manga look instead :0

love the ducky sweater so much xD so of course I had to draw another chibi 47 to pay homage to one of my fave outfits in Hitman lol

please do not repost. also on deviantart

[archangeldyke-all]

oh, don’t stress if you can’t get to this ask it’s okay!

i was thinking that cowboy sevika would definitely say that “save a horse, ride a cowboy” phrase to her girlfriend. as dumb as it sounds i feel like she would also tell her to “giddy up”, and no matter how many times she tells her to take it off because it “looks stupid”, sevika would keep her cowboy hat on while her gf rides her 😭

her girlfriend would try to be mad at sevika for acting so childish and unserious during it, but would actually be holding back a smile because she loves her sev so much

oh, i absolutely adore this omg

men and minors dni

sevika finds you in the side garden, weeding and pruning. she wolf whistles at the sight of you bent over, and you snap up, glaring at her. she chuckles.

"hey darlin'." she drawls as she approaches you, a horny glint in her eye. you chuckle as she slings arms around your waist.

"what do you want?" you ask, already knowing what your wife's tracked you down for.

"the girls took shimmer out for a ride..." sevika says. you raise an eyebrow at her and she grins. "so we got an hour before we get interrupted by the little shits."

you giggle, flicking at the rim of her cowboy hat, then leaning in to kiss her. she hums against your lips.

"well, whaddya suppose we do with that hour?" you ask, teasingly. sevika grins.

"i was thinkin' i could give you some more ridin' lessons." she suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. you giggle, and then, sevika's dragging you inside, up the stairs, and into your bedroom.

in a flash she's got the both of you naked, sans her strap and cowboy hat. you're perched on her lap where she's sprawled out on the bed, in a tussle with her as you fight to get the hat off her head.

"quit squirmin'!" you complain as you make another grab for the hat. sevika laughs.

"the hat's stayin' on, darlin', what kinda cowboy'd i be without my hat on?" she asks. you roll your eyes and relent, sitting back on her legs with a playful glare.

sevika smacks your ass and you jump. "get to ridin' cowgirl." she says with a smirk. you groan and roll your eyes again.

"you're so fuckin' corny." you groan. nevertheless, you sit up on your knees and guide sevika's strap inside you. you both gasp as it breaches your hole, and sevika shivers as she watches you slowly sink down on it, adjusting to the stretch. you sigh in pleasure.

"feel good?" she asks, her hands drawing circles in your hips. you hum and nod. "fuck, you're sexy." she whispers from beneath you. you huff a laugh and lean down to kiss her.

"wish i could say the same. unfortunately, that stupid fuckin' hat kinda ruins all your sex appeal." you say. sevika snorts, fondling your ass as you slowly start grinding circles against her.

"and yet, you're still ridin' me." she says with a smirk. you roll your eyes.

"wasn't that in our vows? i'll still fuck you when you look ridiclious? somethin' like that?" you ask. sevika laughs and claws you hips.

"somethin' like that." she agrees, grinning up at you.

fuck her for bein' so adorable. you lean forward again to kiss her soundly, sliding your tongue against her lower lip and sitting back up before she can bite it. she pouts at you, but then a goofy smile creeps up her lips.

you already know what she's gonna say before she says it. you shake your head no at her, trying to stop her. "don't say it." you command. sevika just grins and smacks your ass.

"giddy up, cowgirl." she says, grinning at you.

you'd strangle her if her little mischievous laugh wasn't so damn cute.

"i can't believe i ever thought you were serious and scary." you say. sevika giggles beneath you, her thumb fiddling with your clit, making you jolt against her.

"c'mon baby." she whispers, lust taking over her silly mood again. "ride me. 'm all yours."

you sigh, bringing her free hand up to your lips to kiss it, before you start bouncing up and down on her cock.

you both groan.

sevika loves watching you on top of her, and over the years, you've gotten pretty damn good at it.

"i ain't gonna last long, doll." she grunts out. "not with you lookin' so damn good ridin' my cock."

you giggle down at her. "i just started." you say. she grins.

"yeah, but i've been watchin' you in the garden all mornin'." she says. "fuck, you look so good all sweaty and bendin' over." she grunts. you chuckle.

"you're ridiculous." you say. she grins up at you.

"you look so good when you're hard at work." she says.

"you do too." you respond, breathily. she grins.

"yeah? so you do like the hat." she says. you snort, reaching forward to try to knock it off again. she catches your wrist before you can reach her, and you roll your eyes, bringing your hand down to her chest to fondle her tits instead. she whimpers at your touch.

"it's hot when you're all dressed up. with that lasso on your hip, 'n shimmer beneath you, comin' home all sweaty and dirty... fuck." you curse, the mental image of your wife doing something to you. she hums beneath you. you open your eyes to look down at her and burst into giggles. "it ain't as cute when it's all your wearin'." you say. sevika laughs too.

"and yet, you're still ridin' me." she says again.

you lean down to press your lips against hers, shutting her up again.

after a few minutes, you have to pull away to pant for air as you slam your ass down against sevika's thighs over and over again.

"fuck-- i'm close." sevika whimpers. you hum on top of her.

"cum inside me, sev." you whisper in her ear. she groans.

"what about you?" she whines. you chuckle.

"if you take that damn hat off i'll let you go down on me once you're done." you promise her. she grins and nods in agreement, her hands flying down to grip your hips and help you continue to ride her hard and fast, loud smacks filling the room as your sweaty thighs hit the top of hers over and over again.

sevika's face scrunches in pleasure and you tug at her tits, knowing she's close.

"c'mon baby." you moan. "wanna watch you cum."

sevika groans beneath you.

"you're such a fool for this pussy, aren't ya?" you ask. she nods. "y' had me this mornin' before the kids woke up, and it's only high noon now-- you're so fuckin' needy." you tease her. sevika whimpers.

"c-can't help it." she whines. you coo down at her.

"that's okay baby, i love it." you say. "y' know how to make a girl feel special. you're lucky i'm just as needy for you."

she nods up at you, gasping. "s-so lucky." she agrees.

beneath you, her legs start twitching, and you grin.

"give it to me sev." you encourage her, both because you want your wife to cum and also because you're dying to get her out of that hat.

she must know this, because right before her face scrunches up in ecstasy, something mischievous flashes behind her eyes. you know what's coming, nearly a decade with the woman means you can read her like a book. you try to duck down to press your lips to hers before she can speak, but you're too slow, and as sevika tips over into orgasm, she lets out a breathy, giggling, "yeehaw!"

you groan on top of her, a laugh wracking through your body despite your disgust, and you pinch her nipples hard in retaliation as she cums.

she jolts, then grins, coming down from her high to giggle up at you. you snort at her and flick her nose.

"i can't believe you." you mumble. she chuckles.

"you're the one who married me." she says, grinning.

"i'm starting to question my sanity." you say. she laughs.

you pull off her strap and stand on wobbly legs, taking a few deep breaths before you turn around and begin pulling your undergarments back on.

sevika gasps and snaps up to sit on the bed.

"fuck're you doin'?" she asks. "you promised me i could put my mouth on you!" you shake your head at her.

"you ruined the moment!" you say, laughing as you pull your pants on. "you can't expect me to be horny after that, sev. should think before you speak next time." you faux scold her.

sevika blinks at you owlishly. "you aren't serious." she says. you just shrug as you begin buttoning up your shirt. "baby!" she cries, scrambling off the bed to gather you in her arms. "c'mon!" she whines. you giggle.

"'s what you get for bein' a clown." you say. sevika reaches up and grabs her hat, then sends it flying across the room.

"there, the hat's gone now-- will you please come back to bed!?" she asks. you just shake your head no at her, pressing a kiss to her nose.

"no, i don't think i will." you say, before breaking free of her hold around your waist and sauntering away.

you only get down five stairs before sevika comes stumbling after you, her clothes in her arms as she tries to dress herself as she chases after you.

"darlin' wait! i'm sorry!" she calls.

you just roll your eyes and walk back out to the garden.

you'll let her stew in her disappointment for a while. and if she's lucky, maybe she'll get another shot at you tonight.

that is, of course, only if the hat stays firmly planted on the hook in the wall, far away from her reach, right where it belongs.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[antsyandpantsy]

ermmmm gay people or somethin,,,,

also just wanted to list the headcanons bcccccc why tf not:

Ezra (cap 3) is non-binary, demisexual, and doesn’t choose to label their sexuality (They/Them for now)

Berry (8) is pan (that’s rlly all i got for her, at least for now) (She/Her)

also also, my first pride month being out as trans!!!!! it feels rlly nice knowing who the hell I am and even tho I won’t be able to do much this pride month (ig this silly drawing counts), the meaning is very important to me and I’m glad I get to be who I am on this pride month!

happy pride everyone!!!!

[pullhisteeth]

wasteland, baby | eddie munson x reader

summary your friendship with Eddie got complicated when you went to college. you've both been hiding things from each other, and the heat of a summer spent in Hawkins draws out the truth. [4k]

contains 18+ !!! fwb to lovers, fwb!best friend!Eddie, fem!reader, angst, arguing, hurt to comfort, fluff, suggestive content/mentions of smut, mentions of alcohol and weed, tense conversation, miscommunication, and a truckload of yearning. just two idiots in love!

author's note I'm back, baby! with something inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time. enjoy!

-

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl.

-

Resting on your cheeks on your folded forearms, you stretch one leg out behind you. The soft sheets under your stomach ride your top up and you feel the sun lick the backs of your legs and up your back, warm and slightly oppressive. It’s a hot summer in Hawkins, hotter than you remember it ever being before you moved.

There’s also the infrequent brush of hair around your ankles. It tickles, shifting whenever he does, and is joined by the tracing of his fingers behind your knees. You’ve nearly kicked him in the head a couple times from how light his touch is. You know he knows you’re ticklish.

The combination of the pads of his fingers, the brush of his hair, and the heat of his breath on your skin is all too much. You squirm where you’re laid, turning off your stomach onto your side to lean your head up on one elbow and look down at the foot of the bed.

“Eds?”

He stirs, previously unbothered by your legs moving out of his reach, turning onto his side too. He looks back at you with eyes half-lidded, browned butter irises under his lashes. He hums.

You rub your socked feet together absentmindedly.

“Aren’t you hot?”

“Smokin’, babe,” he drawls, grin lopsided and silly.

You roll your eyes and say, “Funny.”

Kicking one of your feet out slightly, you use your toes to nudge his shirt up. He’s in a longsleeve and jeans and it makes you feel exposed in your vest and shorts.

“It’s, like, eighty degrees out.”

“It is,” he agrees, looking down at your foot as it kicks his stomach lightly. It’s very clear he’s winding you up, the way he always has. And, as ever, you fall straight into his trap, face first, so recklessly no one could accuse you of ever being oblivious.

“Surely you’re overheating in that.”

His eyes come back to yours.

“Hm,” he muses with a look of faux concentration that is broken only by the twitch of a smirk. “Wanna give me a hand cooling down?”

His fingers are back on your leg, two of them walking steps up the curves of your calf, over your knee and up your thigh where his whole hand spreads and squeezes gently. The smirk has broken through.

“I shoulda known,” you groan, turning back on your stomach and rolling your eyes. His hand remains, smoothing over the back of your leg, creeping closer and closer to the hem of your shorts until his fingers brush the denim and slip underneath.

“Honey,” he croons, “you really walked into that one.”

“Can’t we do somethin’ else?” you muse, speaking muffled words into the clammy skin of your arm where you rest your head.

His fingers stop moving, and after a moment he says, “like what?”

Shuffling around to look at him, twisted all weird, top slid even further up, you say, “I dunno. Go out?”

“You want to go out?” he asks as his face contorts into something like disgust.

“Forget it,” you say, sitting up. You shuffle your knees over the sheets and lift one over him, your hands smoothing over his broad shoulders to turn him onto his back. His own hands sit splayed across your bare thighs as you straddle him.

“No,” he breathes. “No, no, I just… Just wasn’t what I was expectin’, is all. Where’d you wanna go?”

You look down at him as you rest your weight on him fully and look him in the eye. He looks back at you with a softness you only catch every so often.

After a beat you say, “the lake?”

You watch as he holds down a laugh, swallowing it just before it breaches into the space between you, and you feel yourself recoil.

“Hey,” he soothes, voice quick and soft. “Hey, sorry, I just… it’s a bit clichéd, but it’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

A giggle claws its way up your throat, threatens to break free so you let it, and he grins in response underneath you. With his hands on your waist he grips you to lift you up and off himself, squeezing a little too hard to push more giggles out of you, tickling you silly ‘til you can’t breathe. You lie on his bed and watch him gather things together - an old towel, and another one; an old bottle of sunscreen; a backpack.

“C’mon then,” he says, holding his hand out to you. You take it and pull yourself up and off the bed, toeing your sneakers on and following him out the door. He throws the bag by your feet as he gets into the van and as he pulls out of Forest Hills, you wind down the window and rest your arm on the sill to feel the breeze through your hair.

It’s funny, Eddie thinks, how you’ve barely changed in five years. Of course, you have changed, because you’re 22 now, not 18 like you were when you left, and you’ve grown, and your hair’s longer than it was when you met, and he’s sure he’s changed, too. But here, with your head leant out his window, your hair going wild in the wind, you are the same girl he met under the bleachers in freshman year.

Under the dappled canopy of oak trees, Eddie takes a left turn off the road and onto a gravel path. It’s well-trodden, the dry ground smoothed over by teenagers’ cheap cars coming and going all summer, so the drive is easy until you pass the usual spot. He keeps going, driving past the shoreline where a bunch of kids younger than you are lounging, swimming, basking in the heat.

The road turns dirty here, kicking a cloud of dust up behind the van as you go. You wind the window up and sit with your head resting against the seat, turning it so you can look at your driver.

Eddie Munson is a notoriously dark individual. You love him dearly, perhaps more than you care to admit to him, but he really does a good job of living up to his reputation, with his jeans and chains and that hair.

Here, in the brief flashes of sunlight coming through the leaves as the van slows, you see the way his skin’s kissed golden by the sun. The rings on his hand, where it sits on the gearstick by your left knee, shine in the light and look strangely pale against his usually alabaster skin. You realise, for the first time since you came back for summer, that he’s actually grown up a lot in the time you’ve been away. His skin’s rougher but it still looks as soft as it feels under the sunny glow; he’s rougher, too, eyes harder and jaw firmer. You let your eyes dance over him, up his forearm where he’s pulled his sleeves up, across the ink dotted there, and onto his face.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” he asks, voice soft. You hadn’t noticed the familiar smirk, distracted by the way his hair looks in the sun, so you just scoff and roll your eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you spit playfully, forcing down a smile. 

“Hey,” he whines, false with pain, hand over heart. You just laugh at him, looking away and out of the window as he pulls to a stop at the side of the dirt track.

It’s quieter here. In fact, there’s no one else around. He’s driven to the northernmost part of the lake, past the most popular beaches, up to one that would barely qualify as a beach. It’s a stretch of sandy pebbles and long, flat slabs of stone resting under tall trees, and it’s too far from town to attract any screaming teenagers.

You hop out of the van and stretch, arms above your head, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face. You hear him creep behind you, readying yourself for some kind of assault, his fingers in your side or arms around your waist to pick you up off the floor, but you feel nothing. Instead you listen as he takes the bag from the footwell of your seat and closes the door, and then hear his footsteps as they disappear behind you, down towards the water.

Something inside you is disappointed. You’re not sure why.

You follow him, eyes adjusting to the high sun, shielded by your hand at your brow. It really is quiet up here, you think as you step off the track and onto the stoney shore.

Eddie stops halfway to the water. It’s the middle of the afternoon, the sun is moving across the sky slowly, and so he appears to stop where the shade of the trees ends.

Out of the bag he pulls the two towels and you realise he’s carrying a blanket too. One of the ones you recognise out of the back of his van; one you’ve laid on too many times.

“Seriously, what are you looking at?” he asks without even looking up from where he’s wrestling the blanket, as though your eyes have lasers, burning deep, hot holes in the crown of his head. “Would you come over here and give me a hand instead of gawking at me?”

A fire spreads under your cheeks, fueled by embarrassment.

“Dunno,” you mumble, stepping over to hold down the corners closest to you. “‘S’weird seeing you be all… domestic.”

He stops moving, blanket suspended in his hands, and looks up at you, head tilted up awkwardly.

“Domestic?”

“Yeah, you know,” you stumble. “This is so… so normal.”

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment you’re scared you’ve said something wrong, but he just carries on lying the blanket flat and sits on it, stretching his legs out and resting on his palms behind him.

You feel silly standing beside him, so you sit, legs crossed. For a still moment the two of you take in the heat, listen to the chirps of bugs and birds and the soft lapping of water.

“We used to do shit like this all the time,” you finally say. The thought had been swirling around your head in the silence and slipped out of your mouth almost without you noticing.

He turns to look at you. You daren’t look back.

“Yeah,” he says, looking straight ahead again. “But you left.”

The words come out clunky and uncomfortable. You hear the trepidation in their disjointed sound, like he was trying to swallow them as they came out.

You’re not sure what to say. He’s right, of course; you were inseparable, best friends for four years, and then you went to college and rarely looked back, save for the holidays.

“It’s shit,” he continues. He still sounds hesitant, but Eddie has a tendency to speak even when he shouldn’t.

If he notices the way you squirm at his words, he doesn’t show it.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” you murmur, too scared to move too much in case you do something that hurts him even more than you already have. Somewhere down the line, you sensed that this would come one day. It was only a matter of time until he finally let you go.

“It’s hard,” you continue, fiddling with your shoelace, “keeping up friendships when I’m so far away.”

“We’re not friends, though.”

This makes you look at him. Your eyes snap to the side of his face, vision tinged red at the edges.

“What?” you bite.

“We’re not friends,” he repeats, still looking out over the water.

“Since when?”

“Since you came home that first Christmas.”

Your muscles ease and your eyes close as he says this and you realise where he’s going. You know what he means, the final weeks of 1986 fizzing behind your eyelids like old reels of film. A kiss spurred by booze and weed, hands over jeans and bare skin, the heat of his bedroom in the depths of December.

“Friends don’t fuck,” he says bluntly.

“Sometimes they do,” you retort, opening your eyes. You’re not sure why you’re pushing this, and you hate yourself for making it more difficult than it needs to be.

“No,” he sighs, taking his weight off his hands and sitting upright. “They don’t.”

A stiff silence sits between the two of you like a brick wall. Neither of you speak for a while. You’re not sure what’s going on in his head, but you’re terrified.

“Sometimes,” he begins, startling you, “when you call, it feels like something inside me’s on fire or somethin’.”

This stuns you silent. What on earth is he talking about?

“I don’t know what it is. I really hated you after you went back that first time and didn’t call for weeks, but then you did call and I didn’t hate you anymore, which made me so mad.”

Though your eyes are trained on a rogue stone that has made it onto the blanket by his knee, you can see the way his face contorts as he speaks in your peripheral vision.

“We’re not friends,” he says again, “because friends don’t do what you do.”

Again, you say nothing, breathing too heavy, throat like a snare.

You hear him breathe deeply again.

“Every time you come home I think it’s gonna finally mean somethin’, but you always leave.”

“Eds, I-”

“I know I encourage it, but, like… I guess you get my hopes up.”

There’s a heat blazing under your skin now. It’s everywhere, clawing up your arms and legs, scratching at the expanse of your back and up your neck.

Again, Eddie’s words seem to stall somewhere in his throat, like he’s saying them against his will.

“Friends don’t… They don’t hold hands, or kiss while they cook dinner together, or- or feel like this.”

He sighs, shoulders dipping, and it’s then you see he’s sweating. From the heat or from anxiety you can’t tell, but it’s there, seeping slowly through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

With those words, something inside you cracks. A chasm opens, splits something deep within.

“What do you mean?”

You’re not sure if the words come out this way, but it feels like you’re pleading, like you’re on your knees for him, begging.

“This,” he repeats impatiently, gesturing between the two of you, never meeting your eye. “Waiting for you to come home so we can fuck for three weeks and then having my heart broken again every time you leave and don’t call.”

You draw in a crackling breath of hot air and wonder if this is what suffocating feels like.

“Eddie,” you whine, “this isnt- you can’t…”

“Why can’t I?” he snaps, and the sharpness hits you like a whip. He finally looks you in the eye and you find a familiar pleading sorrow on his face. “If you can leave every time, why can’t I do it once?”

“I thought that was all you wanted,” you say in a whisper, scared of his sharp edge. “I never… I thought all you wanted was to fuck.”

You spit the final word, failing to hide the disgust in your voice. The lake feels miles away, the incessant buzzing of flies oppressive and cruel, the shifting sun lapping at your skin like an open flame. There’s no shade to hide under now.

“I just… I always thought I was just another girl, or just another fuck,” you admit spitefully.

“What the fuck gave you that impression?” he bites back, making you flinch.

“I dunno, I just… I dunno.”

“And I’m not just another guy? Just another fuck?”

“No!” you shout, too loudly for the stillness of the lake. A bird nearby takes flight.

“So you’re tellin’ me you’re not out fuckin’ guys at college?” he asks bitterly, eyeing you. “Seriously?”

“No,” you sigh, grateful for the sense of relief being honest has granted you. “No, Eds, it’s only you. Only ever been you.”

You watch as he eases, rolling his shoulders, leaning back on his hands again.

“Well, shit,” he whispers.

You breathe an awkward, stilted laugh, looking out over the water again.

“I guess… I guess the distance made it worse,” you say, riding the honesty wave.

“What?” he asks, looking up at you again.

“How I felt - feel - about you. I didn’t call because it was too painful, I couldn’t cope with how far away you were. Or any of you, Robin, Steve, Nance… I didn’t eat for weeks.”

“You never-”

“I know I never told you. I’d been so set on college, and on leaving Hawkins, I couldn’t bear to admit I actually missed it. It was just easier to cut it off.”

“So,” he says with brows furrowed in confusion, “why did this happen every time you came home?”

“The first time was an accident,” you say, laughing awkwardly again. “I’d spent three months trying to get over you and then I went back after Christmas and you were all I could think about again, and then coming home was all I thought about, too, and then I figured the distance would make it impossible so I guess I took what I could get and-”

“Wait, wait. Get over me?” He repeats your words with bewilderment.

“Yeah, Eds,” you laugh, lighter this time. “I’m surprised it wasn’t, like, painfully obvious.”

He just continues to look at you with that bemused twist of his face.

“It’s such a cliché! A crush on your best friend, and all the mags say it never works out, and it was easier to just try to forget about you, but then…”

“Tammy’s party.” He says it like it’s a profound realisation, like it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

Tammy’s party. There’d been loud music and loads of beer, and you’d come home from college a little more confident and dressed a little more grown up, and Eddie had pulled you into a room to smoke a joint and before you knew it you were in your underwear in Tammy’s guest bedroom, laid underneath your also-naked best friend, kissing him silly with your hands all over him.

“Yeah.”

“Christ,” he sighs, throwing his head back with his eyes closed.

“I guess you were right,” you say, looking back at the water. “Friends don’t act like we do.”

He hums and sits back upright, reaching over his head to pull his shirt off. And then he stands, shirt discarded, and begins to unzip his jeans.

“Eddie, seriously, you cannot want to do this right now.”

“Wha- What? No, Jesus, what is wrong with you…”

“What are you doing then?!”

“Going swimming! It’s fucking hot.”

He pulls his sneakers and socks off, shimmies out of his jeans, his pale legs damn near sparkling in the sun, and kicks them at you. You catch them, groaning, and fold them before putting them down and begin taking your own clothes off. Once you’re down to your bra and pants you stand and run, following him to the water where he stands, looking like an idiot in his underwear, knee-deep in the lake.

“You know,” he starts, reaching out to take your hands as you enter the water slowly, “I was waiting for the day you never came back.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you respond, the grizzly heat suspended by the sensation of the water around your calves. The two of you wade deeper until you can just about stand, heads and shoulders above the surface.

“Why would you want me?” He brings a wet hand to your face, moving your hair behind your ear and holding you there.

“Jesus, Eddie, this is so cheesy.”

“Hey,” he chastises, playful tone reemerging, “don’t ruin the mood.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” you ask, laughing.

“‘Cos I’m me.”

There’s a sorrow somewhere in those words that pulls you in.

“Eddie,” you say, holding his hand on your face with your own, “exactly.”

He smiles.

“Y’know I said… When you call, and I get that, like, fiery feeling?”

You hum in acknowledgement, thumb smoothing over the back of his hand.

“Christ, okay… Okay.” His eyes are everywhere but on yours. It’s funny, seeing him nervous like this. Eight years of friendship, four of something more, and it could never have prepared you for this version of Eddie.

He’s huffing and suddenly, for the first time since Tammy’s party, kissing him seems unreasonable.

“I- Fuck, I-”

“I love you,” you say first, and the grin that breaks with the admission feels like home.

The wind’s knocked out of you when his arm comes round your middle, movements slowed by the water. He pulls you so your chest hits his as he kisses the words from your mouth. 

You’ve kissed Eddie a thousand times, some in the darkness of his bedroom, some in the pale morning light in his kitchen, and even some in secret at parties or when Wayne wasn’t looking, but this is different.

Rather than a quick kiss, or a breathy attempt at one, this is like a declaration. He’s moving against you like water over stone, smooth and solid. He’s so warm, skin blooming under the sun; you feel it under your fingers where they’re splayed on his shoulder.

He pulls back and breathes loudly before moving his mouth against your cheek and onto your jaw. Into the skin of your neck, he says, “I love you.”

You can’t help but think about how silly the two of you must look, standing shoulder-deep in the lake in your underwear like some kind of baptism. 

You stand like that in the water, faces hidden in a strange kind of embrace, for a while before you move back towards the shore. He follows you out, and when he shakes his damp hair like a dog you copy him. The two of you laugh, bodies bumping, the closeness a comfort now rather than a suffocation.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you lie in the sun, your head in his lap, drying off under the heat.

“Huh?” He looks down at you, his hair like heavy curtains around his face.

“I’m sorry for making you feel so shit.”

“Oh,” he says, drawing shapes on your stomach with the pads of his fingers. “It’s okay. You felt shit, too.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No, but I forgive you.”

“Thanks, Eddie.”

He looks back at the water and as you stare up at him, you think about all the times you came home to the solace of his bedroom. The nights you slept there, wrapped up in one another, feeling him breathe beside you; the times you told yourself you were doing it because it was cold, and he was warm, and that was it. And you think about all the lines crossed, the affectionate glances, thumbs on cheeks and fingers in hair while you watched a movie.

“Eddie?”

He hums and looks back down at you.

It takes you a moment.

“Love you.”

He breaks out in a smile, a wide grin you’ve missed so much.

“Love you too,” he says.

-