#i wanted to see a man that was just so SCRAMBLED

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Sleep nonnie again. Is it okay if I go by 🦊🌲 its easier.

Anyways I think it would be a funny scenario if you suggest to the op boys to keep their hands warm by putting them between your thighs. I know some boys would just get a heart attack if you suggest that and get a cute blush

say whAT NOW?? NONNIE HELLO AND WELCOME BACK!! (dm me so that we can be friends ur fic ideas are so out of pocket i love it); also, gonna add ace cause i see many ace thirsties out there ;)

let me warm you up ft. the monster trio//ace!

luffy:

💗when he agreed to this, he didn't know just what kind of uncharted territory he was entering. he was simply not prepared. you had given him such a soft smile, taking his hands into yours as gingerly, "luff, are you cold?" he had nodded a mindless yes because you were crossing a terribly cold patch of the sea and his hands were freezing. but then held his hand a bit tighter and whispered, "i can warm them up for you. if you like?" he was too drunk on the idea to see the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you spurred him on with your honey-like voice.

💗so now, he sat in front of you, eyes blown wide and lips trembling as his hands rested between your plush thighs. you had squeezed your thighs shut around his restless hands, claiming that it'll get him warm in little to no time. but god, this was hard (much like something else) and he was trying his best to keep his fingers still and not do anything hasty, like digging it into your soft flesh and relishing in the way your body molded to his touches. or by trailing his hand a bit upwards and seeing the way you react. 💗"luffy??" you called out and captain shook his head as he crawled out of that daze like state, "y-yeah?" "you okay?" you mumbled, voice far too gentle. you fucking minx. "you seem like you're losing your mind." good catch! because he was. luffy abruptly pulled his hands backwards lest he do something that truly made him lose his sanity. he scrambled off of your bed, heading out the door into the chilly deck in long, skitterish steps. "where ya going?" you called after him but he rushed out, yelling after himself, "JUST GONNA WARM UP WITH USSOP INSTEAD BYE" did ussop have better thighs than you? you may never know.

zoro:

💚zoro was very stupid, very. he was not the smartest tool in the shed when it came to love or crushes or dating or cooking food or social cues or emotional intelligence or— i should stop before this turns into zoro slander [i promise i love him]. but now, the bounty hunter sat with his face flushed and hands tucked between your soft, malleable thighs. he was smarter than this, truly. he knew that when you suggested that he looked cold and you can warm him up, he was supposed to say "fuck no, get out." because having a crush on you was embarrassing enough on it's own. but you had given him such a gut-wrenching, pleading look. your eyes saddened and your lips fell into a pout and oh god, what was he, if not the man who would let you ruin him? 💚ever since he was a child, zoro had always known that he would die a noble swordman's death. he would die fighting, brave, courageous, unafraid. now, he was sure he'd die from the way you squirmed and pressed your thighs shut. "quit movin'" he grunted, looking away from you as your stared at him. but you tucked your arms against your chest and the soft swell of your tits fell forward towards him so deliciously. he must have lost focus and let his gaze travel against your body cause you coughed, drawing his attention back to your face, "quit starin'." he pulled his hands back, ears going red and heart faltering. he should really stop before he gave into the temptations and pinned you to the mattress to— his voice pitched up, "i-i'm going back to my room, bye." "zoro?!" you called after the swordsman as he ran out, "BUT THIS IS YOUR ROOM, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??" [spoiler: he went to chopper and crushed herbs to make medicine. he wanted to get rid of some of that tension but he failed. because he put the pressure too hard and the china dish in which he was crushing the leafy herbs broke, and now chopper was hitting him square in his head, talking about how important it was to be precise in medicine and how zoro will never make a good doctor. "stop hitting me— OW" "what KIND OF A DOCTOR ARE YOU?" "IM A SWORDSMAN!" "YEAH CAUSE YOU CANNOT BE A DOCTOR!"]

sanji:

💙breath in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out. breath in, breath out— "sanji?" you asked, a tinge of worry at his almost fainting figure, "are you okay?!" "my love, darling, sugar pie—" the man caught his tongue between his teeth, trying to stop his head from spinning. the floor seem to sway under him, the lights seemed too bright. was he flying or was it the blood rush?? "what did you just ask me?" you look down at the kitchen floor, mumbling with a bashful smile, "if your hands are cold...i can warm them up." his heart quickened as did his fingers. he chopped the bell pepper so hastily that you were sure you saw sparks flying. "and how would you do that?" "you can keep them between my thighs, if you like?" you looked up, "OH MY GOD SANJI YOUR NOSE—" 💙i hate to cut the story short but sanji 100% fainted and you had to catch him before he fell face-forward into the pot with boiling water on the stove. sorry, he gets no bitches :( but you did look after him on the bedside and let him eventually touch your thighs so... idk, a win is a win!!! ["so, is he like dead?" zoro had asked, uninterested, as you hauled the cook's figure outside the kitchen. you were dragging him to his room as the rest of the crew trailed you. they had heard your shriek and came spilling into the kitchen to see what the fuss was about. "did you give him a hug?" nami asked, amused. "hug's too much." ussop snickered, "she probably smiled at him." sanji whipped his head dangerously to glare at them, "i can hear you. and i will be poisoning your food." he looked back at you, "oh don't you worry, im still fainted." he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. you smiled to yourself, making a note to warm him up later]

ace:

🧡truthfully, how do you ask a man made of literal fire if you can "warm him up"??? you must have not thought you plan through because you had stood in his room a bit tipsy, locked the door behind you and asked a boy [who was always shirtless cause he was so warm] that question. "huh?" ace's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. he stood up to walk towards you, "what is that about? you wanna warm me up?" "NO!" you bit your cheek when you realized the implications of your words, "i was joking, obviously." "awh, i do love when you humor me." he quipped, "it's kinda cute." "shut up." you glared at him but he gave you an earnest smile back, "if you're cold, you could have just told me." he set his finger ablaze, acting suave, "see, i can warm you up." "you wanna set me on fire?" you seethed. "no?!" "why did you light your fingers on fire?!" "YOU ASKED A MAN MADE OF FIRE IF YOU CAN WARM HIM UP? DONT ASK ME QUESTIONS?!" "i'm drunk" you mumbled. after a beat you looked down at the floor, "and... i'm kinda cold." portagas d. ace just smiled, shrugging in mock nonchalance, "we can cuddle, if you like. i've been told i'm a pretty great heater." you laughed, "hah, hotshot." ace gave you a wicked grin, "how drunk are you?" "not nearly enough." just saying, portagas d ace was better than just a "pretty great heater." he was a pretty great fu-

a/n: i love writing stupid things so much. it makes me so happy because i'm a stupid little girl giggling and typing on her laptop when she should be doing work. tagging the ever lovelies: @bokutosbiceps (resident luffy enjoyer) and @help-i-lost-my-sock (resident ace enjoyer). if you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know (//tell me your preferences and i'd tag you in those fics)!

#anon: 🦊🌲 #one piece #op #opla #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d luffy #one piece zoro #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #zoro fluff #sanji fluff #luffy fluff #ace #one piece ace #portagas d. ace #ace fluff #one piece fluff #op fluff #ace x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff

[jqnehr]

i told my mum about dr ratio and she called him a cad. so i wrote a drabble about it.

“I told my mother about you,” you say, quietly watching Ratio work away at the papers he was marking. You watch as he circles a big, fat ‘0’ in red in the top right hand corner of the paper, before putting it aside. He looked up at you. “And what did she say?”

You pause, dropping your gaze to the table top, unsure of how to go about this. "...She called you a cad."

Silence. No scribbling pen, not even a sound of an inhale or exhale from the man sitting in front of you. The table top is the most interesting thing you've ever laid eyes on right now. Ratio is so still, you'd think he'd have turned into one of those sculptures he made and taunted enemies with.

"...We...I haven't even...met her." For the first time in all the years you've known the man, he's utterly unable to formulate a single coherent sentence. Looking up, you see him staring at you wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and he looks devastated. "What did you say?"

"I—! Nothing! Nothing incriminating! I just told her that your life's purpose is eradicating idiocy and that you..."

Okay, I did kind of tell her that you're massively self-assured and that you walk around with an alabaster mask on all the time. But you don't want to break his heart too much. And that I hated you so much I love you.

His eyes narrow into slits. "Let me guess. You told her I throw chalk at people."

The ceiling fan's patterned movement is suddenly very fascinating.

"Aeons, woman, are you trying to get your mother to break us up?" Ratio drops his pen and stands, his hands on his hips. "I can't believe it! You probably made me sound like some lunatic that impales his students with sticks of chalk when they get a question wrong!"

"You..." kind of do. But pointing that out probably wouldn't be wise. Fumbling for something to say, you come out with, "I just told her that you need to be humbled! And that I'm...in the process of humbling you! Nothing too bad."

He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation. "Darling, please don't tell me you told her I drop a pillar on my opponent when I'm in a battle."

"I..." Yes, I did. You probably should've kept your mouth shut. And then your mother exclaimed, 'so he murders people!' and you had to scramble to explain that he kills aliens and such, not people. She didn't have a bar of it.

"Wonderful! Now she thinks I go around crushing people with columns for fun!" You had a feeling Ratio's reaction wouldn't be good. But not this bad.

"It's okay, maybe you two can meet and you'll put on your best behaviour and won't call her an idiot." You get to your feet and pat his arm comfortingly. "Treat her with respect, and she'll like you."

He actually looks like he's about to cry. "It's hopeless. Your mother probably hates me now. She called me a cad! A cad! All because you told her I hate idiocy."

"You're not going to...leave me for this, right?" Your voice is small, and you're suddenly very afraid that you really took it too far. "I'm sorry..."

"No! I'm leaving you over this. I just...need to think of a way to convince her that I don't run around stabbing people with chalk." The papers he was marking are now forgotten and he begins pacing. "What does she like? Cookies? Macarons? Apple pie?"

"My mother likes wine and cheesecake," you respond, watching him walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in quite the tizz. "White wine. Likes champagne, too. Um...and she loves chocolate. She'll force you to marry me if you give her chocolate."

"Perfect! Well, then, ask your mother if she is alright with meeting me, and I'll come along with gifts of champagne, cheesecake and chocolate. How about it?"

Good thing my father wasn't in the room when I smack-talked Ratio to her. It would've been much, much worse. "Uh, yeah, alright. Just beware, though, you're going to have to woo my father, as well."

Ratio gave a long-suffering sigh. "What does he like?"

And suddenly the Doctor of Idiots was running around collecting all these gifts for your parents. Perhaps it did work out for the better, since now you're sure he's desperate to stay with you.

#hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #star rail #honkai star rail dr ratio #dr ratio hsr #is this a self-insert? nah not really #but yes everything i wrote about my mother is real #i love her so much #she's so iconic omg #and wow 2 fics in one day im on a ROLL #and yes that dr ratio longfic is coming along. just wait a bit longer the chapter planning is almost done <3

[rafeandonlyrafe]

barrys girl

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, protected sex (yayyy!), open relationship, barrys girlfriend!reader, curvy!reader, mentions of drugs and guns, mention of possible/future threesome

“come on, bears.” you coo, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders as you call him by your favorite nickname. “you should go easy on him.”

“and why should i do that princess?” barry looks up to you, away from the scared teen shivering on the opposite couch.

“he's cute.” you coo, smiling at rafe, and then back at barry. “pleeease, bears.”

“fine.” he growls out. he doesn't mind your open relationship, it allows him to sleep around too, knowing he always has you to come back home to. the only time he doesn't appreciate it is when it gets in the way of his business deals.

“you're the best.” you press your lips against barrys, giving him a passionate kiss, putting on a full display for rafe, still worried about the money he owes, but now confused as well.

“come on.” you say, and it takes rafe a second to realize you're talking to him.

“what's going on?” he asks, long eyelashes fluttering.

“barry is gonna forgive what you owe as long as you fuck me. that is, if you want to fuck me?”

rafe looks you up and down. despite being confident with women, he can admit when someone is out of his league, and just by the way your shorts cling to your ass, he knows this is a rare opportunity.

“of course i want to.” he jumps up, knees bumping into the coffee table, making the glasses rattle.

“well thank barry then come on.” you walk into the bedroom, waiting for rafe to follow.

“isn't that your girlfriend?” rafe whispers, keeping his voice down in case you hear.

“yeah. so fuck her good, man.” barry waves him away, ready to move onto other business now that rafe is taken care of.

“thanks.” rafe says, quickly moving into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. he takes a deep breath of relief for not having to explain yet again why he can't pay barry back.

“all good sugar?” you ask, southern accent barely licking the edges of your words, just enough to tell rafe you're not exactly from these parts.

“yeah-” rafes eyes focus, and there you are, on the bed completely naked, large tits and thick thighs all on display for him to see.

“don't be shy.” you smile softly. rafe takes a minute to admire the gorgeous features of your face, your dark eyebrows and full, rosy lips, before his eyes move lower, catching on where your legs meet.

“you gonna fuck me or what?” you spread your legs, and rafe swears he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, bare, pink, and juicy wet for him.

rafe is aware of your eyes on him as he quickly undresses, wishing he would have worked out this morning just to have even more muscles on show for you.

by the time rafe pushes his underwear down his thighs, he's already hard.

you smile approvingly at his cock before tossing a condom at him. barry is the only one who gets you raw, and same with him with other girls, it's just the code you agreed upon.

rafe slides the rubber over himself, moving over to kneel on the bed when suddenly barry bursts through the door.

“chill, country club, just gotta grab something.” he laughs when seeing the scared look on rafes face, worried he fell into some sort of trap. barry goes over to the dresser, pulling a gun out and tucking it into the back of his shorts.

“ill be back, baby.” barry now addresses you. “gotta go take care of somethin’.”

“okay, be safe bears. rafey will keep me company until you're back.” 

barry leans over the bed, unfazed by how naked you are, or rafes still hard cock resting against your bare cunt. he presses a kiss against your lips, just like he always does before leaving.

his eyes move down your body, definitely going to have to fuck you when he gets home. “so, that's what you're working with country club.” barry chuckles as rafes hands scramble to cover his cock.

“leave him alone, barry.” you roll your eyes, giving his chest a shove.

“alright, alright.” barry backs out with his hands raised, shutting the door behind him.

“he's just being a dick. still wanna fuck? if you don't i won't make you.” you sit up, placing a hand on rafes shoulder. “and i won't tell barry anything. he'll still forgive whatever you owe.”

“i-i still wanna fuck you.” rafes hands move away and you can see he's even harder after having barry see him. you make a mental note to remember that for later, for the next debt rafe inevitably ensues like all addicts do. 

you nod, flipping over onto your hands and knees. you lower your chest to the bed, presenting your ass to rafe.

his large hands grip your plump bottom, pushing your thighs farther apart to look at your pussy again.

“gonna eat it first?” you giggle, swaying your hips from side to side. “or you just enjoying the view?”

rafe doesn't answer, simply swipes a finger through your folds and brings it to his mouth, moaning when he tastes the wetness on his tongue. he wastes no more time, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in steadily.

“fuck, that's good.” you moan, pressing your face into the mattress to silence your moans as rafe begins to move.

his eyes stay on your ass, watching the way your skin ripples with his every thrust.

“you're so hot.” rafe mumbles, making you laugh against the bedsheets, pushing yourself up to your hands as you begin to move back against rafe, meeting his thrusts.

“fuck, y/n.” you love the way your name sounds on rafes lips as his hands move up to your waist, holding you there by your soft flesh.

“harder.” you moan out. “harder, please.” 

rafe listens instantly, increasing the pace and how deep his thrusts are going, not holding back as he pounds into you.

“yeah, like that!” you moan out, listening to rafes grunts over your shoulder as he fucks you, gaining confidence with every movement.

rafe moves one hand to your ponytail, gripping your curls between his fist as he pulls your head back, making you let out a sensual whine.

“you like that?” rafe questions, hips pumping into you, but it's clear by your moans and the gush of wetness to your pussy that you like the way it feels.

rafe keeps one hand on your waist to keep you pulling back against him, not allowing you to stop or slow down, even as your legs begin to tire.

“gonna-gonna have barry watch next time.” you say, knowing it will only spur rafe on more. “then you can watch him fuck me.”

“yeah?” rafe moves faster, knees digging into the bed. “you like being passed around like a slut? might as well invite all my friends to have a go at you as well.”

“do they also owe barry money?” you joke, letting out a breathy laugh before it turns into a gasp as rafe tugs at your ponytail.

“god, you feel so- fucking warm.” rafe gasps out.

“gonna cum for me?” you question, feeling rafes cock swell inside of you.

“y-yeah.” it only takes a few more thrusts for rafe to cum with a loud moan of your name, pushing his hips as far forward as he can despite the condom blocking him from spilling inside of you.

“fuck.” rafe pulls out, regretting being finished. 

you flip over onto your back, head against the pillows with a soft, sleepy smile on your face. “you were good rafe.”

“i was good?” rafe laughs. “you… your body is incredible.”

you watch as rafe discards of the condom before putting his clothes back on.

“barry will want you to stay until he's back, do you want a snack?” you ask, getting up from the bed, still naked as rafe follows you out of the bedroom.

you eat and chat idly while waiting for your boyfriend to return, rafes eyes occasionally dropping to your tits, or watching your ass when you bend down to pick something up.

“baby, im home!” barry yells, slamming the door shut behind him as he smirks at you, seeing you completely naked and rafe still there with flushed cheeks.

“missed you, bear.” you coo, giving him a kiss that quickly turns passionate as he grips your ass, pulling you against him. by the time you're done kissing your boyfriend and need to pull away for a breath, rafe has already disappeared out of the house.

--

“where have you been dude?” kelce asks as soon as rafe arrives at the country club for their round of golf.

“dude, you'll never believe it. i just hooked up with barrys girlfriend.” rafe watches kelces face as he processes the news.

“wait, like the super thick baddie? i don't believe you, dude.” kelce rolls his eyes.

“whatever, bro.” rafe doesn't need kelce to believe him, not when he got to experience you for himself.

“come on.” rafe calls, grabbing his clubs. “we're already late!”

#guys this is season 1 rafe you have to picture season 1 rafe when reading this thank you #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Consorts [Part 1]

The Ghoul|Cooper Howard x F!Bounty Hunter!Reader

Summary: Months back, the Reader and Cooper got in a huge mess after deciding to work together after finding out they were given the same bounty. Neither has seen each other since. Reader has been laying low in a far off settlement, working a common bar job just to make a living...

a/n: very excited to attempt another multi-part story for the first time in years!! for the record, I have only watched the show through once and I have never played one of the games sooooo sorry for any inaccuracies

~~~

You sat another glass in front of one of your bar dwellers.

It had been months since you even dared go outside this town. You hid your face anytime you were outside the walls of your dwelling. You were forced to lay low after your last bounty went south. Not only had you lost all credibility as a bounty hunter, but a giant target had been attached to your back by the group who you had wronged. There was no where safe for you.

Although your face had to be mostly covered, your job required a certain level of attracting customers. You would make sure to wear something rather revealing of your chest, along with skin tight pants. Making sure you flirted strongly with your eyes to attract more people to the bar.

A group of men who had been sat at a table for sometime all approached the bar at once. You could hear them mumbling something back and forth as glances were shot your way.

"Great," you thought, "Some moron got bet by his friend to hit on me." You rolled your eyes as you cleaned one of the glasses.

"Sweetheart," followed by a whistle.

Your skin crawled. Smug faces met yours when you turned around.

"What's a lady like you doing working in a place like this?" He cocks an eyebrow at you. You huff in response.

"Don't misunderstand now..." a click and suddenly all the men were pointing guns at you, "I want to know why you thought someone worth so much would be hiding in plain sight. We all swore you were smarter than that." You stared down the barrel of his gun.

You sucked your teeth, dropping your head to the side slightly, "Y'all're here for the money? I thought you were going to compliment a lady." Your gun is fired quicker than any of them can register. The man in front of you falls backwards, the others squatting down in fear. You take your opportunity and run out the back exit.

Your mind is playing every possibility of this ending. Gunfire dancing on the ground around you as the men chase you. You end up in the middle of town, firing your gun at them as they are hot on your tail. In a flash, the amount of people after you practically doubles. Your eyes widen as you attempt to find somewhere to hide. You grab a grenade off your belt, throwing it center at them.

While smoke surrounded them, you slid under and behind a large lean-to. You were on all fours, looking through the small crack in the wood. The men were scrambling, firing their guns in any and all directions. A fight was breaking out.

"FIND HER YOU IDIOTS!" One of the men shouted.

You heard more gunfire joining theirs. You knew it had to be some local fighting back. You scanned the area around you, seeing a small pathway that led to a more exposed part of the fort you had hidden in. You crawled, hoping it would lead you out.

"My, my," a familiar voice spoke above you. You looked up to see him staring down at you, his head cocked to the side. "Oh, sweet Jesus," one of your hands rubs down your face. "Longtime no see, doll," he grinned.

The infamous Ghoul. Few knew his name, fewer lived long enough to share it. The two of you had become more than acquainted in a prior mission gone wrong. The one that had left you both on the run.

He reached a hand out to you, pulling you up to your feet. "Didn't expect to see you here," he grumbled. You rolled your eyes, placing your back against his preparing to fireback together. You felt him turn his head slightly, "Y'know, I didn't take you for a brothel girl." Smugness was written on his tone. Your cheeks flooded with a slight embarrassment. He shifted positioning his lips directly next to your ear, "Took you for more of a cowgirl after last time." Heat radiated your body with his obvious innuendo. "People have to do things when they're on the run," you breathe out. He scoffed in your ear.

The Ghoul aimed his gun out, shooting and hitting one of the goons. "I'll get us out of this, but you've got to make a deal with me," he looked down at you. You crossed your arms, "What could you possibly want from me?"

"We're going to finish the mess you got me in," he pointed at you. "That I got you in? That isn't at all-" "I don't have time for this. You either take the deal or I leave you here."

You blew your breath out, "Deal." You gritted your teeth. His lip curved into a smirk, "That's a good girl. Now you stay here and on my signal come out." You nodded.

The Ghoul stepped out from behind the wooden building, whistling to get all the gunmen's attention. You watched as they all directed their attention towards him. Guns all pointed at him before realizing who stood before them.

"There's the other one!"

"That's the Ghoul they're promising a reward for too!"

"We could get double the money!"

The brim of his hat hid his eyes from them.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, ghoul. If you just give us the girl we can be on with our way," one of them shouted.

"So you can come back and get me later? Not gonna happen," he pointed his gun at them, "I'm leaving here with the girl."

The man chuckled, "You're out numbered here."

The Ghoul shrugged his shoulders. He fires his gun at the giant water barrel suspended above the town. It tips over, soaking all the men in radioactive water. The Ghoul swiftly runs back to you, grabbing your hand and running off with you. You were quick on your feet following behind him.

You both run as fast as you can until the town is no longer in the distance. You slow down, attempting to catch your breath. Loud and obvious huffs leaving you.

"C'mon, Y/N. We've gotta keep going before they get smart." He gestured at you to follow him.

~~~

END//Part 1

[Thank you for reading!  If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me!  All tag lists are open!  I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

Tags:

@mortuus-poet | @giggle-shade |

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #fallout #fallout series #walton goggins #writing #fanfic #sexymonsterfics #part 1 #walton goggins x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Savior

Mizu x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: prostitution, attempted SA (not too detailed just implied), Mizu being sexy, he/him pronouns for Mizu

-----------------------------------

You had never met someone with eyes like yours. You wore glasses every day, the world appearing dark and dim because of them. You worked for Madame Kaji; being left on a brothel's doorstep as an infant. She saved you from the cold and raised you. She couldn’t stand to watch you be a prostitute, you were practically her own. So she made you useful in other ways. Fetching things for her, cooking, cleaning, always making sure the girls had whatever they needed. You also managed to learn quite a bit of judo. A necessity as you got older, mens wandering eyes and rough hands attempting to take you more often than you would like to admit. Today was no different, you had gathered all the groceries you had been sent to get. You prepared soup for you and Madame Kaji before she had to go and tend to the clients. You only really got to see her in brief moments like these. 

“Good evening mama.” you smiled sweetly at her as you set her bowl in front of her before giving her cheek a delicate kiss. 

She smiled at you before she started eating, “I want you to be careful today.” she said.

“I’m always careful.” you shrugged.

“No, I mean it.” she said as she forcefully set her spoon down. “We have dangerous company.”

You nodded, not wanting to further vex her. You both ate in silence, content with the atmosphere. You both stood, you going to clean.  Madame Kaji’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could make your swift exit. She pulled you back to her before she tucked your hair behind your ears. She slipped your glasses off, you squinted as you adjusted to the light. 

“Rain child,” she said as she kissed your cheek, “how beautiful you are.” 

You smiled and leaned into her touch. Nobody but her and the other prostitutes knew of your eyes. Everyone in the village assumed you were blind, not caring much in general about some whore mongers bastard child. Even Boss Hamata didn’t want you. You preferred it that way; better to be simple and plain than to attract every twisted glance that held nothing but malcontent. She left the small room. As you cleaned you couldn’t help but wonder what company she spoke of. To be fair, most of the usuals were harmless. But there will always be those who enjoy the pain of others. 

You made your way down the hall; watching Ise shrug her Kimono back on as she walked out of one of the many rooms. She gave you a small smile before walking into the parlor to fetch her next client. You shuffled into the room, starting to clean it before one of the girls needed it. Straightening the table, refilling the sake, wiping the sweat and regret off the floor mats. You knew none of the girls liked this work. But you looked at all of them like sisters, you felt their pain and sorrow. You often snuck them sweets Madame Kaji bought for you two to share. Life could always be a little sweeter, even in a small regard. You were almost finished cleaning when you heard what sounded like someone stumbling into the room. You turned and saw a man. Not a regular, tall and stocky. He swayed slightly, alcohol reeking from him. You bowed as you stepped back, putting space between you.

“You’re a… pretty one.” he hiccuped out as he shut the door behind him.

Your heart started racing, nothing good happens behind closed doors here. He stomped over to you harshly dragging you to the ground. He tried to pin you but you kicked him in the shoulder, sending him back. You scrambled up, almost reaching the door when he pulled you by the edge of your kimono. You fell to the ground, stomach against the floor. He held you down with one hand while the other pulled up your skirts. You sobbed and let out one shriek before he shoved your face into the floor, breaking your glasses in half. Your muffled sobs were all that remained. You heard the door fly open and saw a flash of red splatter the walls, a few drops dotting your face. You froze, shock finally settling in as you realize what almost happened to you. Foreign hands rolled you over deftly, you heard their distant voice and saw them through your tunnel vision. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, blue eyes meeting yours. 

He leaned over top of you, arms on either side of your head. You both gawked at each other until you heard running down the hallway. Madame Kaji and a few other prostitutes rushed in. The scowl on your mothers face horrified you. She shoved the blue eyed stranger off you before raising her hand to strike him.

“How dare you touch them!” she shouted. 

You caught her wrist right before she could make impact, “No mama! It wasn’t him.” you rushed out. 

You looked towards the corpse in the opposite corner which was cut in half. You felt the mystery man's hands gently close your kimono which you hadn’t realized fell open. You blushed at his kindness, his respect. Madame Kaji helped you up, a slight shake in your legs from the fear of it all. She walked you to your room but not before you saw which room the blue eyed man entered. As you waited you couldn’t help but think of his eyes, his gentle yet rough hands. Your mind wandered, wanting to know how his lips felt. You shook your head as you made your way to his room, slipping inside silently. 

The samurai’s eyes immediately found yours, yet he remained silent.

“May I sit?” you asked softly.

He nodded. 

“I wanted to thank you…” you said, “I also wanted… to see…” your thoughts tapered out, embarrassed of what you truly wanted to ask. “Your eyes.”

He held a look you couldn’t place an emotion to, “Sit.” is all he said.

You sat closer than he expected, faces inches apart. You knew this position was unbecoming but you didn’t seem to care. You had only ever seen one other person with different eyes, Yuko the prostitute with green eyes and golden hair. But these were blue, just like yours. You admired them looking at the beautiful samurai overall after a while and not just his eyes. 

Your hand came up to gently cradle his face. You moved on instinct, giving him a chaste kiss before leaning back, “Thank you…”

“Mizu.” he answered after a moment, lips buzzing from the brief yet sweet kiss. 

“Thank you Mizu.” you said before bowing and swiftly exiting the room. 

Your heart raced, and little did you know, so did Mizu’s.

-----------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello! My first Blue Eyed Samurai post! YAYYYYYY! It's been a long time coming given my obsession with the show but better late than never! Thank you for all the likes and comments, super motivating! XOXOXOXOXOXOX

#mizu blue eye samurai #blue eyes #blue eye samurai #writing #mizu #mizu x reader #mizu x you

[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  

A senseless daydream.  

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  

Whatever you wanted. 

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.  

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  

Several.

He thought to himself.  

You could have gone to school, shown up.  

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed.  And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  

“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  

The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  

Be careful what you wish for.  

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  

Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.  

“Eddie?!”  

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“Shh.”  You soothe. 

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  

“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  

“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage.  In his eyes.

“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.”  You demand.

“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”  

It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  

“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.” 

“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  

“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  

“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.

“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  

“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  

“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.”  You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  

“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  

“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  

“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  

“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  

“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  

It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”  

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”  

Eddie just stared. 

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.”  You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  

And he was blushing. 

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 

“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

[theheartofthestar]

Prompt 28 - Dogwalking AU

@wolfstarmicrofic - April 28th, 1284 words

The doorbell rings in the middle of a Saturday, and Padfoot, bless that big silly boy, barks and wags his tail in his better impersonation of a golden retriever.

When Remus picked him up from the shelter, he was told Padfoot was a dog not many people took interest in, big and black as he was, people assumed he'd be aggressive. No matter he was actually a sweet silly puppy at heart, no matter his previous owner had obviously trained him well. In French of all languages, but still, well trained once you got the hang of the right commands.

It was Lily who had called him, almost begging him to take this dog. Padfoot was clearly struggling to adapt to the shelter, needed extra cuddles from the humans, and although he was very friendly, the volunteers could see him getting sadder by the day. So Lily, in her endless wisdom, had called the one friend who also needed some extra company, who also needed those extra cuddles, and who struggled to voice that need. And so Remus had found himself with a lap full of Padfoot and jumpers that would forever be interwoven with black dog hair.

Enough to say it had been some very happy six months so far.

So here they are, cuddling on the sofa, Remus with a cup of tea on one hand and a dark romance novel in the other, something he's reading for the bookclub Mary roped him into. Padfoot lying down mostly on top of him, a happy dog smile on his furry little face as he drools in his sleep. The doorbell rings and Padfoot scrambles up, paws expertly finding and painfully digging in all of Remus' soft places.

"Coming! Just a sec! No, Pads, back, stand back- No, Padfoot, wait, listen you need to let me open the door-" Remus finally manages to push Padfoot out of the way and open the door just a crack. Outside, there are two handsome young men, one big and buff and sporting a pair of glasses that would look nerdy on anyone else but on him just look sexy, and one tall and lean, leather jacket and wide legged pants hugging a tight waist barely visible under a crop top.

Remus immediately can be sure of two things: one, it's been way too long since he got laid if he's thirsting so hard over strangers, and two, this is probably a type of scam, since how else would two people that looked like this ever knock randomly on Remus' door?

"Hi!" The dark skinned one says with a bright smile. Padfoot barks louder, trying to push against Remus' legs.

"No, Pads, please shh- Hello?" Remus answers.

"Is that your dog?" Says the man in leather, hands in his pockets, but head trying to peak behind Remus. Padfoot barks and barks and barks.

"Yeah?" Remus says, and it's almost a question. "Sorry for the noise, if that's the problem, we're usually a lot quieter than this, he's just excit-"

"He's a very handsome dog" interrupts the man, eyes shining.

"...ok" Remus doesn't want to be rude, really, but what ever? He almost closes the door in their faces, he would have, if he wasn't both trying to hold the door and stop Padfoot from pushing it open. "No, Pads, please, what is happening, love? Please shhh"

"I told you it was Padfoot!" Says the one with the glasses, slapping the other man on the back and then coming even closer, to kneel by Remus' door and try to pet Padfoot through the small crack. Padfoot goes berserk at this. "Name's James, this is Sirius-" James nods to the other man, and then his voice shifts to a baby voice "-and this is baby Padfoot, yes you are, yes you are baby boy, who's the bestest boy?"

"How did you, uhm, did you find my address from the shelter?" Remus says, thinking maybe Lily lead them here.

"The shelter? He was in a shelter?" Sirius eyes snap up to Remus' face, searching for something. His eyes are still shining dangerously.

"Oh no, I saw you two walking and I followed you the other day" James says casually, as if that's just the most normal thing to do, follow people home, and then adds, with a wink "I could recognize my nephew anywhere"

Remus finally opens the door, and Padfoot runs out, jumping up and down, around the two men. He then jumps right up onto Sirius chest, huge black dog being held like the most precious thing, and Sirius just starts bawling, right then and there, against Padfoot's fur. The dog licks his face and wags his tail. Remus is moved but also very, very confused.

"I was told he was surrendered" Remus says, doubtfully, after the sobs diminish. "His family couldn't take care of him anymore"

"They told me they killed him" Sirius says, and starts sobbing hard again. James runs a hand up and down his back, looking pained.

"Maybe Reggie took him. He's smart like that, and you always said he loves animals, he probably lied to them" James says, and looks at Remus as if asking for support on this. Remus almost throws his hands up. What can he even say? He doesn't know who this Reggie person is! Hell, he doesn't know who these two men are!

"So" Remus starts, feeling at a loss but also starting to feel slightly annoyed. Whoever these people are, they are clearly the previous owners, but Remus- well, Remus loves this dog, alright? And he's not going to let him go, especially not back to the family that abandoned him in the first place. "I'm sorry, but- you can't take him"

The two men look up at him, Sirius still teary eyed, James tilting his head as if confused.

"You can't take him with you, I mean" Remus says, hoping his voice sounds more confident than he feels. "He's- we live together, now, he's been living here for months, and he was in the shelter a long time too, so I don't think-"

"No, I understand" Sirius interrupts, and Padfoot finally jumps down. Wagging his tail happily, watching all of them with big, happy eyes.

"Sirius-" James starts, voice unsure.

"No, James, that makes sense. This is his home now and I think..." Sirius trails off.

"Remus"

"...I think Remus is right" he finishes, hand on his hips and nodding as if trying to convince himself.

James looks at Sirius with something close to heartbreak in his eyes, Sirius looks at Padfoot adoringly, Padfoot comes to Remus, all silly smiles and happy tail, and Remus says something he had never considered before.

"Maybe you could walk him, sometimes?" Remus says, and when two sets of eyes look up at him, he blushes. "I mean, he will still live here, but if you want... You could take him for walks, or to the dog park"

"Oh! Like joint custody!" James perks up with a bright smile. Remus winces.

"Like dogwalking" Remus corrects, but he sees Sirius' hopeful smile.

"Yeah, I'd- I'd love that, actually."

Remus' heart beats faster when Sirius looks him straight in the eyes. He suddenly has a feeling this will all be too much like co-parenting.

He blushes, and when Sirius says he'll stop by the next day and asks Remus for his favorite coffee order so he can bring some for him, Remus fights the urge to bite his lip like a teenage girl.

He closes the door, and slides down until he's sitting with his back against it, and a lap full of happy, panting Padfoot.

"Oh, Pads, what did we get ourselves into?"

-

You can read more of my work here

#astra writes #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #Padfoot is a good boi #sirius black #Remus Lupin

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 7.1 - personal jesus

Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 1400

☾

Reach out, touch faith

Your own personal Jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares

☾

New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year

…the room was dark. You couldn't tell where you were. A house? A bedroom. A soft blanket underneath you, headlights of a distant car flashing from behind the curtains on the windows.

Though the lights were off and you didn't recognize the room, you were certain of a strong sense of safety. A comfort in the unfamiliarity. Was that the sound of a guitar playing softly? Maybe… somewhere in another room. 

Suddenly, it wasn't car headlights illuminating the dim room anymore. Moonlight poured in through an open window, pale and lucid.

And a figure could be seen stepping towards you from the shadows. You still didn't feel fear. You felt bare and vulnerable, but anticipation took over your senses.

Blurry flashes of silver rings and the smell of cologne… like everything else around you, how you knew the scent was on the tip of your tongue. You knew that smell from somewhere. 

All of the things around you, the smell, the man, the sound of the music. Mysterious in your surreal subconscious. But it also felt like coming home, as natural as whispering the name of someone you loved.

"Hello?"

He stood in front of you, waiting. A hand reached up and touched your chin, silently asking for you to look up at him.

Gripping the blankets behind you, your gaze lifted towards the moonlight and was dazed by brown eyes, a shy smile.

Everything shifted, jolting you quickly. He wasn't standing in the beams of light anymore. No, he was on the bed with you. Underneath you. 

The feeling of his hips between your legs and his hands sliding over your thighs raised goosebumps on your arms.

"Wake up…"

Leaning down, you kissed the man with the wandering hands and shining silver rings. No question about it - in your dreamlike state, you knew this was the only thing you wanted. An instinct.

You grasped for his belt buckle, still kissing him feverishly, lifting his shirt to access his jeans... 

"Hey! Wake the fuck up!"

The transition from a deep, sensual sleep to the embarrassing reality of your bedroom dropped onto you like a bucket of cold water. 

Sun poured in through the windows, much like the moonlight in your dream. And, of course, there was no man in your bed. Only the lovely Robin Buckley standing in your doorway, tapping it obnoxiously and looking at you expectantly.

"Hmm?" you mumbled, dragging the blanket over your head, still not quite awake.

"You looked like an actual corpse lying there. I had to make sure you didn't, like, die in your sleep or something."

You rubbed your sleepy eyes. "I might have just been in heaven."

"What?" Robin asked, nose wrinkling. She shook her head. "You know what? Nevermind. I don't think I want to know."

You sat up and squinted at the girl leaning on your door frame. "So why exactly did you wake me up? Besides to check my pulse?"

"You can't let go of your famous cranky morning attitude for one day? It's New Year's Eve, dingus!"

Oh, fuck. "I totally forgot what day it was. What are the plans, again?"

With the stealth of a ninja, Robin shut the bedroom door behind her so your parents couldn't eavesdrop.

"I thought we had a deal!" she whispered. "You've got plans with Nancy and Carol, right? I need you to tell mom that I'll be with you all night."

Yawning, you finally scrambled out of bed and over to your dresser. In your sock drawer, stuffed inside a rolled up pair of socks, was a crumpled bit of paper.

"Sure, no problem. But I'm not going with Nancy."

Robin snorted. "Should I even bother guessing who you're going to see tonight?"

Still cranky from waking up, you threw back your own prying question. 

"Should I even bother guessing who you're going to see tonight?" you snapped, but instantly regretted the tone of your voice when you saw a flash of hurt in Robin's blue eyes. 

"Look, Robbie, how about we make this easy? No matter where we both end up, let's tell them we were at Carol's with Nancy. Just meet me at our spot half past midnight, yeah?"

"Do you think this will actually work? We've never asked to go out on New Year's before." 

Robin looked apprehensive, but you didn't miss the spark of adrenaline on her face.

You gripped the paper in your fist tighter. "No idea, but eventually they're going to have to realize that we aren't their prisoners and we can be friends with anyone we want."

☾

Feeling unknown And you're all alone Flesh and bone By the telephone Lift up the receiver I'll make you a believer

☾

Eddie was almost out of his front door when he heard the phone ring, shrill and disarming. 

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, listening carefully to his father picking up the phone in the living room. A few seconds of silence, then some mumbling.

"Ed! It's for you!"

The call he had been waiting for. 

On the last day of school before winter break, the brown eyed boy meticulously scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper before stuffing it into your locker. After the passing of Christmas and almost a whole week, Eddie wasn't sure if you would ever call. Or if he had even put the paper in the right locker. 

After the day you had skipped school together, he had been a little discouraged by the wall you suddenly built between them. You were avoiding him in the hallways again. A wall was always up with you, though, and Eddie could easily tell how private of a person you were. 

But he truly thought you both made progress that day. Hot chocolate, driving his van around the old factory across town. Learning about each other and laughing at stupid shit. He figured those would be memories you could reminisce over, years down the line. 

Or was he just being a hopeless romantic? This was real life, not the fantasy of a brave knight fighting for the affection of a particularly sullen princess.

Plus, c'mon, he was Eddie Munson. A freak. But who exactly were you?

"Hurry up and grab it! I ain't got all day, kid. Jeopardy is on." 

Of course, his dad was already drinking and his patience was short, even on New Year's Eve of all days.

He ran quickly to the kitchen before his dad could hang up the call. Eddie almost dropped the phone in all of the commotion.

"Got it!" Making sure that asshole actually hung up the phone in the living room, Eddie Munson composed himself and spoke calmly into the receiver. "Hello, sunshine."

"How did you know it was me?"

Your deep voice, your golden honey voice. Sticky and sweet as it dripped onto his existence. 

"Oh, you didn't know? I have psychic powers. If I focus enough, I could probably even tell you what you're wearing right now."

Eddie's tiny effort worked, and the laugh he elicited from you was like music to his ears. 

"Joke's on you, Munson. I'm actually not wearing anything."

He could have choked on the room-temperature coffee he was sipping on. So much for composure.

"Perhaps my powers are failing me, then," he sighed dramatically. "Happy New Year's, by the way."

There was a pause on the other line. "Hmm, don't go saying that just yet. I was calling to maybe make plans with you tonight."

When the slightly stunned boy didn't answer right away, you continued.

"Unless you already have other plans? I know it's kind of late notice…"

"No, no," he replied quickly. "Well, I have some plans with Jeff and the guys, but not all night. I'm a little surprised to hear from you at all, to be honest."

"Yeah… I have… strict parents. They don't exactly approve of some of the people I hang out with."

Ah, Eddie thought to himself. Another piece of the confusing puzzle. 

He leaned over to peek around the corner into the living room. His father was focused on the TV, chugging beer and letting out an occasional wet cough.

"Sunshine, I know all about difficult parents."

"Maybe we could talk about it tonight? Or have I scared you off?" As usual, your blunt, cocky statements sent shivers down his spine.

"Freaks don't get scared, Buckley!" he chuckled, "I know a good place to watch the fireworks at midnight. Just let me know the time and place to pick you up."

☾

Your own personal Jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal Jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who's there

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

taglist: @siriuslysmoking @ishouldclean @emesis-nemisis

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

[feralnando]

Take your punishment

Sexting Mark while he’s on a work trip is all fun and games until he comes home.

Pairings: Mark Webber x Fem!Reader x Fernando Alonso - set in @percervall’s Fuck it Universe

Warnings: it got feral up in here.

Smut, Sexting, oral (m receiving), masturbation, dom!Mark, use of restraints, clothing being ripped off, cuckolding, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, use of ‘Daddy’, P in V, unprotected sex, spanking.

Word count : 1.1k

-

“All good?” David Coulthard queries, trying to stifle a laugh. He’d just watched Mark splutter half of his freshly made coffee over himself, the table and his phone - which he quickly slams face down.

“Y-yeah, peachy.. mate..” was the Aussie’s strained reply as he scrambles to wipe up the mess he’d made. He’d only seen the thumbnail of the video Fernando had sent him but that was enough to not only make him wear his coffee, but know that he needed to find some privacy, ASAP.

“Just, uh, need to clean myself up,” Mark mutters, excusing himself to the bathroom in a manner that he hopes wouldn’t inform David of his steadily growing erection.

-

Closing the door behind him, Mark unlocks his phone. Instantly greeted by the image of you on your knees between Fernando’s legs, big doe eyes looking up at the camera as Fernando lazily strokes himself with his free hand.

“Fucking hell,” Mark hisses, using his free hand to unzip his trousers in an attempt to relieve some pressure. Pushing down his boxers, his cock springs free, a bead of precum already forming.

“You gonna show Mark what he’s missing, nena?” He hears Fernando coo from behind the camera, tapping his cock against your lips.

You flash a coy smile, trailing your tongue along the length of the Spaniard's cock before taking it into your mouth completely, the action eliciting a moan from him that makes Mark shudder, now so desperate for release that he’s given up on feeling the shame of having a wank in a bathroom stall of his workplace.

He strokes his cock at the pace you’re servicing Fernando, wishing it was you. The sounds coming from the video alone would be enough to finish him off, but paired with the sight of you - bobbing up and down Fernando’s cock as you maintain eye contact with the camera - it doesn’t take long for him to be biting back a string of curses as he spills over his hand.

‘You’re both getting punished when I’m back home!’ he types once he’s cleaned up and tucked back into his boxers.

-

The punishment, as it turns out, doesn’t feel like much of a punishment to you. Mark having a fistful of your hair as he fucks you into the mattress, would class as a pretty good evening in your books.

Fernando however, is not having a good time, at all.

Within a few minutes of Mark arriving home, Fernando found himself being manhandled to the bedroom.

You find his predicament amusing, until Jenson scoops you up in his arms and you’re following suit.

“Don’t look at me like that doll, I’m just doing as Mark asked,” the Brit shrugs “sounds like you deserve it though,”he adds, playfully nipping at your ear before throwing you over his shoulder.

As soon as you’re deposited into the bedroom, you see that Fernando has already been stripped and unceremoniously dumped onto the wooden chair in the corner.

He starts to protest but the second Mark grabs his jaw and forces eye contact, he quickly rethinks back chatting the older man.

“I was at work!” Mark growls, maintaining his grip on Fernando as he shoots a look over to you, as if reminding you that you’re in trouble too. “You’re lucky David wasn’t sitting closer to me..you want Coulthard to see what’s mine?” You both shake your heads, swallowing thickly. “Didn’t think so,” he huffs, letting go of Fernando’s jaw with a shove and pacing over to the bag he returned home with.

Fernando, quite frankly, can't decide if he’s terrified or more horny than he was to begin with as Mark returns to his side, armed with navy bondage rope.

“You’re gonna stay still and watch me ruin her, got it?” He hisses, pulling Fernando’s wrists behind his back and securing them to the chair.

“M-Mark, is this necessary?” he stammers, tugging against the restraints as Mark moves on to binding his ankles to the chair legs - spreading him wide.

Mark doesn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, once satisfied that he’s fully restricted, he bows his head, licking a long strip up the Spaniard’s cock. A helpless whine escapes him as Mark turns his attention back to you - leaving him painfully hard.

“Get over there and face him,” Mark orders and you’re moving without hesitation, eager to please. You breath hitches as you feel his presence behind you, big hands sliding up and down your body as he toys with the silk of your dress. The tearing sound that follows leaves you dumbfounded as he rips the clothing off of you. “The fuck, Mark!” You gasp as you watch the fabric fall to the floor.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he hums, trailing his fingers across your now bare skin - watching the goosebumps form. You go to protest, but his mouth on your neck stops any coherent thoughts you’re having.

You notice that his voice softens slightly as he asks for your colours. The ragged yet reassuring echo of ‘green’ from both lovers has him picking up the pace as his fingers snake their way lower “she’s so fucking wet, Nando.” He groans.

Fernando whines at the lewd sounds that follow as Mark expertly curls his fingers into you. He’s already rock hard and looking exceptionally pitiful about it. His cock twitching helplessly as he takes in the sight in front of him.

Knowing just how to torture you both, Mark wraps your hair around his fist and tugs, using it to direct your gaze at Fernando.

“Break eye contact with him and I'll edge you till you’re crying, got it?” A shiver runs down your spine and all you can do is moan in reply. That clearly isn't enough for Mark, as you feel his hand strike your ass a second later. “I expect a reply, sweetheart”

“Y-yes, yes Daddy,” the sound that the term rewards you with, is downright sinful.

“That’s my good girl..” he smirks, shoving you down onto the bed as you desperately try to keep your eyes locked on the wide eyed hazel ones staring back at you. You almost falter as he pulls your underwear to the side, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

“You gonna take your punishment like a good little whore?” You would reply to this, but the sensation of him suddenly filling you leaves you devoid of any words and you feel the sharp sting of his hand once more.

“I asked you a question,” Mark all but growls in your ear.

“Yes-.. Yes, Daddy,” you’re quick to correct yourself. You can feel Mark smile against your skin as he murmurs his praise. He presses your back against his front, a hand curling around your throat to make sure you keep your head up and eyes locked on Fernando. Judging by the way the Spaniard is looking at the both of you –eyes glazed over in lust and cock weeping–, you are in for a long night.

Well, here it is! First fic in a long while, so please be kind..

This was the result of the brainrot sessions ™ with @percervall , who helped me out so much with this 🖤 ily Mar!

Feedback on this filth would be greatly appreciated.

#mark webber smut #Fernando Alonso smut #webbonso x reader #mark webber x Fernando Alonso x reader #mark webber x reader #fernando alonso x reader #f1 smut

[siredtosturniolos]

Wild Thots

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: You’ve only been recently dating Matt, and you can’t help but rewatch one of his most famous TikToks, and when Matt notices the same sound on repeat he can’t help but get a little curious as to what you’re up to. 

Warnings: None! (first pov)

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

So don't you worry 'bout them bitches I don't entertain them

Matt’s singing along to the lyrics in a blue shirt, headset over his ears. I bite my lip as my eyes glance around my screen, the TikTok audio repeating as it continues to play. 

They only want me 'cause I'm famous

The way he subtly crosses his arms to show off his tattoos. His sexy little half smirk as he continues to sing along has my heart skipping a beat. He licks his lips making my thighs clench together, how the hell can this man be so fine? How the hell did I manage to bag him?

I'm A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie but just call me baby

The way he looks off camera and changes his facial expression has me biting my lip, I need to tell Matt to stream again. Matter of fact, I wanna hear him call me baby more, he just looks so pretty saying it. 

And I be rollin' with the gangstas

The way his mouth curls as he says gangstas and his head slightly shakes, does me in. I must’ve been too lost in my trance because when I lock my phone and take a deep breath, I see Matt leaning against his door frame, that same sexy smirk on his face. My cheeks flush as I realize I had been caught, and quickly scramble to hide underneath his silk sheets. 

“You don’t get to hide from me.” He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, before slowly walking towards the bed. 

I let out a huff, “Leave me here to die in embarrassment.” I jokingly plead, before the covers are suddenly yanked from my grasp and Matt is grinning down at me.

“You gotta see what I filmed while I was at the warehouse.” He spoke, joining me on the bed. I shuffle to make more room for him, just to be dragged into his chest. 

He opens TikTok on his own, and hits the profile at the bottom of the screen, then goes to his drafts. He clicks on the most recent one, and I hear the infamous song begin to play. 

“Shut up.” I gasp, watching as he starts singing along. He’s got a slight stubble, his fluffy hair looks so grabable, and I nearly whine as he lifts the camera above him slightly and holds eye contact with it. 

“Get away from me!” I whine, shoving him away. “I can’t handle this.” I continue, flopping onto my back as Matt is laughing. I cover my red cheeks with my hands and attempt to roll away from him, but he quickly flips our position. Now I’m resting on top of him, my legs on either side of his hips. He slightly sits up to lean against his headboard, then takes my hands off my face. 

“I love that I have this effect on you.” He grins at me, placing kisses over my warm cheeks. I roll my eyes in response, settling for wrapping my hands around his neck, playing with his hair. 

“I can’t help it.” I tell him, making him pull back to look at me lovingly, “You’re just too hot to handle.” I tease him, making him groan. 

“That was corny.” He tells me, making me nod in agreement, “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true though.” I say with a slight laugh, as Matt pulls me in for a kiss.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo’s #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Goll! Reader noticing something suspicious between Hades & Odin, till one day they overheard a bunch of commotions. Loki, Anubis & Apollo were joking about throwing a "surprise" baby shower (Odin's part Jotunn just like Loki is) or engagement party. Thor was raging about destroying the Bifröst & Poseidon was in the spa, contemplating on just why his big brother tapped THAT (Odin) out of anyone else. And it turns out Hades & Odin have been secretly together this whole time.

-Goll peeked around the corner, curious as to why Hades was visiting Odin once again for the nth time in weeks.

-She had been noticing the two of them acting a bit odd as of late, like they weren’t meeting to discuss business or anything like that, this was something else, but she could never get close enough to find out, as she didn’t want to risk getting in trouble.

-She stepped away, going to look for Brunnhilde, to see if her eldest sister knew anything before she heard loud laughter, Loki and Anubis, the two howling with laughter.

-After rushing towards the laughter, she peeked around the corner, finding Apollo there as well, holding a photograph, trying not to laugh as well.

-Loki, gasping for air, managed to stand, wiping a tear from his eye, “Oh man- I can’t believe it! We need to throw them an engagement party!”

-Goll’s eyes went wide, curious as to who was being engaged and she carefully snuck closer, the three gods paying her no mind, so they didn’t notice her. She managed to get close enough, climbing the nearby tree and her eyes went wide, seeing it was a photo of Odin and Hades having dinner together, looking so happy, like they were on a date.

-The three gods ran off while Goll was completely frozen in the tree, stunned by what she just saw, not fully believing it.

-About five minutes later she was shaken from her shock by Thor shouting out loudly, yelling that he was going to destroy the Bifrost so Hades couldn’t visit anymore.

-Goll was quick to scramble down, looking for Brunnhilde to help, as the three had spilled the beans and all of Valhalla knew.

-She ran by Apollo, who was on the phone with Poseidon, who was at the spa in his pantheon, “Why on earth would my perfect elder brother want something like that?”

-Goll kept her thoughts to herself, wanting to scold Poseidon for being so rude to her lord Odin, but she wasn’t going to risk anything as she found most of the Valkyries trying to calm Thor down while Loki and Anubis were on the ground, roaring with laughter, turning bright red from laughing so hard, as Thor believed this was just one of Loki’s pranks again.

-Goll was panicking, not sure on what to do before she heard a small ‘psst’ and she turned, seeing Hades and Odin peeking out from behind a corner.

-She hurried over and Hades gave her a small smile, “We’re going to sneak out of here until things cool off.” she nodded, and Odin ruffled her hair lightly before they took each other’s hands and headed off before anyone else saw them.

-Goll was holding her hands over her mouth, her face bright red, it really was true that they were dating!! She had to wonder what everyone’s reactions were going to be when they found out it was true!

#record of ragnarok #ror hades #ror poseidon #ror loki #ror thor #ror odin #ror apollo #ror anubis

[eldenringle]

I fell off tma Hard for personal reasons, but Gerry's back?? Gerry's happy!?

#tma #tmagp #idk what the new tag is really #is it time to figure out what my old artblog log in is and finish that animatc finally??? #meh if michael shelly gets a chance finally i might listen again #i still hold to the idea that the spiral spitting him back out again would have been a cool fucking concept #i wanted to see a man that was just so SCRAMBLED #twisted around like a pipe cleaner handed to a bored seven year old

[traitorsinsalem]

this is a funny as fuck dialogue option for when you're playing a dead-birth-parents-rogue who just so happens to be mixed. get gathened idiot.

#succ speaks #i just think it's funny that wotc constantly has NO idea how to handle half-elves from a mixed lens. #as much as i WOULD be happy that larian devs were there to say 'hey man people can be proud of their mixed heritage' #it's just funny as fuck to me that the first time i'm seeing this line is with mo fucking gathen. #the only funnier option is 3. this bitch is withering away there's nothing sexy about him unless u ask his actual party's paladin(s) #baldur's gate 3 kind of sucks especially early on but it's worth it to me to be funny while playing with friends who know this character #'hmm. i can't seem to recall what happened to elturel.' [finished the descent into avernus adventure path. was one of the adventurers.] #'the zhentarim? i think i've heard of them somewhere' [is a zhent ardragon with specialties in legal dealings and investigations] #the running joke is that he got mind flayer brain damage after a stat scramble and cannot find the right people for the life of him #this is so funny though. imagine i just became a small local hero and some nice girl i helped one time says she'll sing a song about me #and she's like 'what should i sing about' and i'm like. 'how about my mixed heritage.' LMFAOOOOO that's so out of pocket #like my friend is so curious and wants me to choose it because he wants to know what alfira's even going to DO with that like ????

[supercantaloupe]

christ i'm finally home. thank gd

#sasha speaks #i wanna talk about me #rehearsal in the morning #then i discovered that my phone is. broken. very distressingly so #the back is popping off because the battery is bulging. very Not Good #so i had to make an unplanned visit to the phone store... #spent like thirty very stressful minutes on call with phone insurance to file a claim. #good news is they're sending me a replacement and it'll be here monday #so i don't have to scramble being phoneless for very long. and i'll definitely have it ready for spain next weekend #which is really the important thing...i need my phone to travel sorry #but gd. i'm wiped #i haven't had much to eat today i've just been going nonstop since close to 8 #well i have an iced chai and a pastry now. and i'm chillin. #all my roommates and a bunch of their friends are out at pride rn #it was pretty neat seeing so many people out on the metro and around the city all decked out for pride today tbh #lots of colors and hair/face paint and funky outfits #i would go if i wasn't so tired. and bad with crowds #but. gah. enough excitement for one day i just want to sit in front of a screen for a bit... #shoutout to my 6'1 skinny straight white man roommate tho and his mustache he dyed rainbow for pride tho

[snekdood]

sometimes it feels like ppl on here think ppl who are stern and assertive are shitty and its like... im sorry but ive been walked on all my life, if im not stern and assertive ppl treat me like shit. 

#being bubbly and smiley and welcoming has only welcomed people who want to use and abuse me into my life #id love to be if i didn't feel like people were going to manipulate my kindness #and its not lost on me that im treated like an asshole for this probably bc some ppl just see me as a grumpy hysterical half-woman #even trans ppl who would tell me they dont but show me they do still feel that way about me lmao #ppl rly aren't prepared to discuss how trans men are effected by misogyny in and outside of our communities #we're seen as essentially ugly unsavory women #the woman 'its okay to hate bc they're problematic in x way even iof they aren't we need to find a way all trans mascs r problematic' #'so we have an excuse to keep ostracizing them' #bc once you dismiss someone as a woman you hate whos problematic its a free for all. for some reason yall will let your masks down #entirely on allegedly problematic people who are percieved as women. #like yall are trying to get it all out as quick as you can on trans men on how misogynistic you can be so then you can go 'well ur a man so #u dont experience misogyny lololol gotem anyways lets keep treating them like how society treats women they hate' #and then once it becomes mainstream that its not cool to hate all dudes including transmascs whom you've decided are somehow worse than cis #men- yall will slide into the shadows pretending you didn't do shit or contribute to shit going on here #but if brought up- you'll panic and scramble to find reasons to justify ur behavior. recycling problematic things those transmascs #supposedly did that are either dated and have been addressed and the person has changed or changed their mind since then or #shit thats been disproven and was never real to begin with #and yall dont want to sit in the silence acknowledging what u did at all so you'll keep deflecting and ignoring it forever #bc facing the reality that you've hurt someone for some reason is really hard for ppl on here