#… I don’t even want to make the post anymore

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

SET ME ALIGHT AGAIN.

Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader

"It was on request of your younger brother's small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And now it's at his hands that the haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s giving back to you. And you let it flood you."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; p in v, oral (fem receiving), angst (?), breeding kink, size kink, size difference, romantic fucking in front of the fireplace, afab reader, post dance of the dragons

WORDS: 4.8 K

NOTES: I dedicate this to @sylasthegrim. You're not only one of the few people I really grew fond of in the short time we truly got to know each other, but since both our minds basically came down to the same idea, this is for you! Thanks for beta reading this. 💕

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

You’ve been in Winterfell for a moon’s turn by now, and have quickly noticed that the ancestral castle possesses a beauty and calmness the Red Keep can be jealous of. But even that isn’t enough to make you feel at home – as if you could ever call a place your home again. Not after you’ve witnessed almost everyone in your family, no matter whether you liked them or not, perish at the hands of each other. 

It was on request of your younger brother, now dubbed King Aegon the third, or rather of his small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And while you’re grateful for the chance to flee the one place that has caused you more hurt than good, riding in a carriage up to the far North like a commoner wasn’t exactly pleasant. 

But how else should you have gotten there when your precious mount died along its kind as the common people stormed the Dragonpit?

For the past month, you’ve very rarely seen the sun – or anyone else than your maids. 

Your days are spent in your chambers, not leaving the safety of the Guest House as you often try to find the sleep you can’t seem to get at night. And during the night, when the Hour of the Owl strikes and no light other than that of the moon reaches Winterfell, one often finds you wandering the quiet halls of the castle. Sometimes one even spots you outside in the Godswood, regardless of the low temperatures that make the three pools fed by an underground hot spring look even more inviting. 

But warmth and comfort are never what you’re after. 

You feel incredibly daring tonight, sitting beneath the ancient weirwood tree on one of its roots. Although there is a thick fur coat draped around your frame, the thin nightgown beneath does not allow you to be kept as warm as one usually desires, your bare feet hidden inside of the coat not a big help either. 

Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow was the hardest part, but it was worth it as it gave you exactly what your body longs for. 

You’re far too absorbed by the reflection of the moon dancing on the pool of black water beneath the tree, and the peaceful allure of the snow-covered night that you don’t notice you’re not alone anymore.  

“Princess?” a husky voice rings out from the shadows, one you’d even recognize in a room full of loud and drunken men. 

Almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, the tall frame of the Lord of Winterfell approaches you without any sudden moves, becoming more visible with the moonlight shining down on him. “What are you doing out here this late?”

Only when he’s stopping not far away from you do you avert your eyes from him to the water again. “I could ask you the same, Lord Stark,” you reply softly. 

A chuckle rumbles in his chest at your remark, and you can’t help the tint of heat hearing it brings to your cheeks. “Indeed you could,” he says. “I have not slept well, and the night has a peaceful allure. But you should not be out in the open without any guards, especially not this late at night.”

You drag your index finger through the snow at your side, drawing a mindless pattern in the dark as you do not pay any mind to his words. “And why is that, Lord Stark?” you ask, a certain snarkiness to your tone. “There is nothing worse that could happen to me than what I have already endured.”

Cregan sighs, and even in the dim light you can make out that he’s scratching his stubble covered chin. “And yet, should something else happen to you, I would not like myself for neglecting you and not protecting you just as I have sworn to the king,” he explains. “Besides, there is a cold chill in the air that I can not believe you are not feeling right now.”

“Perhaps that is the answer you’ve been looking for, my lord,” you mumble. “Perhaps I came here to feel something.”

The Wolf of the North doesn’t immediately answer you. Instead, there lingers a pause between you. But it’s not uncomfortable or feels as though it doesn't pass, no, you find yourself to actually enjoy his company. 

His next words, however, even surprise you as you didn’t think he was capable of it. “Feeling the cold of the snow has its way to make one feel alive, that much is true,” he agrees, and then looks up to the dark sky. “You wish to feel something else than the pain of the absence of the people you’ve lost in this war, I understand… I think.”

His words make the feeling of emptiness, the hollowing ache of loss just worse, while at the same time, he seems to know the feeling of craving pain when you’re just so used to it. 

“This cold bite, the chill that lingers on the skin — no one should want to feel it, Princess. It makes even my bones shake, do you know that? Surely you must be shivering, and we should be getting you inside. I should be getting you inside.”

You know he‘s right. While his words are blunt in nature, they are very much that of truth. You shouldn’t be out here, nor should you want to be out here. There‘s nothing to enjoy about this cold chill and the snow, not when you‘re as sparsely dressed as you are. You‘re not yet used to the chill of Winterfell, of the North. 

Cregan offers you his hand, but you‘re still hesitant to take it. Albeit you reach out, your significantly smaller hand hovers over his, not yet grabbing it. “You‘re not exactly wearing proper attire to be out in this wretched cold for very long,“ he remarks. “Let me help you get up, your feet must be in agony by now.“

“And what if I don‘t want to?“

“Then I will still get you up.“ There is a tinge of amusement in his voice now, seeing this little bit of rebelliousness from you, your strength of mind. Even if he doesn’t exactly approve of it. “I shall simply pick you up myself, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you inside to your chambers, even though I‘d get you quite angry and don‘t imagine you want me to do just that.“

You don’t believe he actually has the gumption to do something like that at first, although you know he’s able to muster a decent amount of strength that would easily allow him to lift you up. But then, you wonder if he would truly do it if challenged. “Try that, if you dare, my lord.”

He lets out a snort of amusement, enjoying the teasing that slowly shapes between you two. It still is a challenge, and as a man of his station, he could never let words like this go unspoken. “Oh, I dare, Princess.” 

Putting forth his arm, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and easily pulls you forwards onto your feet without applying too much pressure. You’re certainly caught off guard by his actual willingness to lift you up, and a squeal escapes your lips before you’re tossed on his strong shoulder as if you are some silly, helpless girl. 

Cregan carries you through the Godswood and towards the Guest House, though you don’t resist too much as you’re hanging there over his shoulder – a part of you is grateful you don’t have to walk through the snow with your bare feet once more. 

“Lord Stark, put me down at once!” you demand with a little twinge of laughter in your voice. You feel so light, much lighter than you imagine he’s used to lifting up, almost as if it’s taken all of the pressure off your shoulders. 

But when there doesn’t come an answer from him, you grow slightly frustrated. “What if anyone sees, you madman!” you remark, embarrassment warming your cheeks. 

“Madman? That’s rich coming from the woman who was willing to freeze to death in the snow,” he says jokingly, approaching the large doors. “Who do you think could see us at this hour, princess? The rats? And what if they do? What if someone sees me carrying the poor princess, who had the gall to get out of her bed after midnight and wander the Godswood while in her nightgown?” Although there is amusement in his voice, you also notice the faintest hint of flirtation laced within. “Will they judge me for carrying her, or would they judge her for her imprudent midnight excursion?”

You stay silent thrown over his shoulder, not sure how to reply. You thought you had a good comeback, but it seems Cregan is one step ahead of you. The flirtatious teasing you’ve heard catches you off guard, not expecting to hear it from him at all. It makes your cheeks flush with even more embarrassment when you notice that he’s actually right. But you don’t want to admit the truth in what he’s said. 

“You mock me, but you shall see there would be much scandal if someone were to see this,” you retort, trying to keep calm as you’re now a little bit flustered by these sudden developments. “Besides,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and nonchalant, “who says I won’t tell a tale of you being the imprudent one?”

“Ah, you little rascal,” Cregan replies with a chuckle, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “I see you’d find a way to turn the tides and have it end up with me being the bad guy, taking my chances on a vulnerable woman in the guise of protecting her.”

You’re clearly enjoying the teasing a tad too much, enjoying these quick and witty back-to-backs with him, taking your mind off of your grief. Drawing in a deep breath, you hold onto Cregan’s thick coat. “What would you have been protecting me from, Lord Stark?” you ask with feigned innocence. “Were the trees too menacing that you just had to sweep me off my feet to carry me away from their clutches?”

“No, I am afraid it was not the trees that had me worried, Princess,” Cregan replies as he brings you further into the Guest House, easily opening the door to the sleeping quarters with one hand. “The cold was the greater menace, and it had you in its grasp.”

Your words die in your throat when he puts you down on your bed, the soft furs very welcomed beneath your cold feet. You look up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he towers over your significantly smaller frame, and you wait for him to make the next move. 

There’s a moment of silence between you, obviously he’s considering his next words. 

And boy do they disappoint you. “I shall make sure a fire is lit for you to warm yourself, princess,” he says, turning around to approach the hearth on the other side of the room. 

Cregan crouches down to build and start a small fire in the hearth that should last the night, not wanting you to stay too cold. But you wouldn’t be a thoroughbred dragon if it didn’t mean for you to take any risks. And so you get onto your cold feet, the coat still draped around your shoulders sliding down to the ground. 

Feeling a bit too exposed too quickly, you grab one of the thick fur blankets laying on your bed instead and wrap it around your frame, before you tiptoe towards the large wolf kneeling in front of the fireplace. 

“I have something different in mind,” you speak softly. Cregan, startled by your words and your sudden approach, turns around and faces you as he rises to his feet. You reach and bury your hands in the collar of his coat, the blanket falling to the ground in the process, and when you use your grip to pull him close, you find that he does not shy away in the least – if anything, he follows the tug to connect your lips in a heated kiss. 

He brings his large hands to your waist with ease, and presses his body against yours. The wolf feels like he’s drowning in you, in your lips, your warmth, your presence and scent. Wanting to lose himself in the moment, in you, his hands wander lower to your hips. 

“I did not expect you to do this tonight,” he breathes against your lips, breaking the silence. 

“And I did not expect some things from you tonight either,” you reply, breathlessly, voice breaking with every breath you take. “Is that a bad thing?”

His voice is low and smooth as he speaks, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.” There is a flirtatious smile on his lips, and a playfulness you haven’t seen before in his gray eyes. It’s as if that small spark between you has quickly evolved into an inferno that now burns bright in the both of you. 

It’s a fierce and burning kiss when your lips connect once more, fueled by the fires coursing through your veins. You release a soft whimper with his large paws trailing over your sides, feeling the fabric of your nightgown. 

“If we continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he rasps.

You tilt your head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “Perhaps I do not want you to.”

Cregan’s eyebrows raise at your reply, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist once more. He can’t help but feel a jolt of arousal run down his back, which prompts him to release a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish for it that much…” he whispers in response, before pulling you back toward him, kissing you passionately. 

A breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you pull back from him, licking your kiss swollen lips. “But there are a few things we need to get you out of first,” you tease, tugging at the thick, furry coat that’s draped over his broad shoulders. 

“Are you this eager to have your hands over all of me?” he replies with a flirtatious smirk, but still unclips the coat and lets it fall to the ground. He doesn’t mind you seeming quite intent to get him out of his armor, allowing you to fumble with the clasps and buckles, and eventually helps you remove the heavy bits until he’s left wearing nothing but his breeches. But even those are quickly unlaced by you, left to be a puddle around his feet. 

“My my, do you not feel a little too hot still, Lord Stark?” you tease, letting your fingers wander over his exposed stomach. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping onto your cheeks as you see him in such little clothing, so exposed. He’s a muscular man, tall and large, and the sight of his bare skin with the dark of hair on his chest and a trail of it running below his undergarments is a welcoming one. 

Through the linen you see that he’s already hard and begging, waiting for you to take things further. Truly a shame you seem to relish in the teasing. 

Goosebumps prickle on his skin in the wake of your finger, making you smile. You drag your finger along the waistband of his undergarments, hooking it beneath to tug on it. He knows what you desire, and he’s not ashamed to give you just that. “I do not see you so eager to remove your own clothes, Princess,” he teases, undoing the laces in the front for his undergarments to join his breeches. “It is hardly fair you want to see all of me, yet I am not allowed to do the same.”

You take in a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, standing to full attention. It has you licking your lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you’re quick to pull your nightgown over your head, a smirk on your lips. A flimsy piece of linen conceals what lies between your legs, but it’s still enough for him to all but devour your almost bare frame. 

“There,” you whisper, “now we are on equal grounds.”

Cregan takes a moment to look over you, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts fully exposed mto him. He knows you’re no maiden who’s completely untouched, you wouldn’t be as confident if you were, but it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sight in front of him. 

“Equal grounds, truly?” he asks you, taking a step toward you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him, as his other hand fists the linen of your smallclothes. “I think you still have an advantage over me, Princess. Because I have yet to see what lies beneath your undergarments.”

Your palms rest flatly against his chest, and you press a chaste kiss to his skin. “I will not stop you, Lord Stark,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Then let’s make these ‘equal grounds’ a little bit more equal, hm?” Cregan whispers as well. He sinks to his knees with his mouth trailing a path down your body, licking and kissing over your skin until he reaches your navel. His large hands trail over your sides and thighs on his way down, the movement and sight making your breath hitch in your throat. 

A shudder ripples through your body as he tugs your smallclothes down your legs, and while you watch him with your hands buried in his dark curls, his eyes are all but focused on what’s between your legs. 

He drapes one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his dark blown eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you can make any teasing remark, his mouth is on you. A gasp catches in your throat. “Cregan, please,” you whimper, forgetting all courtesies the moment his tongue drags through your slit. There’s no softness, no gentleness in the way he all but devours your cunt, the previous teasing having made his patience run thin. 

Your head tips back in pleasure as his tongue alternates between sliding into you and swirling around your pearl, noticing both options have you grind your hips against his face. The tip of his nose rubs so perfectly against your pearl when his mouth pays attention to your entrance, and Cregan’s fingers dig into your flesh with your body tensing up already, keeping you steady. 

The Wolf of the North growls against your cunt as if he’s truly turned into one, devouring you with all he’s got, the sheer pleasure brought by his tongue and lips taking over you. 

As you look down at him again, you find him already staring up at you, watching you carefully as you slowly but surely unravel on his tongue. It’s intense, but you’re captivated enough not to break eye contact. 

“Gods, yes, I–” you whimper, and fall apart all over his tongue with a shudder. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s paws on your body, you would have lost balance by now, especially with the way he seemed to work his tongue in and out of you faster just in rhythm to his nose rubbing your pearl. 

He pulls away from you slowly as your peak subsides, and with his beard and lips glistening with the remnants of your arousal, how could you not pounce on him right then and there?

He supports his body with one arm placed on the ground and stretches his legs as you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan against his lips before you deepen the kiss. 

Cregan’s hard cock is nestled between your bodies, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking him once, twice, before you shift your hips and slowly sink down on him. 

Muscular arms completely wrap around your waist, making you very well aware of the size difference between the two of you. You’re significantly smaller than him, and relish in the feeling of being safe and protected with him around. You two haven’t been too close upon your arrival in the North, but it seems that there has been a hidden attraction lingering for quite some time. 

You know your hips would sooner or later become sore from pumping him with your core, hence you stick to rocking your hips back and forth with his cock stuffed deep inside you. It’s intimate and slow, but with the coarse hairs around the base of his cock dragging over your pearl with each swivel of your hips, you’re still racing for completion. 

While he mouths along your jaw and the curve of your throat, one of his hands comes up to cup your breast. Rolling the perky bud between his index finger and thumb, the slight sting works wonders to amplify the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“By the Seven,” you whimper, grinding your hips against him with more determination. 

There comes a sharp hiss in return from him, barely audible between the open mouthed kisses he presses to your collar bones. You’re clawing at his shoulders and neck by now, scratching it despite the sensuality of your movements, and it feels as though you’re even drawing blood. But he doesn’t care about that – he rather enjoys having a woman that doesn’t hold back. 

Trailing his lips up to your throat, he nudges your chin with his nose, prompting you to tip your head back. “It’s not them you need to pray to right now, Princess,” Cregan rasps, a clear strain to his voice. “But perhaps I should take that as a compliment, hm?”

His words cause you to chuckle, and you’re grateful that he’s quickly distracted by kissing your throat again, because otherwise he might have noticed the heat his words bring to your cheeks. “If that is…” you trail off panting, burying your hand in his curls to tug his head back, forcing him to look up at you. The sight of his dark blown eyes hungrily gazing at you sends a shiver down your spine. You feel desired. “If that is a compliment, then I shall have to say it much more often.”

You’re not sure if it’s the fact you state wanting to compliment him more often, or if he’s just not used to having an appreciative lover in general, but your words seem to flip a switch inside of him. You quickly find yourself lowered on the fur blankets, warming your back while the flames heat up your skin and Cregan your blood. 

Nestled between your legs, he’s growing more determined now, the sensual rocking of your hips clearly not enough for him, but you don’t mind it. As much as you enjoy being in control, setting the tone, you also revel in following the lead. 

He’s propped up on one elbow, supporting himself as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips that make his cock drag so expertly against the sweet spot inside of you. 

With one hand, you hold onto his broad shoulder, digging your nails into his skin, while the other gropes at his chest, teasing his bud just like he’s done with yours before. The feeling of his coarse hairs beneath your fingers feels somewhat strange at first, for Aemond hasn’t had as much chest hair as Cregan does, but it’s also comforting. 

The familiar coil in the pit of your belly tightens slowly with his hips snapping into yours over and over again, split open by his hard cock.  

“Will you fill me up, my lord?” you moan breathily, arching your back with your breasts pressing against his sturdy frame. 

Cregan releases a choked groan at the question, and for a moment you can feel his hips stutter. You briefly wonder if you’ve pushed your luck too far, especially with him not replying immediately, until his raspy voice cuts through the heavy pants and moans. 

“Only if you let me take you to wife, Princess.” 

You inevitably clench down around him as a small, hiccuped gasp catches in your throat, resulting in Cregan drawing in a sharp breath. The haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s now giving back to you. And you let it flood you. 

Your hand comes from his chest to his biceps, holding onto it as you gather your thoughts. His hips haven’t slowed down one bit, and he’s truly expecting you to answer as if he wasn’t repeatedly impaling you on his cock right now. 

Staring up at him with wide eyes, your voice isn’t any louder than a whisper. “It would be foolish of me to turn this offer down,” you reply.

An impish smirk dances along Cregan’s features. “Is that meant to be a yes?”

“Y-Yes, it is, “ you whimper beneath him, arching your back once more. 

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent cloud your every being, and his thrusts are determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him. 

His hand snakes between your bodies, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the coarse hair around his cock has granted you at least a bit of friction, it’s not enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circles over the little bud, fully coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly is close to snapping. 

“Then I just might,” he grunts in return. 

Your body jerks at the sudden touch, but his muscular frame between your legs is enough to keep you pinned to the ground. “I need you… Cregan,” you whimper, bringing a hand behind his head to pull him down for a heated kiss. Your lips hardly part to release whimpers and moans, swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure without any shame. “Let me give you a spare.”

It appears that your words give him a new-found vigor that leaves you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. As you start to roll your hips against his thumb, you not only create some friction that feeds your pleasure but his as well. It’s not long after that your peak washes over you with a soft gasp, walls clenching around him like a vice. 

With your small frame trembling between his strong arms, Cregan releases a strained grunt, his own peak being milked out of him by your cunt fluttering around his cock. He keeps on dragging his thumb over your sensitive pearl, prolonging your peak and the pleasure that comes with it.

You stare up at him with wide eyes as you’re milking him for every drop, because there’s something so vulnerable in this wolf of a man, towering over you with his skin glistening with sweat, so desperate to fill you with his seed and breed you. 

The last jolts of his peak force him to languidly rut his hips into yours, desperately chasing the feeling of bliss that courses through your veins. His chest heaves with every heavy breath he takes, and the dark curls are damp and fall into his face. 

Only as Cregan is certain there’s not one drop of his seed left inside of him does he slowly stop his ministrations, and the hand that has toyed with your bud seizes your hips, stilling them.

His erratic breaths fans over your sweaty skin with his lips pressing to your temple. The feeling of being whole with him doesn’t leave you, not when his weight pins you down and keeps you grounded, easing your tumbled mind.  

“I shall welcome the arrival of any child you bear me,” Cregan says, inevitably breaking the silence. 

A smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck. “Be careful what you wish for. My children will certainly be just as stubborn as me.”

His heart is practically pounding against his ribs, and he can feel himself on the verge of being lost by your touch alone again. You make him go wild and feral, your bold and flirtatious nature bringing out another side to him that’s completely unexpected. And yet it feels so right.  

The teasing banter brings a smile to his lips and a light to his gray eyes, your wit and humor shining through. “Let them be stubborn, then,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “They only need to be half as feisty as you, and I shall be the happiest man in Winterfell.”

#cregan stark smut #cregan x y/n #cregan smut #cregan x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan fanfiction #hotd cregan #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon fic #hotd imagine #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #cregan stark x female reader #targaryen reader #house stark #house targaryen

[adriennebarnes]

Drive Thru Test

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N was scrolling through TikTok and saw a lot of girlfriends pretend to be a drive thru worker to see how their boyfriends would react in a certain situation. Y/N is going to test Charles the same way.

Warning: The usual, spelling and grammatical errors, very fluffy and funny

A/N: I saw a TikTok posted by desi.desamito and her fiance Austin gave Charles vibes, like i fully believe he would be so confused and stressed just doing the "test" because to Charles, she's still his girl so why would he not kiss her if she asks for a kiss?

Y/N was with Charles in the parking garage, she got out of his car but told him to stay inside. Charles rolled down his window.

“Mon ange, why do I have to stay inside?” Charles asked.

“Because I saw this TikTok trend and I really want to test it out, please.” Y/N said.

“What kind of trend is it?” Charles asked.

“How you would react at a drive thru.” Y/N said.

“A drive thru? Why would I go through a drive thru if I could just order pick up from a restaurant?” Charles asked.

“What if I’m pregnant and I am craving chicken nuggets or an ice cream or some fries? Are you going to deny me that pregnancy craving because you could just order from a fancy restaurant? I’m preparing you, Charlie.” Y/N said. “Especially because you won’t be able to cook my pregnancy cravings like that guy on TikTok.”

“First, if you want ice cream, you have mine to choose from, and second, my cooking is getting better.” Charles argued.

“I mean it is but it’s still not the best, muñeco. Now let’s start okay? Pretend I’m the drive thru person.” Y/N said walking away from the car.

“Don’t drive thrus have the machine with a speaker to take your order?” Charles asked.

“Just pretend, Charlie, por el Amor de Dios, ya para de hacer preguntas.” Y/N said. She gets closer to the car, poking her head through the open window and resting her hands on the window sill. “Hello, what can I get you?”

“Can i get a number 3…” Charles started.

“Why are you letting her be this close to you? This is ridiculous, we’re kissing distance.” Y/N said and Charles leaned in to kiss her but Y/N pulled back. “Dude, no!”

“But we’re not playing anymore.” Charles said

“I’m still the drive thru person. Let’s start again.” Y/N said. She walks away from the car and comes back, poking her head through the window, poking her arm out to rub Charles’s arm. “Hello, what can I get you?”

“Can i get a…” Charles didn’t even finish.

“You’re letting her touch your arm! You’re telling me that a random woman is touching your arm and you’re just letting her?” Y/N asked.

“But it’s you, baby!” Charles exclaimed. Y/N rolled her eyes, she made kissing noises and of course, Charles leaned in to kiss her, which was a mistake.

“Es neta? You’re telling me if a drive thru person asks you for a kiss like that you’re just going to kiss her?” Y/N asked.

“But it’s you!” Charles exclaimed. “I don’t wanna play anymore, I am so confused.”

“Muñeco, It’s not that hard, and we’re doing this until you get it right.” Y/N said.

“Fine, can i get a kiss?” Charles asked.

“If you get this right, I’ll kiss you as many times as you want.” Y/N said and Charles did his little fist pump in the air and whispered ‘yes’, making Y/N giggle. She walked away from the car and comes back, poking her head through the window and rested her arms on the window sill. “Hi, what can I get you?”

“Can you not lean against my car please?” Charles asked politely and Y/N did what he said. “Thank you, can i get a number 3 with a vanilla milkshake and large fries, please.” Charles ‘ordered’ politely.

“Sure, anything else?” Y/N asked.

“Um yes, can i get a number 1 with a chocolate milkshake and extra fries for my girlfriend.” Charles said but his eyes widened at his mistake as Y/N poke her head through the window. “I mean my fiancé, a number 1 for my fiancé, who is so beautiful by the way.”

“Ay muñeco, you were so close. Girlfriend? I’m your girlfriend now? Does this engagement ring mean nothing to you?” Y/N asked all dramatically.

“My love, the engagement is recent so sometime girlfriend slips out instead of fiancé.” Charles said.

“You’re getting one more shot, Leclerc.” Y/N said.

“I Don’t know why you’re saying my last name like that, it’s going to be yours soon.” Charles said. Y/N walked away from the car and came back, poking her head through the window and resting her arms on the window sill.

“Hello, what can I get you?” Y/N asked.

“Can you not lean on my car,” Y/N moved away from the car. “Thank you. Can I get a number 3 with a vanilla milkshake and a large fries for me and a number 1 with a chocolate milkshake and extra fries for my fiancé.” Charles ordered.

“Anything else?” Y/N asked.

“No, that’s it.” Charles said. Y/N leaned against the car again. “Can you move away from my car?”

“Nah, I’m good here.” Y/N said,

“I’m not though.” Charles said, Y/N touched his hair, messing with it. “Don’t touch me.” Charles grabbed her wrist and pushed her away gently.

“Congratulations Charles, you passed, good job.” Y/N said, she held her hand out for a high five but Charles did not accept it. “Good! That was a test, you passed.” She poked her head through the window. “Okay, it’s Y/N now, you did really well, I’m surprised.” Y/N said. Charles just looked at her. Y/N made kissing noises and before charge leaned in to kiss her…

“Are you Y/N?” Charles asked.

“Yes, muñeco.” Y/N said and they kissed. “Okay, now let’s go upstairs to put the groceries away, i think you deserve a pasta dish after that test.” Y/N said as Charles got out of the car to get the groceries from the trunk.

“Thank you, that was stressful.” Charles said,

“Yeah, i bet. But seriously, next time you call me your girlfriend, i won’t wear my ring out in public.” Y/N threatened.

“That seems fair, my gorgeous fiancé.” Charles said, kissing he one more time before they get into their shared apartment.

The End

Hope y’all liked it even if it was a little short!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[chrollohearttags]

I said I wasn’t going to talk about kendrick vs drake anymore but if it’s two things this whole thing has taught me, it’s:

nothing holds weight within the black community until a man says it. Black girls and women have been calling out this nasty man for quite a while now but were all but told to shut up. Meg was told she took it too far calling him a pedo + saying he had a BBL. Nobody cared about or even acknowledged the fact that he’s bled the culture dry until ANOTHER man said it. The same ppl who were up in arms abt Cardi, Tyla, and any other lightskinned/mixed race woman in general are the same ones who worshipped Aubrey. Now that Kendrick calls it out, everybody wants to pretend they give a shit. The mob mentality is something else. Also, cue *that* Katt Williams interview. As somebody who really loves him and is a huge fan (maybe bc he’s the only comedian who’s actually funny and has never had to make blk women the brunt of his jokes), that Club Shay Shay thing was nothing more than a regurgitation of EVERYTHING Monique had already said years ago. From Tyler Perry and his tap dancing, Oprah, Steve Harvey, etc. To see a bunch of blk men who willingly made our women caricatures for the white gaze and profit, proclaiming that they were ‘forced’ is a fucking insult at best and a sickening ploy to avoid accountability at worst.

white people don’t give a damn abt activism until it’s time to be racist towards black people. Two rappers get in the news for a weekend after months of Palestine being at the forefront of everything (bc fuck Congo and Sudan, right?) and all of a sudden it’s ‘BiLLiOnAiReS arE StEaLinG thE sPoTLigHt—“ the same could be said for FlatBack Swift but every yt gay, Sarah and Brittany was bumping her shitty album and posting her with that bum of a football player like they were the new president or something. All of it is nothing more than a dog whistle for racism and shows just how vapid y’all’s concern for others humanity truly is. This coming from the same subset of ppl who couldn’t be vexed to do anything further than post a black fucking square when police brutality was at an all time high. Putting Hello Kitty stickers on serious terms and posing for Insta at riots like it’s a big goddamn game and of course, when it was no longer trendy or cute to have #BLM ✨🙏🏾😩 posted all over your profiles, y’all went right back to being anti black and making fun of us, WHILE sucking every part of our culture dry.

#cherry chats 🍒 #long story short #fuck everybody #i wish the aliens would let me go with them #I’m sick of this nasty planet #I hate it here

[nottsangel]

hi guys. I’ve thought long about doing this post, especially since I’m trying to stay away from drama as much as I can, but this is going too far and i can’t ignore it any longer. I want to warn people and stop her, because this person’s behaviour is unacceptable and it has gotten to a point where people feel unsafe. besides my experiences with this person, there are many other people who i’ve talked to that have similar experiences, some even worse than others. this needs to stop.

the person I’m talking about is @/vampyshlut (formerly known as rafesbimbo).

this person has been harassing people, ignoring boundaries and not showing any respect whatsoever. she is manipulative, becomes obsessive real fast and will start love bombing. an example of this is intense clinginess; she gets upset and angry when you don’t respond in a certain amount of time and will spam you with many, many messages (e.g. saying that you hate her just because you weren’t online). another example is jealousy; she gets jealous when you interact with other people and will continuously push you (e.g. to commit) and make you feel guilty for not replying.

this was the case with one of my friends. she started acting like she owned them, and got mad when my friend would drink or smoke. after a while, my friend got fed up with this behaviour and blocked her, but even then she’d still send anon asks. when they texted her to stop sending asks, she said “i don’t want to, i miss you.”, and continued harassing them.

with one of my other friends ( @drudyslut ), she found out her real name, which she had never once mentioned on her blog before. when she asked her about it, she said “i did my research.” this is very scary and not okay.

to give another example, in my case, besides the fact that she was two separate emoji anons of mine and continuesly spammed me and asked me for attention with both, she also began degrading me at one point and called me names. it was very triggering and when i was evidently uncomfortable, she kept going and going. she never once asked if it was okay. she has zero respect.

mind you, these are just a few examples of the many things she has done to different people on here.

however, when people are fed up with her disrespectful behaviour and block her, she continues to contact them through many anon asks. and even when you block the anons, she somehow still finds a way to send anon asks from many different accounts and continue to harass.

and even though she claims that she has certain people blocked (and vice versa), when those people post something, she would post an indirect response on her own blog, meaning that she was/is still secretly lurking on blogs that have her blocked. not only that, for some weird reason she also wants them to know that she is watching them.

this kind of behaviour is NOT okay and being blocked means that that person wants nothing to do with you anymore. leave them alone and respect their boundaries.

the reason i decided to write this post is because this is still ongoing and it sucks that me and others don’t feel safe anymore on our own blog. with every anon ask we get, we fear that it could be her. it sucks that we can’t freely interact with other anons anymore because of this. it sucks that even though you block someone, they still find ways to harass you and you can’t do anything about it. i hope that this post will stop her and make her realise that she can’t keep going like this any longer. we all just want to feel safe on our own blogs.

to her: all we’re asking is that you leave everyone alone. if someone has you blocked, they have done it for a reason and do not want anything to do with you anymore. don’t try to get into contact again, don’t try to send anon asks through different accounts, don’t dm their side blog, don’t send texts to their phone number. move on with your life. and no, no one is ‘ganging up against you’, we’re standing up for ourselves and our friends because your behaviour is simply unacceptable and we are fed up. the way you treat people is not okay and it’s getting to a point where it’s really, really scary. i hope you can reflect on your own actions and will heal.

#important. #i am nervous to post this but this has to stop

[mochalate]

[3] new notification!

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.) chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!) a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought. 🔔Please use full screen for the video!

[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations. 

No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month. 

Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.

That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?

So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.

Or so you’d thought.

Can I keep starin’? 

(Could it really be that easy?)

With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.

Was it a fantasy? 

You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.

Or…

It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.

“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”

Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was. 

He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.

“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”

You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”

What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly. 

“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”

Oh. Oh.

There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore—  is making you tear up. 

Osamu hears you sniffle. 

“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”

(You think he really might be your best friend.)

“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh. 

He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”

You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I… think I forgot my phone at work.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”

“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”

“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”

“I— I should bring him something.”

He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

You make your best puppy face. “Please?”

Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”

“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”

“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.

“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.

Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.

It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.

You’d resent him for it.

Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.

You look so happy.

He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish. 

The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?

The phone buzzes.

His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.

(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)

In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.

And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.

Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.

And there you are.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”

(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)

Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince. Divider @/cafekitsune Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site. next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)

#atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #my fic

[supernovafics]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends. 

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.” 

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.  

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.” 

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you. 

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did. 

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on. 

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore. 

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely. 

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.  

She looked up at you. “Want some help?” 

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.” 

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm. 

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath. 

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had. 

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August. 

But, shit, you were already in way too deep. 

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.” 

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore. 

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side. 

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway. 

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.  

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.  

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?” 

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.” 

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.” 

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.” 

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders. 

“It’s not easy for me either.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.” 

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.” 

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago. 

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night. 

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire. 

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again. 

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time. 

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.” 

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

[fairyucks]

finally time for to me to post this vent draft: setting a boundary 💓

why does everyone here feel the need to tell me its okay to e@t more… and i “didnt break my f4st” or when im about to f4st they tell me “break if u need to 🩷” maybe its helpful to others but this is my post to explain how its actually harmful to me

im not trying to come off as cunty but i don’t struggle to f4st, i dont struggle with b1nging. i struggle with getting myself to e@t. i have a fear of f00d, and an obsession with being small.

it feeds into my d1sorder in the wrong ways. i already r3strict as much as possible and these comments just make me want to stop e@ting forever or keep f4sting forever 😭 i wish i could enjoy being tr1ggered into that state of mind but i need to be careful this time 🩷

i know maybe you are just trying to help, it prob helps others, but please leave me out of this!! 🫡

my posts about f4st updates that go wrong, or my omads, or when i used to do wieiads (which im not doing anymore bc its too tr1ggering) are for me to be honest w myself, and sometimes i get so upset even posting them because i feel guilty. and i don’t like the borderline sweetsp0 replies. its so so damaging and i wish i could better explain why. basically youre just saying the opposite of rules i already have in my d1sordered brain and it makes me spiral. it makes me question going down paths that i didnt wanna go down this time. iykyk

please dont think im being rude or anything i just have sm followers and i get these comments way too much now and im setting this boundary 🩷 it gets to a point where i respond and try to explain this and they respond with more “its okay” bs. please understand, ik its stupid but i can’t handle it rn. ill lyk if this changes but it probably wont.

i love all other comments, just nothing telling me that i could/should e4t more, or that its okay to break my f4st.

okok on that note, thanks for 1,000 followers (that number scares me) 🖤 my asks and dms are open and resources for help are pinned. thanks for reading 🩷

#ed relapse #tw ed not ed sheeren #3dtumblr #tw 3d vent #tw ed sheeran #⭐️ve #tw ed but not sheeran #ana is my friend #eating disoder trigger warning #light as a feather #⭐️rving #4nablr #4n4t1ps #4n4blr #4nerex1a #@n@ diary #@na vent #@na rules #@na motivation #th1nsp1ration #3d f4st #f4st1ng #f4st!ng #4n0rexic #4n4m1a #4n4rexia #4nor3xia #3d not sheeran

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

5.3 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 500

Previously On...: Bucky got a call from Lily, wanting to know where he was. He lied to her, of course. That definitely won't come back to bite him in the ass.

A/N: Sorry this is so late going up! Had a last-minute Mother's Day dinner with the family, and then some quality time with @cazellen, and when you add on an hour+ drive each way, it ended up eating my entire evening. But! I wouldn't leave you hanging, so here is today's update, just... six hours late :(

Also, PLEASE NOTE: There is one more section of Chapter 5 to go up tomorrow, and then I will be taking a one-week break from posting so I can focus on writing. So, Chapter 6 will start on Sunday, May 19th. I probably will not be as active on here as I normally am, so if you send me a message and I don't respond right away, it's because I'm busy making more content for you!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily clutched her phone to her chest, shocked. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He had lied to her. She couldn’t believe it. Her best friend had lied to her about what he was doing and who he was with. 

She hadn’t planned on coming to the Compound that night– she’d realized she’d forgotten some files in her office that she needed to look over before she went back to work on Monday, and had just stopped in to pick them up. She figured, since she was there, she might as well go see what Bucky and Sam were up to. She didn’t want to crash their boys’ night, per se, but if they happened to invite her to join them? Well, how could she refuse such an invitation?

That’s why it came as such a shock when she rounded the corner to the rec room and saw Sam and Steve, in front of the large television, watching football together, and Bucky nowhere in sight. She hung back for a few moments, giving him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he’d been in the bathroom, or in the kitchen grabbing snacks. But when fifteen minutes went by, then thirty, and Bucky still hadn’t shown himself, she began to worry.

She was about to barge into the room and demand answers from Sam and Steve, when she heard them talking during a commercial break.

“So, how do you think the date’s going?” Steve asked Sam.

“Knowing Tin Man, I’d usually say ‘terribly,’” Sam said with a laugh, “but this girl seems to actually like him, so who the hell knows? I guess it depends on what time he comes home tonight… or tomorrow morning, doesn’t it?” 

Lily brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp as she backed away from the entrance to the rec room. 

No. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. He wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t just start seeing someone without telling her, warning her, would he? 

So, she’d called him. 

“I promised Sam we’d do guys’ night,” he’d told her at brunch, the lie coming so smoothly off his lips. But she’d heard a woman’s voice on the line with him.

Lies.

And then, he’d snapped “I already told you what I was doing… You don’t have to keep checking up on me.” He’d never used that exasperated tone with her before. Never. And to just hang up on her, without even a proper goodbye?

She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. In their years of friendship, Bucky had never lied to her before, had he? And why? Why now? Who was this girl, and what was so fucking special about her that Bucky felt the need to lie to his best friend about her? 

Lily felt like she was going to be sick.

She needed to find out who this mystery woman was, immediately. And she needed to do everything in her power to make sure Bucky never saw her again.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[daechwitatamic]

Vice;Grip || chs || Masterpost

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip Vernon x afab reader || angst/smut/fluff || fuckbuddies!au NSFW - minors DNI

Status: complete - posting updates weekly starting May 17 wc: 32k total; 5 chapters

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse. PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Additional warnings for: language, drinking, eventual smut (individual sections will have more detailed warnings)

Author's Note: huge thank you to @eoieopda and @sailoryooons for beta-ing, accepting many screenshots and rambling voice notes, and answering a lot of questions as I worked on this.

Series Teaser:

You both knew why you were there. You both knew what you needed out of it: just sex, just fun.

The just of it failed to last.

You know precisely the first time it was different, the first time it wasn’t for fun. You needed the same things as always: his mouth hot on your skin, his hands roaming, the feeling of him emptying your mind and pushing every bad feeling out like there wasn’t room for them anymore. But for the first time, you didn’t want those things for enjoyment.

You wanted them as a salve.

Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. 

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

1. Sharp is your favorite word for Vernon. It fits everything about him, top to toe, inside and out.  Sharp, sharp, sharp.  He looks how you feel inside, even now. 

wc: 5700 || read more posting: May 17

2. “What is it?” he asked. “Want me to make you feel good?” No, you wanted to say. No, just want you to make me feel.

wc: 7600 || read more posting: May 24

3. wanna be a cicada with me? vernon what the fuck its a serious question

wc: 5100 || read more posting: May 31

4. “Don’t go home. Stay. Jagi, stay here.” And, he had to give you credit - you at least told him the truth. “I can’t.”

wc: 6600 || read more posting: June 7

5. “What about now?” he asks. “What?” “You said not back then,” he explains. “You said back then you couldn’t give me what I wanted. What about now?”

wc: 7300 || read more posting: June 14

#kvanity #svthub #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #vernon fic #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon chwe x reader #hansol x reader #hansol x you #chwe hansol x reader #vernon smut #hansol smut #vernon chwe smut #chwe hansol smut #vernon angst #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #chwe hansol fluff #fuckbuddies au #fic: vice;grip

[tuliptired]

One-shot for Egon? Egon and the reader that constantly throws him off guard with their flirting?

Shut Up, You're Stupid, Just Kiss Me

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Reader

if you saw me post this to the wrong ask you actually didn't

better formatting on Ao3 😔

Another one of these benefit-things. Egon understood the whole spiel- show up and look nice so the city doesn’t shut them down and a few nonprofits can look generous. But they got repetitive quickly. He didn’t even know why they were invited to this one. But, Ray insisted that it’d be good for them- and possible investors. Everyday sacrifices.

Ray and Winston always handled the networking part of the night, while Peter sat next to him at the bar, absolutely bored out of his mind as he toyed with an empty glass, head in his hand. Egon didn’t drink, but for some reason these bars were the only seats in the entire ballroom. It never made much of a difference, as he always spent the majority of his time observing the guests or the bottles on the wall, or wondering what he’d do when he got home. 

“Egoooooon,” Peter whined for the 10th time that night as his head hit the bartop. “I don’t know what to do.” They’d been through this. 

“Do what you always do. Get drunk. Talk to women.”

Peter’s cheek lay against the wood as he turned to face him, eyelids lower than usual. “But I miss my girlfriend.”

“Halfway there.” Egon righted his forgotten glass as it threatened to roll off the bar.

“You don’t get it, man. I’m committed now.” If that was a solemn vow or a complaint, it was hard to tell. 

A pair of women stood next to them at the bar, giving quick apologies for the close proximity. Peter notices Egon’s shoulders square, and suddenly becomes very interested in tonight.

He perked up quickly, leaning into Egon. “Y’know what would make my night? Seeing you take a chance. Don’t shake your head- you know I’m right.” Egon shut it down silently, shrugging off Peter’s hands. Peter was right, he hadn’t “taken a chance” in what felt like forever. Peter’s voice continued to try and convince him, as it was tuned out into a low vibration of sounds. 

Romance- or love, didn’t scare Egon. He was a grown man, after all, and he figured he understood it well enough. But that was his downfall. Person A is attracted to Person B, and they start dating- it was a simple equation. Peter and Dana defied the equation at times. But they put themselves back into it. Louis and Janine bent the rules of the equation. Could he do that? Could he break the rules, make new ones, to law that evolves every moment? Peter’s voice turned into a ring. This didn’t matter. People didn’t look at him.

He first experienced that realization in high school, the week of a dance. Big ears, big glasses- but Peter had a date. Peter always had a date. Did he want a date? Someone to hold when it was dark? To blush with as they got dressed up together? He was only human. But would he ever get that? All signs pointed to no. So, he stopped worrying about it all together. It was easier to ignore while his nose was in a book. 

Peter was practically draped over his shoulders. “Do you want me to die, Spenges?” 

“Can’t you bother someone else?” He didn’t mean to snap. It was just an unpleasant moment of awareness, it always was. 

Peter was unmoved. “Oh, Egon. Is it ‘cause they’re girls?” He jumped from his stool as Egon decided to remove himself from the bar. “Sit, sit, sitsitsit. I’ll go and find Ray. I think you need a nap, anyway.” Peter disappeared into the crowd before Egon could join him. 

Loneliness. Maybe he really should start drinking. Or, coat tailing after Peter found Ray to get out of here sooner.

He couldn’t stew in his increasing misery for long, as he felt a presence behind him. As he turned around to be freed from tonight, to stick to Ray or Winston’s side like a lost kid, he was met with a different sight.

Oh god.

“Mr. Spengler!” Your cheery face beamed. “It’s been a while. Is anyone sitting here?” Not anymore, you were already lowering your butt into it. 

He remembers you well. He was required to take an Humanities class, something about ethics and morals in STEM students. You were a TA, the professor explained  not necessarily going into that field, but taking the opportunity anyway. Egon considered himself to be well-rounded academically. But you were near tyrannical. In a class of liberal arts, english, and history majors, he stuck out like a sore thumb. You picked on him relentlessly, engaging in back and forth discussion that the rest of the lecture watched on. Even the professor.

Independent analysis- each student assigned a poem and asked to dissect it. “But, Mr. Spengler, surely you’re not insinuating that the speaker didn’t grow throughout her poem?” Your voice was loud, though the hall was smaller than normal and his seat was much closer to the front than he remembers it being yesterday.

You were always on the side of emotion and subtext, him on the side of logic and literalism. “In 6 stanzas, she wrote about flowers. I’m insinuating that her perspective did not grow in those 6 stanzas.”

You turned your back to him, moving to the large chalkboard. “Are you sure you’re not dancing around the fact that your assignment was an allegory for sex?” The class broke, and his face flushed into a bright, knowing red, as you flashed him a bright, knowing smile.

Relentless torture. You’d stop him before he could leave the hall, a timed essay in your hands that you’d returned to everyone but him.

“Interesting topic,” you offered, after an hour of grilling him. As he reached for the paper, you pulled your hand back.

“Your writing is improving. You do exceptionally well when it’s something you enjoy.” You let him take it.

You start for your things by your desk, before calling out into the empty room. “And you’re cute when you actually try!”

So he decided that he hated you. It was the only plausible explanation. He left your debates cherry pink , stumbling over his own words. He could have sworn that he was beyond intelligent. But when he stepped into that room with you he became a bumbling idiot. And hate was a powerful thing. He found himself contemplating what would occur that day as he made his trek across campus. He was sure he’d understood the essay he was assigned to the point of being able to recite it. That would show you. But you shut him down, and up. No matter how calculated and practiced his responses were, you tore down his guard with your comments. How could someone who made him feel so stupid say such…things? He sat alone at night, pondering his ailment. You confused him to an intense degree. Sweaty palms, increased heart rate- this was hate, white and hot. 

The morning before he graduated, preparing to return in the fall for his doctorate, he appeared in the desolate classroom, as you cleaned out filing cabinets. 

You looked up from underneath the desk, the smile he’d seen for a whole semester spreading on your lips. “Your reception outfit is nice, Mr. Spengler.”

God damn it. Why was he here again? The grip on his bag tightened as he scoured through his brain for any recollection. You had a box in your arms, simply passing him.

“Don’t change,” and the door shut behind you.

How he hated you. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you managed to order a drink while talking directly to him.

“Of course.” Sweaty palms, increased heart rate. 

You sipped your glass. “You finished your doctorate? No more school?”  

He adjusted to spontaneous conversation, albeit slowly. He didn’t face you as he responded. “No more school.” You let out a noise of surprise.

“Doctor Spengler. I like that.” His ears burned. 

“And you’re doing the ghost-thing?” Oversimplification. But he found himself not caring when the words fell from your lips. 

“Full-time.”

“I get your ads 24/7. You look great in a jumpsuit.” His long legs jerked against the underside of the bar, and he heard you stifle a laugh. His stomach soared. Vitriol.

There was a hand on his arm. That commanded his attention. If he wasn’t full of…rage then, he was now. 

You murmured. “I don’t still make you nervous, do I, Dr. Spengler?”  He couldn’t breathe. As he opened his mouth, the only sounds that came out were stammers. You just laughed, squeezing his arm as you rose from the stool.

“I’ve gotta get going. Goodnight, Dr. Spengler.” You were gone before he could blink.

Nights later in the firehouse, in the safety of his lab, he couldn’t focus. How ironic? As he trotted down the steps for fresh air, the phone rang out. Janine was out for her lunch, and the others were still on the road from a last minute job. He sighed.

“Ghostbusters.” 

“Hey, Dr. Spengler. I enjoyed seeing you again and,” He held the phone to his ear with two hands. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner tomorrow night?”

He hated you. He’d show you just how smart he was by hanging up, ending this (one-sided) college feud.

“We’re back,” Ray’s voice startled him as he leaned against the desk’s edge staring at nothing. “Did we get a call?” He looks to the phone, resting on the tabletop rather than its proper place. Egon swallows.

“Just one.”

“Okay?” They wouldn’t accept his answer. He averted his eyes.

He conceded, letting himself lean back against the desk again. “An old TA.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “The one who used to needle you all the time?” Ray had never met you, but he recalled Egon’s bad moods after having left your class. 

“Egon’s got a bully,” Peter directed at Winston as he did something in his own open office, behind Janine’s desk. “What’d they want?”

He took a short breath. “Dinner.”

Peter whistled. “Gutsy,” Winston offered as he sent Peter a look of shared surprise. Ray kept his attention on Egon.

“Good on you for saying no.” Egon was silent.

Peter reappeared. “You said no, right?”

More silence. Egon was a weak, weak man. Peter put him in a headlock, pulling him in tight as Ray’s eyes blew out, wide, and Winston laughed in disbelief. 

“Spenges is a big fat masochist!”

A woman walked in for an in-person consultation, confused at the sudden spectacle.

“Would you be quiet?”

You were (fashionably) late. 5 minutes and 23 seconds, to be exact, but he wouldn’t mention it. Not while you were going on about losing your house keys before you were about to leave. As you talked, he couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked in the warm lighting of the restaurant. Jealousy, perhaps?

So he let you talk. And talk. But he didn’t find himself searching for other stimuli like he normally did with characteristically chatty people. You seemed nervous, cringing a bit after every poorly measured story or unintentional confession. He had a bit of an upper hand. He smiled to himself, albeit small.

“What?” You grinned back, probing him. 

“Nothing,” he took a sip from the water he’d been nursing in place of wine. His expression was smug, hidden behind the lip of the glass.

“How’d you stay single, with a face like that?”

He choked on his water, setting the glass down as he coughed into his elbow. You had your head in your hand, leering at him like he was food. “I beg your pardon?”

“When you were post-grad? Guys and girls lined up outside your office to speak to you. And it wasn’t for your brain.”

You were messing with him, like you always were. But he’d bite. “They were eager to learn.”

You drew your hands up, incredulously. “Yeah, eager to learn what you looked like naked.” For the first time in his Jewish upbringing, he felt compelled to utter the name Jesus Christ.

The night went on for a bit longer. Against his better judgment, he started to find you funny. And witty. And incredibly alluring. You strung him along for 10 minutes about a classic of fiction, only to reveal that it was a personal story of your sexuality. And then you did it again, this time making a comment about his rear end. He couldn’t help but be startled every time.

You let him go on a tangent about his studies at one point, watching and listening intently. He felt the feeling rise in him again. This must have been full revulsion, because he couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. His cheeks began to grow sore from prolonged, uncontrollable smiling- what he considered to be himself reverting back to primal reactions from how hot his hatred burned. You fell into your old ways, going back and forth about a classic he’d read between then and college. He felt like he did in that lecture hall, temperature increased and body leaned towards yours.

“Assine point of view, Dr. Spengler,” you crossed your arms. The name made him feel like he’d collapse onto the floor every time you said it, however the scene was made in a fancy restaurant. 

Begrudgingly, he spoke up, voice weaker than it had been in hours. “You can call me Egon.” He absentmindedly picked up his glass.

You shook your head, twice. “Dr. Spengler is fine. It's pretty fun to say in bed.”

The glass in his hand shattered in his white knuckled fist. That’s how you both were escorted out the establishment, partially for the glass now strewn into the carpeting as well as his palm, in addition to his failure to react to the staff shaking him around. You guided him outside, the cool air doing him some good as his hand was wrapped haphazardly in white napkins.

“Sorry. About your hand.” You broke the silence, assuming an arbitrary direction as you continued in the path of your apartment. 

He was in his own world. Nay, his own universe. He stopped you as a cool wind blew through the sidewalk, rustling a nearby tree. 

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what I know anymore. I hate you. And you hate me.” 

His face was one of desperation, while yours was one of dismay. He continued.

“When I talk to you- when I see you. I feel the intense-st emotions, most of which I never thought I’d experience. I sweat. Too much. I forget what was on my mind. I look like an absolute moron. And- I never knew what that meant. So it had to be hate. That’s why you treat me the way you do- you laugh and smile and call me an idiot while calling me handsome because you hate me, too.”

He never vomited his soul out like that to anyone. Only a handful of times, really, to his closest friends. You only blinked, before a new expression drew over your features. Your face melted into a smile, to his surprise, as your arms suddenly found their way around his neck. 

“Come inside, Dr. Spengler.”

He woke up the next morning- in your bed as you slept soundly. How he hated you.

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1989 #ghostbusters 1984 #egon spengler #egon spengler/reader #egon spengler x reader #egon x reader #egon/reader #peter venkman #ray stantz #winston zeddemore #oneshot #fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #open requests #ask box

[pirate-hunter]

I don’t usually share episode / plot thoughts cause I always feel like everything I write sounds so stupid immediately after I post it, BUT-

I very genuinely hope all of this mess with Eddie explodes horribly. Twice now, he’s faced a big turning point within himself after a big downward spiral, and I think this is gonna be the third time.

I want him to be the one to break things off with Kim and sorta close the chapter on his Shannon trauma. But I want Marisol pissed, furious. I think she needs to really lay into him about this, say something really nasty. Eddie, I love you, but you kinda deserve to feel like shit too after pulling this.

Imagine at the end, everyone’s feeling hurt, including himself, maybe Buck’s also a little mad about it all. Because he couldn’t reason with Eddie at first or he’s mad about being dragged into a lie and being complicit with it.

And THEN-

Big injury or really close call for Eddie on the job 👀 and we pull in the catholic guilt again as a closer on this storyline. Because he’s questioning who he is at his core, and he feels like a bad person and maybe he deserves to be hurt physically in exchange for hurting everyone emotionally? Gods retribution for his sins?? Real bottom of his spiral kind of stuff.

Anyway, he makes it out of course, but confides in Bobby after that he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be fine after all that.

And then BAM- another Eddie Bobby parallel, and Bobby gets to basically talk Eddie through a situation that emotionally parallels his own recent problems, thus also reaffirming it for himself too.

And we get a conversation about how our mistakes don’t determine our worth and we get the chance to learn from them, grow, and be better. We get to try and make amends (👀) but it might not always work out, but it doesn’t mean we give up on ourselves. Bobby’s view on God is definitely so different from Eddie. I feel like Eddie probably views him as a god with a flaming sword, where Bobby have gotten to a point where he can focus on God’s love and forgiveness. And I think affirming that to Eddie (even though he’s more lapsed than anything) would help him start looking at his religious past in a different light.

This is long, don’t know where I’m going with this anymore, goodniiiiight

#eddie diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers #bobby nash #my 911 thoughts

[dana-is-snax]

Do you think Hannibal was in love with Alana and Bedelia? The same way he was in love with Will? Or how do you see Hannibal's relationship with Alana and Bedelia compared to his intense love for Will?

okay, buckle up, this is gonna be a wild ride. [that escalated a bit, short answer: here.]

First of all, I want to say that I am not sure how Hannibal would define love. I think for him it is mostly about being understood and seen.

Second, I think that Sorbet is really telling about his three main relationships. It contains the first session we see between him and Bedelia, we see the beginnings of his and Alana’s romantic relationship and we see Will missing his session and Hannibal coming to see Will, their conversation where Will gives such an accurate assessment of the Ripper’s motivation.

Third, since Hannibal is so manipulative his relationships are often written in a way, where we often see what he wants us to see and then later, it is revealed that it was a whole other thing entirely. In my opinion that makes it hard to assess his relationships.

alana bloom

In my opinion he neither loved nor was in love with Alana – she was an esteemed colleague. He carefully flirted with her and entered a relationship with her as means to an end, a future alibi, because she was someone Jack would trust. It was built on manipulation – even if Hannibal expressed regret for that and offered her an out.

“I was hoping you and I wouldn’t have to say good-bye. Nothing seen nor said. You may have found that rude.” “[…] I was so blind.” “In your defense, I worked very hard to blind you. You can stay blind. You can hide from this. Walk away, I’ll make no plans to call on you. But if you stay, I will kill you. Be blind, Alana. Don’t be brave.” Mizumono, 00:29:37-00:30:27.

It is mentioned, they worked together in what I think was a mentor-mentee relationship. This previous platonic relationship, their history, is what he constructed their romantic one on.

“You had me examining PhD candidates that week.” “And I’m grateful you were examining PhD students and not the Ripper. You realize those candidates thought we were having an affair. Why didn’t we?” Sorbet, 00:25:50-00:25:58.

I think for Hannibal it is important that people see him, that someone understands him. Alana did not and could never – “while being able to understand Hannibal's philosophies, [she] is unable to accept or digest them.” (cf. tayasui-mono in her post)

“Could I ever have understood you?” “No.” Digestivo, 00:26:32-00:26:40.

[honorable mentions]

that weird ass kaleidoscope sex scene

the theremin rizz

bedelia du maurier

I do believe that he was in love with Bedelia once upon a time, at the starting point of the series I would say he loves her but is not in love with her anymore.

In Sorbet, Alana mentions an affair he had while she was working with him. I always interpreted that this affair was with Bedelia.

“You were already having an affair.” Sorbet, 00:26:05-00:26:07.

In my opinion, Bedelia is one of two people, who get to know Hannibal under the person suit. Alone by her knowledge that there is a person suit she knows him better than most. The best scene for that is the first session we see in Sorbet.

She sees small glimpses of him. When she mentions the existence of his human veil/person suit as well as the loneliness that surely must come with it, we see a small smile flash over Hannibal’s face, acknowledging her knowledge of him. More so she knows that she knows him.

“I see enough of you to see the truth of you. And I like you.” Sorbet, 00:18:18-00:18:22.

Not only does she confront him with the fact of his dishonesty, with the existence of his human veil/person suit, but she also distances herself from him being his friend; they are colleagues and in a doctor-patient relationship. She gives clear boundaries, BUT crosses them in the same scene by drinking a glass wine with ‘her patient’.

Bedelia is morally ambiguous, we never know whether she is scared or complicit – or a little bit of both. Or if she even knows.

“Important to get across was the degree to which she is aroused by what is happening. Why on earth is she there? I mean, I know she is titillated by him. But the fact that she got on the plane and went to Italy with him implies that there is something deeper between them. This is the first time he commits a murder in front of her. It was important to see the degree to which she is on the one hand completely terrified. And on the other hand, there’s a part of her that is definitely turned on by and enraptured by the danger and him.” Gillian Anderson in ‘Gillian Anderson Rewatches The X-Files, Sex Education, Scoop & More’ for Vanity Fair.

I believe also that if Italy had been the first time she ever was directly confronted with Hannibal’s violence - while acting like or rather being his wife mind you – she would not have been so torn about it.

Something that I also don’t want to skip is the fact that she killed before and that she liked it – at least that's how I would interpret the orgasm-like camera work in that particular scene. Therefore I would say that Hannibal likes to play with that darker side of her – to provoke her.

“Observe or participate?” “What?” “Are you, in this very moment, observing or participating?” “Observing.” “You say you’re observing, but this…this is participation, Bedelia.” Antipasto, 00:37:25-00:37:53.

In the end though, Italy happens while Hannibal is already and still very much in love with Will and he is literally talking to his ‘wife’ about his boyfriend.

“Was it nice to see him?” “It was nice…among other things .He knew where to look for me.” “You knew where he would look for you.” "He said he forgave me." “Forgiveness is too great and difficult for one person. It requires two: the betrayer and the betrayed. Which one are you?” “I’m vague on those details.” "Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love." "You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love." Secondo, 00:00:53-00:01:57.

After all that there is no way Bedelia didn't feel used. She knew she was filling the gaps Will left in Hannibal's life while understanding that although they are similar she could never replace him in any manner.

I don't understand how people interpret her as annoyed or as if she "just didn't want to die". There was surely understanding and love between Hannibal and her, yet not like between Will and Hannibal.

And YES, they fucked.

[honorable mentions]

the dancing scene (and the whole antipasto episode just for their chemistry): “Bellissima.” “Grazie.”

the dinner scene: “My husband has a very sophisticated palate. He is very particular about how I taste.” “Is it that kind of party?” “It’s not that kind of party.”

will graham

Hannibal’s relationship with Will I always find hard to define as it is written in a way that is not so much based on romantic or sexual attraction but rather mutual understanding – ‘seeing each other’. (Which, let’s be honest, is probably due to NBC being homophobic.)

Because of his ‚gift‘, his heightened empathy, Will can assess the Ripper in a way that no one else can. In Sorbet, he does so in Hannibal’s presence and Hannibal finally finds someone who really sees him.

“Displaying one’s enemies after death has its appeal in many cultures.” “This aren’t the Ripper’s enemies, these are pests he’s swatted.” “Their reward for their cruelty.” “Oh, he doesn’t have a problem with cruelty. Their reward is for undignified behavior. These dissections are to disgrace them. It’s…it’s a public shaming.” “Takes their organs away because, in his mind, they don’t deserve them.” “In some way.” Sorbet, 00:34:44-00:35:21.

In each other they find someone that understands and reciprocates.

“They are identically different, Hannibal and Will.” Digestivo, 00:03:59-00:04:02.

With his Achilles/Patroclus reference in regards to their relationship Hannibal practically confesses that he is indifferent to anyone but Will in his life. (How Will misses the point of this reference is completely inexplicable to me. After this he still had the audacity to ask, “Is Hannibal in love with me?” YES, YOU STUPID MAN!)

"Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus. Whenever he's mentioned in the Iliad, Patroclus seems to be defined by his empathy." "He became Achilles on the field of war. He died for him there, wearing his armor." "He did. Hiding and revealing identity is a constant theme throughout the Greek epics." "As are battle-tested friendships." "Achilles wished all Greeks would die, so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down." Tome-wan, 00:40:22-00:41:07.

In the end, Will and Hannibal are so incredibly complex, they are written so that they literally defy definition und do not fit into a mold. I could not even say that Hannibal feels intense love for Will. I’m not even sure that Hannibal is able to feel love at all - same with Will - or rather how they feel love.

But they see each other for what they are.

"Time did reverse. The teacup that I shattered there did come together. A place was made for Abigail in your world... You understand? A place was made for all of us, together. I wanted to surprise you. And you... you wanted to surprise me. I let you know me. See me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it." “Didn’t I?” Mizumono, 00:36:15-00:37:18.

 [honorable mentions]

the baby trap: "Who knows Abigail better than you and I? Or burden she bears. We are her fathers now. We have to serve her better than Garrett Jacob Hobbs."

the ogling: “Are you feeling paternal, Will?”

conclusion

Hannibal did not love Alana. She was an esteemed colleague but in the end, she was a means to an end. She was there to give him an alibi. He manipulated her.

Hannibal surely once was in love with Bedelia, maybe even loves her still but is not IN love with her anymore. I would say he took her to Italy for the love that once was there – for old time’s sake.

Will is ‘Blackbeard’s last wife’. He and Hannibal just have an unprecedented understanding for each other. Hannibal wanted a future with Will.

So, no, Hannibal was not in love with Alana and Bedelia, or at least not in the same way he was with Will.

[I want to note here that both Bedelia and Will often behave in a way that Hannibal would consider rude and he turns a blind eye to it. All this to say, if it had ended with Bedelia, Will and Hannibal as a throuple, Hannibal wouldn’t have had a peaceful day in his life ever again.]

#hannibal lecter #will graham #bedelia du maurier #alana bloom #hannibal meta #bedannibal meta #hannigram meta #hannibal nbc

[luimnigh]

You don’t have to answer this, but if RWBY’s ip does get sold off from Rooster Teeth, would you have any interest of returning to the series?

Geez, "returning to the show" makes it sound like I was crew. I'm just a person who watched it.

And to answer your question... I gave up RWBY not out of any moral argument. While the exploitations and abuses RT put their staff through are terrible, it would be naive of me to believe that nothing of the sort, or worse, was not going on pretty much anywhere else in the entertainment industry. It's rife with exploitation and abuses of workers, it's rife with covering up the misdeeds of people, it's rife with problems.

If I wanted to only consume media where I was sure there wasn't any exploitation behind the scenes, I'd be stuck with self-published stuff made by one person. And that one person might be an asshole, so there's still no way of guaranteeing it's morally pure.

I gave up RWBY because I thought the awareness that something I loved had assholes and suffering behind the scenes would hurt me worse than giving it up. I was trying to spare myself emotional discomfort. My reasons were literally self-centred.

...so yeah, I was wrong. Denying myself something I loved hurt. Badly.

I cried the day Volume 9 ended. Because it was the only Volume I hadn't watched as it released. The show had been with me for nearly a decade. It was important to me.

And despite refusing to watch it, it still takes up space in my brain. I have theory posts and meta posts in my drafts that I've written just to get them out of my head. I've sent anonymous asks to people just to see their opinions on thoughts I've had.

Back in January I started considering watching RWBY again. It was clear that my reasoning had fallen apart, and I struggled to find new reasons. But after a few days I kinda just let the idea go. I had time to think.

Well, now thanks to Warner Bros, I have six days left to think.

So to answer your question: I have no fucking idea. I don't hold out hope that someone else will pick the show up. I know they've said they're in talks, but... I just struggle to see it happen. And even if they do... I still don't know. Because I don't know the reason why I don't watch it anymore. So I don't know if the fact that there won't be a RoosterTeeth this day next week will affect my reasons for not watching it.

#asks #anonymous

[l3irdl3rain]

I’m sure I’ve told you guys before about my coworker at my part time warehouse job that hates Duncan but I had to work with her again tonight and she was on her bullshit regarding him again.

I would like to clarify, this doesn’t upset me. I mean it does in the sense of “I can’t stand her and she’s a bitch” but also it’s fine. She can think what she wants to think. What matters is that I know Duncan is happy and I love him.

BUT ALL THAT TO SAY! It is so funny to me that she is a grown woman and this is who she has beef with. He’s just a little fella. Girl you are so dumb to be beefing with a cat.

Anyways he’s mad in this video because I stopped him from trying to eat Gertrude’s breakfast and gave him a bath.

#I haven’t had to see her in a few months bc I only work a few hours a week there and she had a temporary schedule change #and tonight she was like ‘oh I saw you did a fundraiser for Duncan… hmmm what is the point of that?’ #‘if his condition isn’t curable what can the neurologist even do for you?’ #and like a regular person this could be genuine curiousity #but I am not dumb. she believes I am wasting ppl’s money #she is just jealous that ppl like Duncan more than her #I keep the peace bc I don’t want to make the work environment hostile but I won’t give her the time of day anymore #I also went to HR and was like ‘you guys have to make her leave me alone before I kill her’ #and they actually switched her department so I won’t have to work directly with her anymore #my post #Duncan

[bekkathyst]

One of my old giveaways popped up in my notes and I saw it had 40k notes. And that was just normal back then.

Boy, has tumblr dramatically changed in the last few years lol

#I can’t even imagine that number of notes these days #I remember when I’d post the most low effort picture of a crystal #and it would get like 2k notes #now I’ll spend hours trying to make the perfect most aesthetically pleasing post #and it will get 50 notes #hahaha 💀 #it’s crazy how tumblr tries to deny there’s a fraction of the users on here that there used to be #also the culture has shifted and people don’t like reblogging as much anymore #which has been a big detriment to creators #or artists #whatever you want to call the people making original content #but anyway

[gayvampyr]

maybe it’s the autism but has anyone else felt like the whole “moment of silence” thing is kinda stupid and performative

#like why do we need to just sit there n be quiet #if it’s meant to be a moment of reflection maybe leave that up to the individual to decide how they want to reflect #like every year on 9-11 we do a moment of silence at school. i mean not anymore for me since im no longer in high school #but i don’t know anyone who was in 9-11. i don’t even know anyone who knows anyone who was in 9-11 #idk i just feel like it’s performative to show that your morning by making everyone else do it too #*youre #text post #top posts