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#...i wanted this entire thing to be colored and all but apparently I don't have enough energy for that yet
unearthly-doting · 25 days
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finding their soulmate: genshin edition.
a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!
includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.
warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.
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XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?
And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.
He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.
You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.
It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.
But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.
Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.
But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.
He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.
When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.
You will stay.
And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.
Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.
Just stay.
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KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.
Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.
You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.
Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.
And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.
Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.
And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?
For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.
But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.
He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.
But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.
Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.
Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.
Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?
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KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.
Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.
She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.
And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.
No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.
Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.
At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.
Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.
Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.
There were, however, a few bad apples.
It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.
It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.
Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.
And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.
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ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.
So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.
That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.
This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.
You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.
And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.
All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.
Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.
And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.
But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.
And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.
Oh.
There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.
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TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.
Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.
And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.
He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...
Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.
He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.
And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.
You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.
Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?
You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.
If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.
Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.
He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.
After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.
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AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.
He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.
Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.
For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.
He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.
You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.
And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.
Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.
Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.
And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.
If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.
Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.
And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.
Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?
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ponett · 8 months
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Whenever I complain about graphic or dark content in media I watch, I keep hearing people retort with this apparently very popular opinion that people who enjoy comfy, wholesome things are actually more likely to be raging assholes than people who love things like death metal and gore. As someone who seems to enjoy comfy, wholesome things yourself and likely met many others who enjoy similar such things, do you agree with this opinion? If so, why do you think this happens?
So I've been sitting on this ask for like a week, not knowing whether or not I wanted to touch it because it kind of feels like being handed a live grenade
For one, I don't like being pigeonholed as someone who just likes "comfy" or "wholesome" things. Yeah, I enjoy My Little Pony and Animal Crossing. I made a game with cute furry characters and lots of bright colors. I also enjoy things like Berserk and Chainsaw Man and Doom and violent crime dramas and punk rock with vulgar lyrics and porn. Variety is the spice of life
Anyway: I generally don't think it's a good idea to make sweeping statements about peoples' moral or intellectual character based on what genres of story they enjoy, regardless of what direction you're coming at it from. But this is a very leading question that kind of skirts around the root problems
There's frequent (perhaps a bit exaggerated) pushback these days against people who prefer their fiction to be a warm blanket, a form of escapism meant to distract you from the real world. In particular, the dreaded "person who only watches kids' cartoons" is a form of this that gets brought up a lot. I don't think the root problem here is what media people enjoy or don't personally enjoy - taste is subjective, and I don't think it's a moral obligation for everyone to have diverse tastes in TV shows - but I do think some folks should try to get out of their comfort zone a bit more. Sometimes stuff that seems like it won't be for you on a surface level will really end up speaking to you, but you won't know until you give it a shot. Trust me, I've been there many times
It becomes a problem when people demand that media ONLY cater to that "warm blanket" attitude. And I think that's part of the reason why that stereotype you mentioned about fans of ""wholesome""" media being assholes exists. People who view dark or violent content as an inherent flaw because it's not what they like. People who yell at creators when they make bad things happen in their stories, because how dare you do this to my comfort characters? People who say movies should never have sex scenes. People who want "problematic" moral complexity stripped out in favor of black and white moral instruction. People who seem to hate any sort of interpersonal conflict in fiction at all
These attitudes can be the result of many different cultural factors, factors that can't all be traced back to Tumblr or what shows you like, but sometimes it's definitely because of that lack of broader perspective on media. You can tell when someone's opinions on The Right And Wrong Ways To Write Fiction were shaped almost entirely by, like, Steven Universe discourse. (Yes, this is a jab at Lily Orchard.) And when these people are very loud about their opinions, well, it becomes a trend people notice
Like. I don't know you. You sent this anonymously. But when you say you "complain about graphic or dark content in media you watch"... that could mean a few wildly different things! Maybe you're just venting about something that unexpectedly triggered you, and that's totally fine. But the wording could also imply that, like, you take issue with these things being present at all, and that you expect a person who likes "death metal and gore" to be more of a "raging asshole" than someone who likes the "wholesome" things you like. So... well, maybe you're more dismissive or judgmental of things outside your comfort zone than you realize?
Unfortunately, in case it's not already obvious, on the internet this shit quickly becomes a proxy battle over dozens of intersecting cultural issues at once where everyone is kinda just talking past each other. So it gets messy
For example, I have no reason to believe that the people who run the "Wholesome Games" showcases have anything against games that are dark or violent or contain adult themes. (They've outright said they don't. Many times!) But when you see people going "why is Spiritfarer allowed in the showcase? That's a game about DEATH and that's NOT WHOLESOME, why would you make me think about death?" or "Ugh, why does Disco Elysium have to be about a cop? Why can't we apply these systems to a game about a young witch who's trying to find a lost cat in an idyllic village instead?" it... Well, it makes me sympathetic towards the indies who don't feel comfortable with the "Wholesome Games" label and consider it limiting. But it also doesn't make me think that devs catering to a demand for more chill, nonviolent video games are categorically facilitating fascist censorship from the Christian right
It's complicated! The written word is imprecise and the internet is a nightmare
I've kind of gone off on multiple tangents here. Basically: I do think that people can kinda turn fans of "comfy" media or "adults who only watch Bluey" into an overblown boogeyman these days. I think people online generally have a habit of swinging too hard in one direction or another in their stances on certain things, overcompensating based on what group of people online are currently annoying them the most and turning said group into like The Main Problem With Society Today. But I also think that boogeyman only exists because of very real examples of people demanding that everything cater to their narrow comfort zone. Go like what you like, but also, y'know. Don't be that person
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d3nt4l-d4m4g3 · 7 months
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a story of one fake penis, 39 surgeries and counting.
This story I found through this post. don't click it unless you want to see frankendick. Frankly, the phalloplasty looks okay (only compared to most I've seen and I've seen too many. too... too many doing this work) besides the enormous scars and color mismatch. It's a low bar. But I was interested to see the user's progression.
That post, of surgery results the user admits took three years to achieve (""), is from two years ago. According to the user's more recent post history, it's been downhill from there.
11 months ago, the user's erectile implant began pushing through the skin, requiring surgery. Three months later, after the revision, the complication repeated. In this post from r/Everythingphallo 4 months ago, called "Is there anyone here who has had a phalloplasty reconstruction?"— the user states:
Initially, everything was perfect – it looked aesthetically pleasing, had great functionality, and the sensation was at 100%. However, over the past 3 years, I have had 15-20 surgeries due to complications and issues. The appearance is now completely deteriorated, and my functionality is greatly limited. The scars are contracting more and more, causing a loss of 4 cm in length, which wouldn't be so bad if it still looked good and functioned properly.
in the comments, the user clarifies a major reason for the many revision surgeries was problems with the constructed urethra. Multiple surgical revisions to the urethra caused stiffening, hardening, constricting scar tissue. A bacterial infection was additionally overlooked for "several years" which worsened the damage, and no doubt put the user at severe risk of bladder and kidney infection.
As indicated by the post's title, the user does not want to stop surgery, but instead wants to entirely reconstruct the phallus using the same technique, radial free flap phalloplasty, as performed the first time. This would mean she would have massive scars and limited mobility/strength in both of her arms and hands.
In this post from two months ago, things are somehow worse. (How..?!!)
user states:
 Recently, I lost all sensation (previously 100%), can no longer experience orgasms, and suffered a 50% reduction in length due to a parasite that damaged the tissue. Furthermore, I am scheduled for an emergency surgery because my ED has once again resulted in the skin breaking, marking the 5th or 6th time in a year. In general this is my 39 surgery and I’m so tired.
Parasite?!? Which apparently doctors missed for OVER TWO YEARS?? Jesus Christ, if she was playing medical bingo she'd have won years ago. But of course, she's lost everything.
All that the first phalloplasty got her was 39 surgeries, urethral strictures, loss of all sexual sensation, bacterial infections, parasites, she still wants another one.
Don't you dare say this is life-saving surgery in any capacity. It is life-ending, mentally, physically, figuratively, literally.
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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month
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I had this though on a cute little one shot for Alastor x chubby reader in the hotel I was wondering if you would like to run with it? Where the reader gets some nail varnish that matches their lip color without thinking about it. Alastor becomes rather fond of them wearing the color and eventually it vanishes after Angel points out that it’s almost the exact same color as the reader’s lips.
The reader ends up pouting a bit over it because they can’t find it anywhere in stores anymore. They ask Angel if they borrowed it to Angel’s confusioned response to the tune of “why the fuck would I want to wear your lip color?” And it gets to the point they ask for Nifty’s help finding it while Alastor is trying to avoid the topic entirely. Eventually Nifty DOES find it in the radio tower much to Alastor’s flustered frustration.
A/N oh hell yes i can do this. 11/10. Also I am skipping the fuck around in my request order, I am so nervous about posting cover up pt 4. I promise it will come out soon.
Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Gn!Chubby!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Uhhh I got a little suggestive with this one guys. Sorry. Also,, Alastor is a little creepy and stalkery and has a thing about hands. This one just came out all around weird. Also, I named it after my favorite lip and nail polish matching combo so don't judge the fic by its name. Also Alastor sexualizes the reader a bit. Let me know if I missed anything. (guys i really have no idea what happened with this one, i am so sorry. I hope you still like it.) Also,, Alastor is for sure ooc.
Word Count: 3,675
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"Is that a new color?"
Alastor's ears perked up. He didn't turn to face the source of the sound but he listened. There was only one person in the hotel Angel would direct such a question towards after all.
"Yeah. It's essie, Berry Naughty is the name I think? Nail polish and makeup products always get called the silliest things. Do you like it?"
Y/n was the Hazbin Hotel's newest resident. They had arrived just a few weeks before, brought into the fold by Angel himself. The pair were old friends apparently, knew each other from back when they were alive.
"Yeah, it suits you. A lot more than that blue you used to wear."
There were three things the pair could be discussing in Alastor's mind. The first was Y/n's clothing. They were always dressed to the nines, decked out in some crazy ensemble or another.
At first, it had seemed foolish to Alastor. Anyone who cared that much about what they looked like had no shot at being an enjoyable person in his mind. That was before he had started to get to know the demon, seen the joy it brought them to indulge in fashion, realized the things they wore were for them and them alone. Everything had changed with that. It wasn't about persuasion, getting attention, facade. It was just who they were.
The thing about this first theory, however, was that Y/n almost never wore blue.
"Hey!" Y/n laughed, sounding a tad offended, "I liked the blue and I still might go back to it."
The second option was lipstick. Another little hobby the demon indulged in that had caused Alastor to misjudge their character upon their arrival was the makeup. Every few days, they would come down from their room in one crazy look or another. It was always something dramatic, coordinated perfectly to whatever else they had going on. If Y/n loved anything, they loved a theme.
Alastor had again made the mistake of assuming Y/n's enjoyment of such a thing was a representation of their vapidness when he had first met them. He would not be making that mistake again. The thing was, for all their wild self expression and experimental use of colors, he had never once see them sporting blue lipstick, he couldn't even picture it.
"What! I'm just sayin." Angel teased.
The third and final option, the one Alastor decided was what they must be discussing, was their nail polish. Y/n loved the act of painting nails, called it a ritual of self adoration. The way they talked about it, someone would think they were dedicating sacrifices at an alter to the gods. Every week, like clockwork, they would repaint them. Monday afternoons, four o'clock sharp. Their favorite color of late had indeed been a dark, almost black, blue. Alastor had liked it. The color had made something about their hands shine.
"Rude." Y/n scoffed in reply.
Alastor had always loved Y/n's hands. He had always had a thing about hands. In his opinion, hands were the most telling part of a person, or demon even. They showed nerves, experience, hard work -- went straight through to the core of who a person was. A carpenter's hands were rough, a cook's were scarred, an artists stained with color, a string musician's had calluses on the fingertips. Yes, a lot about a person could be learned from their hands.
Y/n's hands were soft, on the smaller side, and without the bony protrusions of their knuckles so many people seemed to admire now days. Alastor had never understood the desirability of skeletal thinness. It was impractical and uncomfortable. Y/n's hands suited them perfectly, Alastor thought. They were his favorite pair of hands to watch, the way they would flit across the keys of a piano, the way they kneaded the dough when she baked, the way they held a pen.
"I mean, it does match your lipstick now which is kinda a look."
At this, Alastor really did turn around. He couldn't help himself.
Y/n and Angel were lounging on the couches of the hotel lobby. They were dressed down, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged their legs and a crop top that accentuated their body perfectly. They looked soft, they looked comfortable, they looked delicious.
The idea of hunger was a complicated one. When Alastor thought of other demons as delicious looking, it was because he wanted to eat them, to consume their flesh that is. Y/n was certainly delicious but, he had no desire to eat them. Not like that, at any rate.
Angel had been right, Alastor could see it from across the room. The soft ruddy red of their nail varnish matched the gloss coating their lips perfectly. Alastor had always loved the color red.
"Wait, really?" Y/n asked, holding a hand up to their face, by their mouth, their nails turned out towards Angel, "Is it bad?"
"Nah, it's honestly kinda a look."
Y/n hummed, moving their hand from their face and staring intently at their nails.
"Maybe it'll be my new color then... This is the gloss I wear when I'm just doing normal makeup."
"Cohesion is key." Angel noted, "If you have a look to fall back on, people tend to like that in my experience."
Y/n stayed true to their word and Alastor relished in this revelation. Over the course of the next week, nearly every time he spotted them around the hotel, they were wearing that same combination of nail polish and lipstick. It was a secret indulgence of his, a treasure.
They nearly caught him staring one time as they were talking with him. It was nothing special, just one of their average, casual chats about the ethics of one situation or another. For someone who had ended up in Hell, Y/n had a soft spot for moral philosophy. It was clearly spill over from some preoccupation of their mortal self.
Mid conversation, he had drifted off. He hadn't meant to, it was the way they talked. Y/n was an animated conversationalist, always moving their hands to accentuate their words in one way or another. It drew his eyes to their hands and their face equally, their nails and their pretty, dark red lips.
"Hey, Alastor... Alastor!"
"Yes, my dear?" he had quickly replied, snapping out of his stupor.
"Are you alright?"
"Why on earth wouldn't I be?"
"You just kinda... trailed off there."
Alastor tried his best to push his embarrassment to the side, to shake it off his shoulders seamlessly. Miraculously, he succeeded. He wasn't quite sure how, when they were watching him with such concern filling their eyes, a slight pout to their lips.
"Just a little distracted. Lots to do today. My apologies, my dear."
"And here I thought you loved deontological thought." Y/n had teased.
Everything was fine. Alastor didn't mind Angel having noticed, it was a well known fact the spider demon saw Y/n as a sibling rather than a potential partner. The pair had grown up together and when Sir Pentious, one night, had asked whether or not they had ever messed around with each other, seeing how close they were and comfortable with physical contact, the pair had made eye contact before each putting on their own display of disgust.
Alastor was good at seeing through people, he knew it hadn't been a show. What was a problem was when Husk somehow noticed the pairing of their lip and nail color as well.
Alastor had been talking to Charlie about one thing or another as Y/n shared a drink with Sir Pentious at the bar. He was half listening to Charlie, half to their conversation. Alastor always kept an ear out for Y/n's saccharine tones.
The pair had been chatting about how their respective journeys to redemption were going when Husk had cut in.
"Did you match your nail color to your lipstick?" he asked in mild amazement.
Alastor bristled. That fact was his, was for him. No one else was allowed to see.
"Yeah!" he heard Y/n brightly reply, a tinge of pride to their voice.
Though Alastor's back was to them, he could picture the way they must be holding their delicate, gentle hands up now.
"Isn't it cute?"
Husk whistled.
"Damn, Angel is finally rubbing off on you."
"I mean, I guess." came Y/n's hesitant reply.
"You trying to catch someone's attention?"
Alastor could hear his own heartbeat in the silence that proceeded their reply.
"I mean, not on purpose. Not with this. I just like the way it looks... I don't know, it makes me feel... pretty."
Y/n was right. Alastor knew for a fact, had seen it with his own eyes, how irresistible the combination made them look. Now others were starting to notice it as well and, well, Alastor couldn't have that, now could he.
The next morning, when Alastor came down for breakfast, he noticed Y/n sitting at the table, looking uncharacteristically despondent. His back to them as he began to prepare his morning cup of coffee, he smiled.
"What's got you down, my dear?" he asked and Y/n sighed.
"My nail polish disappeared."
So, they had already noticed. Alastor picked the carton of milk up off the counter.
"Don't you have others? You're always a veritable rainbow of color!"
Alastor kept his voice light and cheery. His coffee made, he took a seat at the table across from them.
"Yeah, I guess. I just liked that one. It matched my favorite lipstick."
"Couldn't you try another color? That midnight blue last week was rather nice."
"Yeah, I guess." suddenly, their eyes shot up to his, a smile breaking out across their face, "Wait, Al! You're a genius! I'll just go buy another bottle!"
When Y/n returned from the store a few hours later, their gray cloud had returned.
"Are you alright?" Vaggie asked as they slumped onto the couch beside her.
Alastor couldn't help but note, from his hiding place, the way the act of sitting changed their body. They were beautiful standing, stunning even, but something about the way their thighs spread out over the surface of the couch...
"Yeah." Y/n grumbled, "Just... bummed."
"Oh no!" Charlie exclaimed, walking away from the bulletin board she was planning their next lesson on and joining the pair, "What happened?"
"It's stupid." Y/n groaned, throwing their head back.
"Wrong guy hit on you?" Angel teased and they immediately righted themselves, shooting him a glare.
"No." they pointedly replied, "Just... that nail polish? Berry Naughty or whatever its called? The one that matched my Spicy Sienna gloss?"
"Damn, you're pulling out the color names." Angel laughed, "Yeah, I know. What about it?"
"I can't find my bottle anywhere and I went to like seven different stores today and none of them had it! Not one! You didn't borrow it, did'ya Ant?"
Angel put a hand to his chest dramatically.
"Who, me?"
Y/n rolled their eyes.
"Nah." he waved them off, "You know I always ask before I borrow. I learned that lesson about you the hard way."
Y/n sighed despondently again.
"I'm sorry." Charlie hummed, patting Y/n's knee comfortingly, "I know it was making you really happy."
"It's silly." they shook their head, "It's just nail polish."
"Yeah but, it clearly brought you a lot of joy." Charlie insisted, "What if I ask Nifty to keep an eye out for it around the hotel?"
Alastor almost let the shadows hiding him from the group in the corner of the room dissolve in shock. He hadn't expected that. He had really thought everyone would just let it go. Yes, he knew Y/n would probably be upset about it for a few days but, that just gave him all the more of an excuse to be near them, to comfort them.
"Really Charlie?" Y/n brightened immediately, "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course! I mean, I'm not making any promises but, you know."
Y/n pulled themselves from the couch, throwing their arms around Charlie's neck.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"It's just a nail polish." Vaggie chuckled, watching the interaction warmly.
Y/n let go of Charlie, who shrugged back at her girlfriend.
"It makes them happy."
Two weeks had gone by with no sign of the bottle of nail polish. Y/n still went to the stores every few days, checking for the color, but had yet to have any luck. Nifty too had come up empty handed.
Alastor was very pleased with himself. The trick of using his shadows to empty every store in the surrounding area of the color before Y/n went shopping was something he was particularly proud of.
Of course, all along, he knew where the missing item was. It was in the top drawer of his night table on the right hand side of his bed. Nifty only went in to clean his room maybe once a month or so and she knew better than to snoop. It was all going off without a hitch, even the comforting aspect. Alastor had had the absolute pleasure and honor of showing up at just the right place, at just the right time (imagine that), so as to be included with Angel when Y/n had the bright idea to see if she could find any other matching colors between her vast collection of lipsticks and lipglosses and even larger collection of nail polish. He wasn't sure how their hands could sustain that much acetone, or their skin that much makeup remover, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
Alastor was in his studio, fixing one of the control panels, his mind filled with spinning memories of the past couple days (Y/n had even hugged him! The feeling of the cushion of their waist against his arms, their stomach, was not one he would soon forget), when he heard a knock at the door. He straightened up, eyeing it suspiciously.
The guests of the Hazbin Hotel, as well as its staff, knew better than to disturb him while he was at work. It's owners, on the other hand, were much more foolhardy. He ran a hand over his hair, straightening it a bit so as to make himself presentable, and called for the knocker to enter.
The door creaked as it swung open, just like Alastor wanted it to. A creaky door was a good thing, it made sure most people couldn't sneak up on him when he was at his most vulnerable, most distracted.
"You'll want to grease that." Y/n hummed as they stepped into the dingy space, "I think we have some WD40 in the basement, if you want me to bring it up for you."
They had never come to visit him up here before, never dared even come near the rotting wooden door. Alastor walked forward, shutting the door behind Y/n now that they were fully in the room. He was close enough to feel their breath on his skin as he smiled down at them.
"No need, my dear, although, I do appreciate the offer."
A silence fell between the pair as Y/n took a few steps further into the room, their eyes running across every surface available before them. Alastor noticed their hands were clasped behind their back. It wasn't an unusual position for them but, something seemed different about it this time.
"What can I help you with?" he cordially asked and Y/n turned to face him.
"Well... I... um..." they locked eyes with Alastor, finding their words at last, "Nifty found something today. While she was cleaning."
Alastor was glad Y/n's demon form was not all that powerful in this moment. If it was, they would have heard his heartbeat spike. His voice, his demeanor, even his expression were easy to control but his heart? Not so much.
"Oh?"
"Yeah... I..." Y/n trailed off.
With a sigh, they brought their hands forward, opening them to reveal the source of Alastor's anxiety. Nestled there, in the softness of their palm, was the nail polish.
"She found it! Congratulations, my dear. You must be thrilled."
"Yeah." Y/n replied uncertainly, looking away.
Alastor knew why they were so uncomfortable, but his hope was stronger. There was an uncanny sense of optimism in him, one that was unfounded and unfamiliar. It drove him to pry, to see how much they really knew. For all Alastor knew, there could be something else entirely going on.
"Where was it?"
"I..." Y/n looked back at him once again, "That's the problem, Alastor. Nifty said... well, she said she found it in your room."
"In my room?" Alastor repeated, feigning confusion, a hand to his chest in mock surprise.
Y/n nodded.
"In your night table drawer."
They must have known him better than he thought, have seen the flash of sudden anger in his eyes or something like that, maybe he had tense his body. Whatever had ticked them off, they continued.
"She didn't open it. Nift said it was open and went to close it and just... spotted it in there so don't get mad at her, she didn't do anything wrong."
Alastor stood in silence, watching Y/n carefully.
"I just... Look, I'm not mad, I am just confused. Why was it in your room, did you take it from me?"
A shock of nerves fluttered in Alastor's stomach. The heat rushed to his cheeks and he looked away, a hand flying instinctually to his collar and tugging at it just the slightest bit, as if the room was too hot. It was all the answer Y/n needed.
"Why?"
Alastor turned back to Y/n and nearly stumbled back a few steps when he realized how much closer they had brought themselves to him. Nearly every other time, he was the one to bridge the distance, to step into their personal space. His breath caught in his throat, a sort of thrill flooding his mind.
"I... I..."
He had stuttered. Alastor didn't stutter. He had never stuttered, not even when he was alive.
"You..?" Y/n prompted, leaning forward slightly.
His mind was reeling. He couldn't tell if that was their goal, secretly, if they had finally realized the effect they had on him and begun to use it to their advantage. Alastor looked away again.
"It was..."
"You knew it was my favorite. Why did you take it?"
Fuck.
They were upset, maybe even angry. Alastor had seen them mad before but it had never been directed towards him. Normally, he would relish in the wrath of another but Y/n's wrath? Fuck. He realized right then and there, he would rather die.
"Husk." he admitted at last, his hands now fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, his face flushed.
Alastor dared a glance at Y/n. Their brow was furrowed.
"Husk?"
"Yeah. Husk."
"I... why Husk? Did he dare you? Did he... I... what?"
Whatever feelings they had previously held had been replaced by pure confusion. Alastor could handle confusion. The situation at large was still unwelcome and rather untenable but, at least there was the confusion.
"He..." Alastor cleared his throat, brave enough to meet their eyes again at last, "He noticed."
"Noticed.... oh."
"Yeah."
They fell silent. This wasn't a thing Alastor had felt since he was very young. There was a wild animal in his chest. In this moment, he didn't just look like a deer, he was one and Y/n was the hunter with their gun trained on the spot between his eyes.
"It wa-"
"Did you also take it off the shelves all over the neighborhood?"
They had always been smart, smarter than he gave them credit for. Alastor grimaced, nodding slowly.
"Alastor, why did it bother you so much? Is it illegal to match my nails to my lips? Does it go against your... your weird ass deontological code?"
"No, it's just... it was... fuck!"
Y/n had never heard him curse before. A hand flew to Alastor's head, he took a deep breath.
"Alastor, I-"
"It was for me, okay? I... I didn't want anyone else noticing. It was just for me."
Y/n looked somehow even more confused as he lowered his hand once again. The releif that had accompanied the admission was greatly outweighed by his anxiety as he waited for their response.
"But Angel noticed too? Before Husk?"
"That's different." Alastor sighed, "He... You... I..."
"Alastor, what's going on?"
There was concern now, lacing their voice in its gentle vines. It almost made everything worse.
"I like you, okay!? There. Are you happy now!?"
He didn't know why he was yelling. Y/n's eyes went wide.
"You... like me? Like, like like me?"
He glared at them and they put their hands up in surrender.
"Just trying to clarify the situation!"
Alastor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.
"Yes. I... like like you or... whatever nonsense you just said. Are you happy now?"
It was a stand off, each training a metaphorical pistol at the other. Y/n was the one to finally break.
"Yes." they curtly replied, crossing their arms to mirror his position, "I'll... I'll let you get back to work now."
Someone had driven a nail right through Alastor's chest and into his heart. He watched their retreating form as they opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Just as it was about to fall shut, they miraculously stuck a foot between the closing door and its frame, peeking their head back into the room.
"Just so you know: if you asked me out on a date," they began, their eyes flicking up to his from where they had previously been fixed on the floor, "I'd say yes."
-----
A/N Ant is a pretty common nickname for Anthony in NYC (where I am from and where I'm pretty sure Angel is supposed to be from). Yes, I will be using it in another fic I am working on too (its part two of Unexpected (Vox x Reader). Also,, deontology is when you have a strict set of ethical rules/maxims you stick by no matter what (Kant is a deontologist).
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@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog
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tastesousweet · 1 month
Text
⭒ the girl with the tattoo (viii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7
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matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader
summary : the triplets' birthday party is a perfect place for flirting, tension, and... well, matt and y/n's forte.
warnings : use of alcohol, weed and smut ( just a lil flithy icl ), beware that the word count on this ho is crazy - meaning i did not proofread!
mickey speaks : this took a MINUTE to get out im sawrryyyy. i tried to fit everything into one part and ended up rewriting almost the entire part last minute (which is most of the reason why this is very delayed), sooo hope you love??? bc i dont lmfao also the triplets r a couple yrs older in this (turning 23)
THIS IS PART EIGHT GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!
"JESUS, matt. can you take this seriously, please?" chris scoffs, taking the dry-erase marker cap from its awkward spot between his teeth.
matt's not one to continue adding his opinion knowing it won't be listened to. he prefers to leave the impossible-to-get-a-word-in debating to nick and chris who have no problem yelling over each other to the point that they don't even know what the issue ever was.
so he's found comfort in sitting at the dining room table with his eyes firmly closed and arms used as a pillow for his head, leaving nothing but a dollop of his hair to be shown, or as he told chris "attempting to find peace for myself while living with you chaotic fucks."
"what could you possibly want from me?" matt asks without moving from his face down position, voice muffled and strained.
"i want you to fight for your opinion! don't you care about what we do for our birthday?!" chris stresses while nick rolls his eyes and falls into a bored stance, leaning against the dark marble counter.
matt finally raises his head causing his face to scrunch up and eyes to squint due to the sudden and bright change in lighting, "no? i actually don't give a shit, chris."
chris first feels the instigator within him sighing in defeat only for his pride to take center. he figures if nick has practically given up and matt cares so little, that gives him all of the creative action for birthday plans. exactly what he wanted.
his lips form a tight line to hide his satisfaction as he shakes his head slowly, unevenly wiping his hand across the magnetic white board (that he used to write the many ideas thrown around in his head, mistakenly thinking a visual would narrow things down for him and nick). “‘kay. then i’m getting nate to help plan us a house party and it'll be fucking perfect. because i care.”
౨ৎ
you've never been so grateful of your front door's placement this close to the kitchen. but carrying three cake boxes and a tote bag the size of your torso, desperately needing to put them down after traveling up three flights of stairs, will surely be the task that brings that gratitude out of you.
though when you arrive, your scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips are an apparent contrast to the enthusiastic vibe of your kitchen- with andrea moving her hips to the lines of spanish dancing in the air, waiting patiently for the sizzling indication of her fried egg's tenderness, and the use of pink lemonade-colored towels or handles on utensils (that made you and andrea way too happy during one of your first target runs as roommates) scattered around.
drea finally notices you when your metal keychain clanks against the countertop, "y/n!" her excitement slightly dulls with her widened eyes when she gets a better view of your face, turning the stove off and coming closer to hug you. "hi, good morning-ish. are you feeling okay? ...or, like, sad?" you silently accept her gesture and tuck your head in her neck while she caresses your hair with a sigh, "or both at the same time...?"
your response is a breathy sigh and pause before the words tumble out, "m'fine, i think. just overestimated myself a little with staying up so late." you remove your head from her neck and move backwards to lean against the countertop, fanning your hands to create a much needed breeze, "and i'm so hot, it's making me feel gross."
andrea peers into the clear plastic cutout on top of one of the boxes, "at least the cakes look nice."
a week ago you set your mind on gifting the triplets their own cakes for their birthday (thinking that sharing a day was already enough, no way would you want them to have to share and agree on only one cake). you easily gathered their cake preferences by sneaking it into any random conversations you'd have with each of them.
and after a week of planning and preparing, was it so bad if you wanted a fun night in with your roomie? andrea warned you several times to go to bed considering you'd be up at 5:30 the next morning, but you insisted that you'd be fine and asked her to help you clear the rest of the box-wine in the fridge.
you could tell matt was a little irritated that you chose rewatching episodes of a sitcom and "cheap ass box-wine" over sex with him (of course throwing the fact that his birthday would be arriving in only a few hours right in your face) but you pioneered and assured him that you'll make time for him the next day, while also sweetly reminding him that you too have a life outside of this exchange.
at midnight you sent the triplets a group message to congratulate. and a few minutes later you left andrea on the couch for your room, sending matt a birthday text of his own (because you did feel the tiniest bit guilty for rejecting him earlier) paired with a picture with your shirt lifted, hem tucked behind your teeth, and your boobs sat in a sheer bra with decorative white trimming and a bow in the center.
he didn't respond for almost an hour and you tried to not feel embarrassed or overthink his reaction at all.
you couldn't stand the giddiness that came over you (you'd blame it on being the slightest bit tipsy) when you finally got into bed to find his response gentle, in his own matt-kind-of-way, with your image loved and a grayed bubble text reading: "Very pretty, thank you"
"thanks, drea. they were a bitch to make." water drowns out your voice as you start to wash your hands in the deep sink. you run your soapy fingers over a small cut you got when dealing with an irritating cardboard box earlier, finding the stinging of the hot water a wonderful kind of bitter that further plays into your foul mood.
"mmm... i'm sure. but it's not like you can even tell. they almost look store-bought," she attempts to flatter you, turning her head from the packaged desserts to offer a smile.
when you're sweet you're the most ripe, juicy peach, eveyone knows this. but god, when you're feeling down you really are the most cranky, green apple that could force a pucker onto even the most undaunted. your face is dragged of any aloofness or sunshine with your dry response as she turns to resume her breakfast, "uh huh. you don't have to coddle me. i'll get over myself soon, i promise." you dry your hands.
andrea would argue she's not coddling only looking out for your well being- because she wants to and knows if she were neglecting her needs you'd be right on her ass as well, "okay...and did you eat?"
"just like, a bagel before i left," you open the fridge and let the door hang open as you walk across the kitchen to grab the cake boxes and set them inside. you make sure to mind your feet, noticing figaro nosily has his furry face lifted to sniff into the side door.
she strings some sarcasm into her sentiment, "oh yum." she pauses, letting the sizzle of the egg and (now faint) music linger in the air before she speaks again, "how about you go take a shower or do something that'll make you feel a little better?"
"you know i would but being around my favorite roommate is already making me feel sooo much better!" you deliver the dry joke with a smile and pick up figaro when you shut the fridge door with an accidental slam.
she turns to look at you over her shoulder as she grabs two glass plates for the both of you, scolding you like a mother (as she tended to transform into at times like this due to her essentially parenting her younger siblings) "y/n, you're only fighting yourself, go ahead now."
౨ৎ
matt can hear chris' voice only grow louder and pound against the hallway walls but assumes he is heading anywhere but the space that matt's in, deciding to continue brushing his teeth instead.
he'd only be so lucky on his birthday.
"but yeah-" chris interrupts himself to knock and barely wait for an answer before he walks into matt's sleek bathroom. "matt's here!" his phone is carelessly thrown in front of matt's face (with a frothing mouth and irritated eyes) before he has truly registered anything that has happened.
he truly wants to roll his eyes infinitely but when he sees his mother is the one on the phone, his grumpy front is quickly wilted and a glimmer kisses his spirit in a way only she could produce.
it's clear she hadn't expected matt to be in the middle of something as personal as brushing his teeth when she first sees him, "oh, hi matt!" she understands him well enough to know he absolutely hates this (this being chris unnecessarily close to him as he hunches over to keep matt's face in the camera) so she attempts to amuse him, "wow, you're really showing your age now, aren't you? just looking so put together and nice." she laughs to herself as matt tries to not smile whilst brushing, holding his index finger up to indicate that he would address her with words in only a moment.
"chris, honey, why'd you bring me to your brother when he's busy, anyway?! now we're just watchin' him brush his teeth and the angles you're givin' me are so awkward," she emphasizes her sentence as it goes on.
chris turns the phone back to himself, "because you told me to show him?!"
"no, i said 'where's matt?'" she corrects him in jest.
"okay, so am i incorrect in saying that there was an implication-?"
matt dries his face with a towel and grabs the phone scolding chris, "hey we get it, smartass-" he turns to look at her again with a smile, "sorry mom."
"mhm," she dismisses, "when's this party of yours starting?"
"soon i think," matt moves around chris to exit the bathroom, leaving chris (literally) in the dark.
"okay and how's your birthday been so far?" he smiles knowing how excited she's always been about these things.
"good, i don't feel any different. just doin' the same stuff, except today there's way more people sending me texts and pretending the care about me." matt places the phone against a bowl full of chips in the kitchen, waving when he notices chris followed him.
"get down here nick, mom's on the phone!" chris yells, coming into frame and leaning on the counter. "jeez, matt's masochism can't give any of us a break even on days literally made for our happiness. you hearin' this kid ma?"
matt shakes his head, pointing to chris with his handful of chips, "spell masochism."
chris' eyes pinch and before their mother or chris himself reply, nick is running over to them with a smile and yell of "im heree!!"
she's has the much-expected motherly urge to cry seeing her three sons (whom she rarely sees anymore) all in the same frame, "aw, hi nicky! just look at you boys...so sweet."
it only takes another second before she's crumbling in tears. their smiles drop as chris grabs his phone. they all begin spilling out the most comforting phrases they know to cheer her up.
౨ৎ
"okay people! cake is coming through! everyone move. move, move...precious cargo right here and your ass is in the way!" asha yells and shines her phone's flashlight into the faces in the crowded living room as she ushers the girls to the kitchen.
she earns a few glares that she happily dishes back and a few mumbles of "bitch" once she's walked past that has remi "accidentally" stepping on a certain people's shoes while following asha's lead.
the modern open kitchen hosts plenty of drinks and snacks as well as a worried nathan, who's shirt is barely on his torso from the amount of buttons he's undone since stepping foot in the wild space. "oh thank god the cake's are here," he sighs with a throw of his head before frantically moving a platter of chips and guac (that someone was actively eating from) and a few six packs from the island to the opposite counter, encouraging the girls to place them down with an awkward nod of his head and harsh blink of his eyes.
asha holds back a laugh at nate's odd vibe as she moves next to him, nudging his shoulder, "what's wrong with you?"
"nothing," his head whips to look at her, "well, i mean, think 'm just nervous." he starts slow but it seems he needed someone to finally prompt him to share such a frustrated rant, "like- chris comes to me and asks me to throw him the best party. yet he doesn't give me shit to work with besides his home to host it in-" he breathes, "and 'm feelin' all the pressure of planning a party right now but, you know, i just need things to go smooth and then i'll be fine..." he runs a hand through his hair, "you ladies don't worry about me." he fakes a smile and gives a small wave of his wrist to show just how "fine" he is.
coinciding with nate's rant, you've began to pour a hefty amount of vodka and lemon juice (you absolutely scoured the fridge for) into a large glass. you hand it off to andrea with a pleading "mix" as you lick the remaining lemon juice from your thumb and open cabinets to search for shot glasses.
you line up a multitude of shot glasses with various cities labeled on them as andrea pours the mixture in carefully. you immediately bring one up to nathan, "lemon drop?"
"yes, please. no way your a fucking bartender and baker?" nate's eyes widen as he receives the small glass.
"no, definitely not. just live with a girl whois always making her own drinks at home," you smile and grab your own glass as the rest of the girls follow suit.
"i need this right now," remi starts, "let's cheers to drea's DIY shit and nathan making it through the rest of the night!" she woops and the group all let out various chuckles.
"a-fuckin'-men!" nate leans to clink the small glasses softly before taking the shot quickly. he barely recovers from the shot before he's pouring more vodka into his glass and taking a second.
you get the best view of chris turning the corner and seeing you all (his reaction is more specifically for andrea) have arrived. his jaw hangs dramatically as he walks over but quickly turns to a big smile when the group all start to sing happy birthday to him. "stop it! stop it!" he jokes and begins to give out hugs and thank each of you for coming. he stops and squeezes you extra tight, bringing up the cakes sat nearby, "i know that bakery anywhere. thank you for my cake."
"of course, i had to," you smile.
"no seriously, you're fuckin' awesome, girl." you can tell he's already a little buzzed from the look in his eyes but you also know he's almost more truthful than ever when drunk.
you notice that when he leaves you to finally greet your roommate, it's very clear he's purposely left andrea last to ensure there would be no rush on his interaction.
the rest of the group leave them to their own world for a moment; as the two hug chris gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering "hi, mi cariña (my darling)" an inside joke between the two of them as chris' struggle with speaking spanish never fails to make andrea laugh.
౨ৎ
"okay, okay, i'll do it," matt finally gives in, lifting himself off of the black couch with people piled on top of it. he hands his drink over to elijah smoothly and begins to playfully rub his hands together.
"'hold my beer' headass," elijah jokes placing the cup off on a side table next to him. matt stops any movement, turning his torso to look back at the boy and start to laugh while holding both middle fingers up.
"matt," erin taps him with the side of her arm twice to get his attention again, handing him the second wii remote in her hands. the screen appears extra bright in contrast to the dimness of the room which causes matt to wonder how the fuck anyone has managed to play just dance in this space without getting a sudden head rush or worse.
"okay, let's do timber because it's classic," she suggests.
"let's not," matt opposes, his hand covering his mouth to hide a grin before running his cursor over the other choices.
erin looks over to him with a blank expression, "i mean i don't care that much you can-"
"'m joking, we'll do timber," matt looks from her to the colorful screen to find the song once more.
when he notices she's stiil looking over at him with an unreadable expression, matt smiles big attempting to not laugh, causing his already-slim eyes to pinch a little extra as he turns to her, "hey e, the screen's right up there, you won't be getting much direction from starin' at me-" he breaks into obnoxious laughter mid-way through his sentence which earns him a small smack on the arm.
erin laughs a little now, "would you stop it? just click 'a' on your fucking remote."
he does as she says and looks to her as the screen loads, "thereee we go, you can cool down now, sweetheart."
as the two dance both matt and his friends make one-off comments and jokes about the many times matt almost fell (and would make sure to blame it on the rug or his shoes). they seem to be having such a great time that you don't know if you only being there for the final few lines of the song, watching erin ride matt's back as they spin in circles laughing, is fortunate or unfortunate.
the claps and whistles are wild when the two finish with a bow, the crowd around them only getting louder when matt teases that he's so hot he might have to take off his shirt, lifting it slightly then putting it back down and calling them pervs. you only shake your head and bite back a smile, hating how fucking charming he is when he allows himself to be completely lost in a good time.
matt would say you snuck onto the sectional couch- because a minute ago you weren't there and now here you are talking elijah's ear off and taking repeated hits of his blunt.
but you wouldn't say you snuck into his area, rather walked in a manner in which you'd be out of his and erin's way- of course not taking away from the birthday boy and his...good friend. so you're a bit surprised he slumps on the couch next to you and not in his original spot on the opposite side of eli, "sunnnyy," he huffs and leans his head back against the couch, "when'd you get here, huh?"
you turn to look at him and he smiles at you then looks up to the ceiling, "think an hour ago? maybe?" you hand him the blunt.
"cool, cool, cool..." matt repeats cutting himself off by placing it in his mouth. he's dressed so stylish and attractive you can't help but scan over him with your eyes; his jersey-style shirt showing off his armfuls of tattoos, baggy jeans, car keys hanging on a cheetah print clip attached to his belt loop, shoes that look straight out of the box, a matching hat that you honestly wish he'd take off, and his signature silver jewelry brightening his attributes in the otherwise dark room.
he makes the slightest "tsss" sound when breathing in the drug before speaking with smoke plummeting from his mouth, "you should dance next," he brings it back to his mouth for a final hit.
"mmm maybe...if lucas is up for it," you play with the metal can of a wine cooler that you hold on your bare knee as matt leans over you to hand an occupied eli his blunt back, his laugh trails smoke out of his mouth and into your face as he slouches back next to you.
"forgot you're fuckin, hilarious! holy shit." his hand makes its way up his own shirt to rest on his stomach as he giggles.
a smile grows on your face, "no seriously is he here?" you lift yourself up a little and pretend to look for the familiar face.
"stop that." matt chuckles and tugs your wrist gently. you almost get nervous this time when you look him in the eyes. when he's drunk, matt is so carefree and giggly in a way you rarely get to see. and now you’re starting to notice how the poor lighting makes his features appear arched and his face look carved into, yet the jagged becomes soft and fuzzy whenever the gumdrop-colored lights of the wii game hit his face with the beat of the song. he notices your staring and lets go of your wrist, "what's up?"
"nothing."
"excuse me everyone! i would like to give a speech! hello, i am giving a speechhh! everyone shut up, please!" nick projects his voice into the microphone- he stole from the karaoke machine -while standing on a dining room chair.
as people start to calm down nick speaks, "right, so, it's my fuckin' birthday!” he raises his arms and dances his fingers before pointing out matt, “and it's matt's fuckin' birthday, right over there! let's get some flashlights pointing over to my brother please!" matt’s face flushes as he covers his eyes from the sudden bright lights. you squint your own eyes from next to him and move closer to eli to avoid the flashes.
"and it's chris' fuckin' birthday..." nick looks around, "i couldn't tell you where exactly he is, just know that he is also here tonight!” the crowd roars, “anyway... i'm so- so happy to have you all with us tonight to celebrate. we turn twenty fucking three and... that feels so old saying it out loud. holy shit." nick cringes obnoxiously, slurring his next few words, "but i love my two best friends in the whole world: chris and matt, i wouldn’t wish to share a birthday with anyone else… and i love all of you thank you again. oh! and shout out nathan for holding this shit down! if you see nathan give him something... i don't know- money? a kiss? a drink? fuck if i know." as nick speaks cameron nudges him with a shot glass which he finally acknowledges, "and apparently this is a toast now so, you know, here's to getting older and having the most fun forever!" he raises the glass in the air and drinks it without further thought, inviting everyone to do the same while cheering and applauding him in excitement.
you raise your wine cooler and let out many cheers along with the rest, but of course matt ridicules you a little in jest, "really? you sit here and 'woo' while i'm going blind?!" he’s still wiping at his eyes, dealing with the aftermath of bright lights shining in his eyes; his vision tainted with faint blue and red splotches only for a second. you lean closer to him, attempting to see his eyes better while uncontrollably laughing.
"are you crying?!"
matt thinks you look really pretty even when you're quite literally pointing and laughing in his face. you move his hands away from his face and he widens his eyes dramatically, "look, no 'm not!” you shake your head in response, “does really it look like it?"
you notice his bottom eyelashes are slightly clumped and you move your hand closer, placing your thumb under his eye, "baby, that's damp!" you giggle and pull his hand close, using your thumb to draw a wet line across his tattooed wrist to prove your point.
he drags out his first word, "alrighttt. whatever! you got me, sweet girl. ‘cause god forbid i have the ability to cry?!” pulling away from you with a smile as he dries his eyes by rubbing them gently.
matt excuses himself with a quick "gonna go grab another drink or somethin'" before he does something irrational like kiss you in front of all these fucking people.
౨ৎ
you carefully open each of the packaged cakes, each revealing the boys' full names written in cursive with the uniquely styled and colored buttercream frosting you made that very morning. you used the same shades to make the puffed frosting border of the cakes, for an easy, soft garnish. remi follows behind you, lighting candles on the cakes as you go.
there's a chaos that comes with trying to gather this many (drunk) people in one area and capture their attention long enough to sing then cut cakes. it doesn’t help that the hosts are at their most unserious themselves; matt and nick both snickering and making jokes while holding onto each other while chris talks to one of his friends off to the side with his obnoxiously loud voice without regard for anyone around him.
“okay, people we’re singing!” nathan attempts to yell over the loudness of the crowded room. you and remi are then in the position of getting the attention of the birthday boys who can’t focus on the task at hand, leaving you both to snap your fingers and call them as if you were attempting to take photos of a stubborn baby.
you truly wish it didn’t irk you so terribly but you can’t help your annoyance when matt looks over to erin after she shouts from next to you, “matt, can you pay attention? your cake’s ready,” and he listens, moving nick off of him with a shoulder nudge and laugh as he approaches the row of cakes.
you recover quickly with a smile once both matt and nick’s eyes widen and mouths hang open in awe of your hard work, “s’perfect,” matt whispers to himself, now adjusting his hat to fit backwards.
“oh my god, the wax got in my cake! what the fuck,” nick whines and that cues drea to tug chris’ arm softly and urge him with a hushed, “chris ven aquí (come here)!”
and he's is down so terribly that he moves to where she wants him immediately.
chris is a known sap, especially when wasted, so he’s stood fighting the urge to cry when taking in the scene in front of him: his brothers and friends gathered together to celebrate their twenty three years of life together.
he tucks his lip into his mouth and looks down at the burning flame, slowly smiling when everyone around them begin to sing a rendition of happy birthday with all the charmingly bad high notes and run on “you”s but not forgetting to crunch all three names into a single line.
midway through the song, chris leans to hug matt in comfort while sneaking a reach into matt’s back pocket to grab the slim joint he just knew would be there. he grins to himself, “sweet! free j and free light,” placing it into his mouth as he leans over his cake to spark the joint hanging in his mouth with as much precision as possible. andrea shakes her head in confusion while filming on her phone beside to you.
“dude,” matt lets out a breathy laugh while waving his hand to clear the atmosphere of the potent smoke. sudden applause recognizing the end of the song and leading the three to blow out their candles.
matt gave up on birthday wishes a while into his teen years and nothing changes this year; he blows his candles out and claps along with the crowd before accepting his joint from chris for a few puffs of celebration.
you watch in amusement as nathan distracts the boys with shots to get them away from the cakes as andrea begins to cut. except no shot could beat the view of andrea bent over the counter like she is now, so chris is practically on top of drea with annoying whines of “i wanna see,” when she asks him to be careful and wait a second.
you, however, are actively searching for the spiked punch that elijah recommended when you run into erin and matt talking. they both look to you with different expressions as you squeeze yourself by them to get to the punch bowl.
you remind yourself that erin is your friend, not your enemy. nor your competition. meaning you also have to remind yourself that matt is some guy you fuck around with, not your boyfriend.
you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in while grabbing a plastic cup and using a small ladle to pour the peach colored liquid for yourself. instead of flat-out staring at the two, you take turns looking from them to your cup. you watch as they pose for a picture; erin taking his hat to place on her own head and matt smiling next to her. and another with her kissing his cheek as he laughs.
it’s upsetting- no, humiliating to you. and how especially humiliating that your first thought is whether he’ll dismiss you for erin when you ask him to fuck you later tonight? you blame the weed for getting you so worked up over minutiae interactions.
you’re brought out of your daze in the most humbling of ways: a sudden splash hits your bare foot and covers your black kitten heels in the sticky juice. “fuck,” you groan and place the ladle back into the punch bowl, taking a large sip of your overflowing drink as you look down at the puddle of pink you’re standing in.
you find a towel laying nearby and lower yourself to fumble and wipe your shoe.
“damn y/n, you like my punch that much?” a voice asks from next to you.
you look up and see lucas smiling down at you, “you made it?” you ask genuinely as he helps you rise to standing again.
“no,” he smiles and you roll your eyes, “but im wondering how you managed to spill any with this itty bitty fucking ladle?” he jokes, lifting the ladle and watching it pour the small bit of juice it managed to gather back into the bowl.
“i just wasn’t paying attention,” you laugh and sip your drink again.
“mhm…why’s that?” he squints his eyes down at you.
you tap two of your french tip fingernails against your skull, “so much is happening up here.”
“like what?”
“i don’t knowww,” you smirk and look away to take another sip of your drink.
“well, i know you look sexy as fuck in this dress right now. look at you,” he wets his lips and offers his hand to you with a grin, showing off a few of his shining tooth gems.
you try to maintain your composure and not smile too big but it’s a challenge when he playfully gets you to spin slowly for him and show off the tiny strapless dress you have on as he “oouu”s and whistles to hype you up.
“mm, you like that?” you look up at him, blinking slowly.
he nods and chuckles, “you know damn well-” looking off to the side then gaining your eye contact once more as he wipes over his mouth with his hand, glancing over your body, “‘course i do.”
"good. we should dance then," you guide him to the living room with his hand still in yours.
౨ৎ
you hate to be the bitch on her phone at a party but you can’t stop staring at it. you tap past the story then go back to look again. you even rewatch it in the perspective of someone who hadn’t been there to see the photo taken to see how it would be perceived. hurting your own feelings knowing they could very well assume matt to be erin’s boyfriend with how close they’re standing and her lips against his face.
it’s very dizzying and ruining your high quite a bit, especially paired with andrea who continues to look to you to celebrate after every ping pong ball she throws whether she makes it or not.
you go to rewatch the story once more, only this time a text from matt slides down on your screen to interrupt your sulking:
MATT
Hey come here
Y/N
where???
MATT
Outside youll see me
you let andrea know you’re going outside for air before walking over to a glass sliding door to let yourself out.
you see matt holding a stick while looking down at his phone, fire pit radiating next to him, a mass of people surrounding it.
your arms wrap and hold onto your shoulders as you walk closer, feeling the breeze rack through your body despite the internal heat from the many drinks you've had over the course of the night.
as you approach, asha gets up from her spot on nick's lap to give you a hug, "y/n! hiii." she pulls away and her hands remain on your shoulders, "your cake was so delicious, i tried a bite of each."
"oh good, 'm glad." you smile.
she feels your hands, "are you cold, babe? come sit." she guides you over to the group of people sat around the fire. "you can take my spot, i'll stand," she insists and nick agrees smiling kindly.
you interrupt matt's texting to figure out why he wanted you here, cupping your hands to shout, "matt!" across the lawn from your spot atop nick.
he looks over and quips his head while moving closer, "hey, was just wonderin' if you'd try my s'more? nick thinks he makes them best." he smiles but you can't help but feel that there's a catch to this.
"always gotta prove someone wrong. yeah, i'll do it." you agree as he moves to grab the snack he'd apparently already prepared.
nick mutters, "don't let him bully you into liking his, and don't forget who's acting as your chair currently!" from behind you as you giggle into the bite that matt gives you, holding the smore in his hand up to your mouth.
you chew slowly and matt watches, chatter and crinkles of the fire filling the heated space. you finally nod your head and matt smirks, "so good, right?" matt asks and brings his hand to hold your face and wipe around the corner of your mouth, looking to his right with a smile then back to you.
you feel awkwardly and unnaturally sensual, moving his hand away from your face and searching for what he's looked over to, catching the eye of lucas, standing with a group of guys lighting up near a fence. so that is the fucking catch.
you lick your lips of any remaining marshmallow and shake your head, annoyed, "i don't know, it tastes normal and graham cracker is fucking stale." you look up at him and his face is adorned with confusion on your change of heart.
you feel too fucking weird about this. you wish you couldn't believe that he'd use your feelings towards him for some weird shit like claiming you from lucas, but it's not surprising in the slightest; matt wants his cake yet he'll always want to eat it too.
"yeah, nick wins." you pat the side of nick's thigh to grab his attention and tell him the news, making him cheer and bring you into his chest for a small hug.
matt's lips form the smallest pucker as he watches you get up and walk towards the house without further conversation.
"bye, y/n!" asha yells.
౨ৎ
matt lays flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling to try and organize his many thoughts when his door creaks slightly, allowing a roar of party chatter into his space before it shuts again.
he lifts only his head up to see erin stood with a small smile before letting himself fall back into his plush comforter, "hey, i got your shit in the first drawer over there." he points to a tall dresser across the room.
he listens to her shuffle around before finding a large bag of weed, coming close to him and placing a few folded bills in his front pocket slowly. she then moves so that she hovers over his dazed face, "thank you, are you sure you don't need anything else from me? it is your birthday..." she grins and runs a hand over his chest. he mimics her smile (intended in more of a mocking way than she takes it) and laughs softly.
"no, i'm good on that, e. you enjoy your doobies and shit," he continues to softly laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides before she thanks him again and gives him a small peck.
"happy birthday, matty!" she sings before closing the door to his room and heading straight to his bathroom next door to pee.
matt would say it hasn't even been four minutes since erin left him when you're stumbling into his room. he repeats his look up, only to soften a bit when he sees you make effort to move some of his shoes out of the walkway so that you don't trip, "hi, baby" he waves you over with his fingers and welcomes you as if you'll be staying for long, "lock that door for me." he figures if you came to see him after storming away like that at the fire pit you're either gonna spit your thoughts in his face or sit on his face, there's no in between.
"i found you," you smile and twist the smaller knob to lock the door from the rowdiness. you then make your way over to sit at the end of his bed and begin to fiddle with the straps on your tiny heels, "my feet have been achin' so bad," you look at him as you complain.
"mm, i'm sure."
when your feet are finally free from your shoes you place them on the ground and adjust yourself on the bed. you silently grimace seeing matt with his shoes remaining on his feet despite being on his bed.
he giggles when you begin to unlace them, "feel like a fuckin' princess."
you roll your eyes and begin to pull them off, "with the way you act you might as well be one."
"ouch? it's my birthday," he holds his heart while looking to you playfully.
you tilt your head and drop his second shoe right on the floor as you stare back at him, "oh, i know."
"right. what's wrong now?"
you run your hands along his legs as you inch up his body and hover yourself over his crotch, "nothing. everything's fine, right?" you adjust your hair away from your face.
"sure, uh huh," matt looks up at you and bites his lower lip while moving his hands to hold and squeeze your full thighs. he silently admires the way you fill that tiny dress and look down at him from this angle.
you look away for a moment then decide to put your full weight onto matt, muffled groan leaving his mouth. your lips curve up as you pull his bottom lip from his mouth with your thumb to replace it with your mouth, sucking and kissing it. your tongue runs over his lips a few times before matt takes hold of your head and pulls you impossibly closer to capture your mouth messily with his own.
the kiss is a filthy, drunken sight: noses meshing and colliding, tongues playing and licking, and moans escaping and ringing into the air desperately.
you pull away with a wet smack and whisper into his lips, "i've got another present for you..."
"mmm?" his eyes widen and he squeezes your neck gently, kissing you once more, "for real? like, more than this?!" his hand feathers over your ass, insinuating the way you're sat on top of him right now could easily be his best gift tonight.
"yes," you breathe then begin to giggle, "you're gonna lose your shit, i think."
his mind can think of a lot of things you could do to make him lose his shit, "damn, okay. well, show me. you got my stomach dancin' and shit." he holds you so that you stay put as he lifts himself to rest on his elbows.
your smile bites over your bottom lip now as you raise yourself from his lap once more. your nail taps against your upper thigh as you look down at him, "kiss, please?"
he doesn't have to move much, as your leg is already so close to his face. he keeps heated eye contact with you when he kisses and marks the skin you'd point to, causing small mindless noises to fall from your mouth as you play with his soft hair (that you unfortunately hadn't seen much of tonight).
when he's finished he looks up to you with his red, puffy eyes and wet lips as you thank him, "now...pay attention." you gently demand as you slowly move your dress up your body.
matt studies your movement in awe, eventually catching your gift in his line of sight. he knows you must think you're so sneaky when you only show a glimmer of your lacy white panties, with a cursive red "M" embroidered near the waistband, before quickly pushing your dress back down with an uncontrollable laugh.
matt's face morphs to express a million different emotions and he doesn't realize how loud his voice is when he speaks, "what the fuck?!" he looks up at you- with your head thrown back laughing -then back to your covered lower half. "what was that? hold the fuck on," you body is so loose with laughter that he easily grabs you and flips you onto the bed so that you lay underneath him, still squirming in your own giggles (yelling a few "matt!"s or "matt wait i can't breathe!"s).
his face is full of amusement when he firmly lifts your dress to get a better look at what you've done for him. "oh my god, 'm gonna pass the fuck out. look at you, sunny!" he rubs his eyes dramatically and shakes his head. "no, you're so bad."
"you like it?" you ask, licking over your lips and reaching your hands up to trace the small hairs prickling on matt's jawline.
"course i do, the fuck type of question is that?!" he turns his face to kiss your inner palm before bending closer to kiss your lips once more.
"happy birthday, matt." you say in between kisses, "there's somethin' else if you look a little more."
"really?" he immediately splits from you and looks to your panties once more, running his hands over your lower stomach. the cherry red joint laying against your hip and tucked into your underwear catches him by surprise but the stoner in him nearly cums on the spot.
he removes it from it's place and kisses you mumbling a reminder that "you're so hot" and "the marijuana bug must've bit you real bad" before he gets up to store it in his bedside table, patting the closed drawer and joking, "for when i miss you."
he stands above you for an extra second to shake his head slowly with a tut, but when you whine "c'mereee," he's hushing you and removing his shirt before crawling back on top of you.
your hands run across every inch of his warm torso as you both sloppily kiss, and matt's own hands curiously make their way into your underwear for a proper feel of your wet core.
he allows you to desperately grind your hips against his hand until he eventually decides he needs to taste you. he lowers himself to face your clothed pussy, tracing the "M" with a finger as he places his tongue flat against you and places pressure on your most sensitive area.
his finger once tracing, now moves to pull the tiny piece of fabric off of you. he looks into your eyes as he easily stuffs the cloth in his back pocket, mumbling "mine now" while moving his fingers through your sticky folds.
you cry out when he dips two fingers into you teasingly, over and over again, and another series of moans leaves your mouth when he begins to lick over your clit eagerly.
matt continues his efforts, spitting on your clit a few times to watch it drip down to where his fingers harshly move inside of you; his movements quickening while he watches.
and just before you cum you dumbly warn him, which makes him stop entirely. "no, matt. stop, please come back. please."
"shhh. don't start that shit, you'll cum twice on your day..." he unbuttons his pants, "plus, you know it feels so much better when you wait and have to chase it a few times." he smirks and nudges your clit with his finger once more making you breathe out a moan and close your legs around his hand.
he pulls away from you to finish undressing before laying back dowm in his tight boxers, "come take care of me, sunny. i need you."
"hm...and i needed you too..." you lift yourself up and pout as you climb off the bed and get closer to where he lies, turning and moving your hair away for your back, "unzip me, please?"
he does just as you say and watches you finish removing your dress in only one movement. when you climb on top of him he now gets a view of your tits directly in his face that has him humming and immediately feeling you up.
he kisses and licks the skin while you scratch at his scalp in the most sensual way. you reach behind you to dip your hand into his boxers, immediately coming in contact with his sensitive and slightly sticky tip. he tilts his head back with a groan as soon as you begin to stroke him beneath the fabric making a sinical smile form on your face.
you push the boxers further down his thighs to fully expose him as you bring your lips down to him again. his moans flow into your mouth when you repeatedly rush your movements then slowly circle his head.
eventually matt's eyebrows pinch in terribly tight and he grabs your hand, sighing, "god damn, baby. chill or i'll be cummin' before i'm inside you."
you roll your eyes playfully, "okay?" as you adjust yourself to align over his length, before sinking down on top of him.
"mmm, fuck." he encourages when you lift yourself and slam back down on top of him. you move his hands to hold your hips then spread your hands over his chest as you continue.
matt can't help but slap your ass a few times after discovering the way your muscles flutter around him so perfectly each time. but one smack in particular aids you to practically fall onto his chest whining, "matt i can't, please just-."
he immediately lifts your face to give him a much needed kiss before reaching to realign himself and hold onto you as he thrusts rhythmically into you.
moans sneak from your mouth and interrupt you from kissing and holding onto matt's neck, which only encourage matt until he's completely flustered and drilling into you sloppily.
matt can tell you're cumming by your all too and familiar broken moans. and once you harshly kiss him and ask him to let go in return he finally stills inside of you and groans into your soft shoulder.
a silence coats the room, leaving the overpowering music and talking of the party to linger through the air in a cloudy murmur.
matt keeps his arms around you while you recover from your high, staring at the ceiling of his faintly lit room in questionable thought.
and he assumes you must be doing the same; only he mistakes the wetness of your tears for his own sweat as you turn your head away from him to dissolve your embarrassingly shaky breaths.
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆🎱˚
tag list is in the replies ily!!!!
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Aita for not making any of my characters, that I have to crank out daily, pansexual/polysexual/omnisexual specifically and only making them bi?
🏳️‍🌈👶🏼 so i can recognize this later lmao also I'm not panphobic or anything, this isn't about the validity of the label, pan is fine.
So i (20snb bi) have a project I'm working on where I take all the characters from a specifc media I'm into and pair them up with each other to make every possible ship kid from every possible ship(excluding characters who are kids themselves or are related or something, that shit is gross). Basically taking every character and pairing them up with another and creating a kid I think they'd have. Its a big project with lots of characters and I'm easily over 400 at this point. I really enjoy this, even if I'm not even 25% complete.
However I set a schedule for myself that at least one ship kid needs to come out each day which, considering I draw them, color them and give them some development and some even have siblings, (The refs themselves easily take me an hour to an hour and a half) I have to make lots of them quickly to keep up with my daily grind. I've been doing this project for over a year and although it's stressful, I can get them out quickly with breaks for myself.
Their character sheets all have some pretty basic info like their name, gender, pronouns, personality and more but it also includes their sexuality/orientation. I have a pretty basic list of options for what their sexuality will be: straight, lesbian, gay, Enbian, bi, Aro, ace and aroace with a few random things like polyam, WLW and a good amount of the something-loving-something/juvelic terms. I did this because, well, there's not many entirely unique orientations outside of them and although I love mogai/xenogenders and complex identities, I dont want to potentially drag up discourse or bring problems to my budding art blog over it. Its just not worth it to me to turn something I really care about on its head, even if I like microlabels.
In this case, I'm using bi as an umbrella term as most of the other terms share the same definition with slight variations in wording or action but not much difference in practice. We all like everyone, it's basic stuff. However, apparently this is a problem.
I've gotten one or two anons asking me questions about my guides asking some kind stuff like is this lesbian ship kid a butch or femme or Is this picture of them now or just at the age you put on the ref and other harmless stuff. Then things got rude with some Nbphobia but thrice now I've gotten asks:
1. Asking snarkily if im a panphobe
2. insulting me for not specifically writing pan or Omni and just writing bi.
3. Saying that I "clearly dont care about pansexual representation." Then brought up how my primary oc is native american so i clearly care about representation but that oc used to be a sona and I'm native?? Its confusing. (And Lowkey racist shit to just assume any native character is a "diversity quota" character instead of just a person existing but I digress-)
Im not pan, im bi so ig these people assume I'm not cool with pan people which isnt true? I have nothing aginest them, they are just pretty similar and I dont feel like it matters if they are specfically bi or pan or poly or any other label. I don't go into details like that for any other sub-group, not even pronouns and I included combinations and some common Neopronouns. I understand the importance of representation but my project has less than 50 people looking at it every day, Im not netflix or something. I'm one guy on the most LGBT blogging site with a big project and very little audience, I'm not showing people who wouldn't already know what pan is that pansexuality exists.
This project isn't that deep considering the characters in question aren't human/dont have human characteristics.(no it's not hazbin/helluva) Also ive never spoken about lgbt discourse or stated anything remotely close to it beyond the guides just passively having characters who are an LGBT identity. I've not even mentioned all the potentional orientations they could have so I'm not sure where/why this came up in the first place. The most politcial things ive said are calling out a creator in my fandom who outed themselves as a transphobe and mentioning im pro-palestine. That's it.
I mean this is pretty low stakes, I can just block these people and be done with it and this some seriously online shit but I just wanna check.
Am I being an asshole for just writing bi instead of specifying their mspec label because I have to produce characters quickly and I don't see enough of a difference to warrant a change/specification that would ultimately slow and clog an already stressful and complex project?
I dont think I am but idk lol
What are these acronyms?
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
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Jungkook
𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back): Soft 🔞
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It's his favorite word to describe you.
Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute, smut in this, manhandling, he cums inside but she's got an IUD please practice safe bed-athletics thank you, we explore Jungkook's hidden kinks together haha
Length: 1.4k Words
Masterlist
A/N: There's still no taglist.
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Soft.
It's the perfect word to describe you, in his opinion. From your skin to your hair to the way you smell or touch him. Soft.
It's been a little over half a year since dating you, and there's already been changes happening with him. His mom had noticed the way he carries himself changing, had told him earlier this week how much confidence he'd apparently gained- and it had been then that he'd told her he's finally found a girlfriend. He's never brought anyone over to his parents before, way too worried about how it might look like if he and his partner would change frequently, just because he's not good at choosing the right people to surround himself with. So, revealing that he's got a girlfriend had been a huge thing to his entire family.
But he doesn't actually feel worried at all. You're the sweetest thing he's ever met- it's just the first impression you give that can sometimes be a little too bold.
But he doesn't mind any of your antics. You're honest- and he appreciates that.
And he can't deny that your love isn't exciting in other ways, too.
You've made a joke about him being the best lover you've ever had up until this point- but from the way you arch your back and close your eyes, he's got to believe that there was some truth to it. You're completely out of it, underneath him as he thrusts his hips into yours, hands on your thighs keeping you in place for him. They're soft, too- just like the sounds you make.
He's become more comfortable and confident in that aspect, too. Sex.
It's been somewhat of a necessity almost in past relationships- something he'd want to have over and done quick with the lights off because it's just awkward. Everything about it was awkward to him- from the noises to the smell to the act in general-
But with you? It changed. Awakened something even.
You're addicting, in the way that you're just so raw and unfiltered. You don't hide any side of yourself, you're bold and bright and colorful and confident, and you're just so fucking pretty to him that it makes his head spin.
The first time with you had been a little awkward. The second time after, it was a bit more relaxed. On the third, he'd jumped over his shadow and eaten you out for the first time in his life.
And oddly enough, that had changed something within him.
Ever since then, he'd become experimental. Sex in the shower, a handjob in the bathtub, taking you in the back of his car, or buying a remote controlled vibrator for you online just because. He can never just leave it at something simple anymore, has to take you until his body gives out, has started to imagine things one dirtier than the next.
Especially after yesterday, when you'd told him nonchalantly how your IUD insertion had been the most cruel and painful thing you've ever had to go through- and after some questions of his own, he now knows that you still have it.
And right now, he's in bare, without any condom, and he wants, no needs to see that scene that had been haunting his dreams last night in real life for himself.
It had been a thought in his head for a while now. His main fantasy he'd think of whenever he was trying to get off by himself.
And it worked every single time.
"Can I-" He presses out between his teeth, slowing down for just a moment to lean down and kiss your neck, giving you a second to collect your thoughts back again as you squirm, legs wrapping around him as you try and move on your own. "Can I cum inside?" He asks, and you nod instantly.
"Yes, Jungkook just- just move!" You whine, trying to move your hips, but one of his hands instead pushes them down into the bed, your strength not enough to go against him. "Fuck you-" You start to complain, but he's got the audacity to chuckle.
"Though you wanted me to fuck you?" He jokes, and your eyes tear up in frustration, making him move his hands to instead hold your cheeks as he kisses you-
Hips slowly picking up pace again.
"Don't worry, princess-" he hums, making you hold onto his forearms as if to need something to keep you grounded. "-I never let you down, do I?" He wonders, and you nod, quietly. "I always take good care of you, don't I?" He asks, pushing his hips in deep before he stays there. "Right?"
"Yes!" You whine, nails digging into his skin a little as he laughs again, leaning back to straighten his back out, hands grabbing your thighs. He finally moves again, rolls his hips into yours while holding your legs again, skin slapping loudly against skin, but he doesn't care.
All he can see is your back arching, your head pushing back into the pillows, your tits rhythmically swaying up and down with every thrust he delivers. It's a sight he never wants to ever forget, a sight he knows he's blessed enough to witness.
It's a sight that's his to see. It's a sight that only belongs to him. He's never really thought about it, hasn't really been considering him possessive or anything- after all, you're a free spirit, and he allows you to do whatever, really. You can dress how you want, you can playfully flirt with your friends if you like, it's not a big issue to him.
Maybe because at least up until now, he's not really felt like anyone had truly challenged the idea of him being together with you. There's not been any instance of someone trying to take you away from him.
And maybe once that happens, his mind will change a bit.
But right now, he's got you, right in his hands. Right now, you're undeniably his as he clenches his jaw, watches you come undone underneath him, thighs trembling under the force of your orgasm, before he pushes himself in deep, throwing back his head himself for a moment as he reaches his peak as well.
The room is filled with the sounds of your shared heavy breaths, before he pulls out, his own chest still rising and falling with deep breaths. He can't help but reach out as he watches your clenching core, fingers spreading you open for him to see as you jump a little, still sensitive-
but he soon notices the way you move your hips again, toes curling as his thumb begins to more gently coax another, last orgasm out of you-
and then, it happens.
As soon as you come undone, he watches almost hypnotized how his cum starts to run down your core, and it's such a scandalous sight- no porn he's ever watched coming close to this.
"Kook, I'm gonna leak on the bed-" You whine tiredly, as he barely catches what's running down your leg, before his hand pushes it back in, while he leans over your body, kissing your lips, before he moves to your neck, making you giggle as the tips of his hairs tickle your skin.
"Better keep it inside then." He hums against your neck, and you dramatically whine at that.
"Kook please, I'm gonna die!" You complain, and he laughs.
"What?" He chuckles. "I'm just saying." He shrugs.
"You're making me horny again, please stop you demon!" You argue weakly, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Now get off me so I can go pee." You say, and he nods with a smile.
"You better keep it in though, or you might get it on your pretty carpet-" He teases-
a slap sounding through the room as you playfully hit his thigh, making him laugh while he watches you run to the bathroom with one hand between your legs.
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nocturnowlette · 5 months
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The Dragon
The dragon walks up behind me. I'm in a nondescript white room. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all the same material: something ethereal, almost seeming to glow but only when I'm not directly looking. The light emanating from seemingly nowhere seems to infinitely reflect off every surface, making it sometimes hard to tell if the walls are even there, or how big this space really is. Though I haven't turned around, I know it's the dragon. I've seen him before, but I forget where. More importantly, I've felt him before. It feels like it's something I've always known, some part of my DNA, maybe my entire lineage. This dragon's presence is known more to my instincts than my mind. His name is - translated to something I can understand - is Sunny. Though, honestly, I don't think there is a name that can accurately represent a creature like this. He's right behind me now.
I haven't turned around, in a way it doesn't feel necessary. I've known his ears, half cones tapering off to a point at the back. I know his horns, between the two ears, bowed outwards and bending in 90 degree angles. They rise until they're just above the ear, tilting gently forward just past the ears before sharply bending straight backwards, then bending one more time downwards, ending in a sharp point. I know his tail, seemingly large and yet ever-changing in its largeness. Dulled fins, equally spaced, line the top; the bottom half, a lighter pink than his short-furred purple everywhere else, runs with slight waves along its surface. They feel like waves frozen in time. I sense waves of something wash over me. Energy? Pressure? Like a dull droning hum without any sound. It's surrounding me.
As he kneels down behind me, the presence seems to double, then triple in intensity; the air feels tough to move through, and so I don't. Cutting through the invisible waves assaulting my mind, thoughts come flooding to me; Where am I? What is this? What's going to happen to me? A sense of danger starts to creep over me, the hair standing on my back, heart rate increasing- The dragon puts his arms over my shoulders, gently, and places his head over his arm on my left. He seems almost impossibly peaceful. A moving statue. The presence seems to have disappeared entirely, giving me room to think. And yet, I'm paralyzed. All I can really do is stare.
The dragon, whose gaze was near immobile and dull moments before, seems to have the shine of the room gently reflect in his eye. He takes a deep breath in, holding for a short moment, before breathing slowly, slowly out. His breath is a light purple. Due to his snout and head position, the breath is missing me entirely: likely a good thing, perhaps he's purposefully avoiding my nose? We sit there for a while. A few minutes, maybe. He breathes in, slowly, holding it for a moment, then out, slower. I find myself starting to sync with his breaths, so steady that it feels like a gentle rhythm. As much as I don't want to admit it, it's giving some comforting solace in the middle of the confusion. That, and the slight smell of lavender.
The contrast of the artificial coldness of the room and the smell of pure nature is dizzying. Or, something is dizzying. I close my eyes, trying to take in fewer senses and get my mind sorted. He starts to purr. Can dragons purr? Apparently, they can. The rumble has a strong feeling to it, like snoring, but I adjust quickly to it. It reminds me of game controllers and earthquakes and dryers. Definitely dryers. It has that slight rumble to it, like something light is tumbling, and the warmth. I'm surrounded by warmth, like a dense blanket.
The arms around my shoulders are like a scarf, the dragon seeming to be ever closer than before. When did he move? Wait, where am I? Why am I thinking about all of this? I open my eyes. The room looks different. I swear, it does. The color is slightly different, but only in the corners of my vision. A light purple? It smells like lavender. I look to my left again, the breath still steadily pumping out. Is there no ventilation? It feels harder to breathe, like the air is dense. I need to breathe in more, but I'm only getting dizzier. I need to find a way out-
"Breathe in, deeply."
I feel my lungs work on their own, taking a breath that feels impossibly large.
"Breathe out, slowly."
My lungs empty as if there was nothing there in the first place.
My brain feels heavy, exhausted.
"I'm sure it does."
What?
"Don't think too hard."
My thoughts are like molasses.
"Isn't that such a nice feeling?"
It's hard to disagree. It's actually very, very hard.
It feels like I've always loved this feeling.
"You have."
I have?
"Yes. You ask a lot of questions for a pet."
I'm a pet?
The dragon chuckles.
"Of course. Why do you think you're here?"
Why am I here?
"To meet me, officially. You've always known me."
I have?
"You have."
I have.
"There we are. Don't you feel lovely?"
I do.
"Isn't that all that matters?"
It is.
"Good pet. Let's go home, now."
Anything you wish.
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vickyyoon · 6 months
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Paring - best friend hyunjin x fem!reader
Genre : smut, fluff
Warnings : heart melting amount of fluff and very very soft sex.
Synopsis : your best friend always had feelings for you but you never came to know that especially when you found yourself so little next to him.
You were slouched on the couch with your best friend hyunjin's head on your shoulder as you watch a movie that was apparently " super popular and amazing".
Soon you guys got bored and decided to catch up on somethings you guys missed out when he was visiting his grandma.
You ranted and ranted on and on to him about how you were just so single and it burned your skin watching couples. Your family always made you feel left out because of that.
" they always go on group dates with my cousins, relatives, siblings and others. I could be there with them right now but Is it because I'm ugly? Am I not good enough? Why do I have to be single! " you were about to explode in anger.
"like this time again? That's so rude honestly. I mean they're your family" he watched you rant on and on smiling and finding it cute.
" they don't even call me! They just leave me all alone! How hurt could I even be? Why is everyone taken!?" you cry.
You looked like you were about to tear up. And he gave you a comforting hug. You had rare friends that comfort you like him. You always wondered how he was so patient listening to you for hours.
" I find your stories interesting and funny. That's why I like you." making you happy and feel a bit better.
You go to the kitchen and bring out a bucket of ice cream you keep for yourself especially on these days. He watched you shove your mouth and rant on and on... again.
It was entertaining until you brought up a boy. " You remember Lee know? Well I always liked him but he's been so distant I swear I can't reach him. I feel like being with him for the rest of my life but he's always so much better than me and it makes me feel so small" you pout.
" at this rate I'll be single forever. I wish I could get close to him. If school ends how will I ever be with him?!" you were tearing up from that thought.
His face changed too he wasn't smiling like before, he looked a bit hurt. He couldn't even hear you when his mind flood with thoughts.
Such a pretty girl, what a pity she isnt taken. And if you would be his he would be the happiest person in the entire world. He remembered when he was in that same loop hole.
Waking up drenched in sweat with the thought of you being with someone else. He worked so hard just to be your friend. He worked even harder just to be your best friend and now his mind only ached with those memories of how hard he tried.
He liked you since first grade. You were the apple of his eye, A sweet melody played on his mind when he thinks about you. In fact whenever he sees you, he only finds good memories. Like the beautiful scenery of a field of colorful flowers or a dawn where the sun's ray of light hit the waves of the sea on a misty blue morning.
You were his only reason to live. You were his only purpose to find life because he was lost before he found a reason to live.
Today his heart ached to hear such a thing from you. Tears threatened to leave his eyes but he knew very well how much it swells in your heart to not have the person you want close to you because he's been though all of that.
You could tell something was wrong. " H-hyunjin? Is there something wrong?" he shook his head smiling at you.
"No it's just that minho is taken, didn't you know that?" he couldnt believe but he's lying now.
" wah-what? But no one told me!" to add feul to the fire he lies even more. "it seems like they're in deep love too. He said he's planning to propose to her after graduation.I'm surprised you didn't know That" hyunjin said.
"wah-what no! Why? Wh-why is this happening to me?" you were breaking down and he came closer to you and gave you a comforting hug that you cried onto his shoulders in seconds.
" If you're really looking for someone..." he pauses. " you have me. I'm ready to be yours. I've always liked you." you froze in your place.
He pulls out from the hug. He stares at you who was speechless. You know you've always liked him but you always knew that he was never going to be yours especially when he's just your best friend who always looks out for you. You could never loose him so you always pushed that tight far far away so much so you found yourself looking for others to keep yourself distracted.
"I-I'm really sorry if you don't think of me like that." he stumbles over his words ready to leave.
"wait." you grab his wrist sitting him down. "what do you mean you've always liked me?" and he stared at you before telling you how he's spent half of his life just chasing you.
It was the first day of 1st grade that his eyes landed on you. From then he liked you. That feeling grew much bigger by each grade.
" if you remember that field trip in 7th grade where we went to a huge mountain. I only stared at you looking at the mist and fog near the railing of the huge mountain. You looked liked my lost happiness." and from then he chased after you even harder,
Shifting his body, mind, behavior and likings just to be perfect for you.
You just stare at him only wondering how this popular hot boy only ran after you when he was surrounded by pretty people.
"it wasn't just your looks, your smile reminded me of my first time star gazing with my mom. I could remember that moment only when I saw you smile." you flushed.
" it started with just you but then I fell harder for your personality, behavior and kindness. How could you exist? How could a person like you even exist? I only knew I needed you."
This was when he became your best friend. "it didn't mean anything if it meant changing myself for you. I would happily do that to be a better person. Maybe I don't know my real self because I changed for you but I'm happy like this."
You were crying again. You only needed to hug him. " if only you be mine, my soul will rest in peace." he said kissing your forehead and you nod your head in his chest.
---------------------------------------------------
Somewhere in between those tears you two were turning hot and burned from the inside, searching for that one feeling of relief.
Before you knew it, you two were making out. You were on top of him while sat still. Eating each other hungrily.
Out of some intense climax you started grinding on his hard bulge hinting him what you were craving.
You took off your hoodie and your little top, then your pants, underwear and bra. You guys stripped every piece of clothing off of each other.
You could only admire his physique just wondering why you didn't ask him out earlier. This all could have been yours.
He was shaking pulling down his boxers. He came towards you with his hard pink red cock leaking pre cum. It was big.
You were resting your head on the armrest of the couch. He lifts your legs to your chest. Staring at your wet cunt.
He picked up your wet slick and stuck a finger inside. Making you whine at the feeling. He admired your sweaty red flushed face.
He licks your wet cunt, the texture of his tongue shivered you.
You didn't know if the feeling was because of the sensitivity of your first time or the feeling of being fucked by hyunjin made you this mess.
You were whining and whining until he started to pump into you. Lewd moans escaped your mouth.
You were grinding on his fingers. " Pl-please. I just fuck me already." just waiting for him to fit inside you.
Without another word he sticks his cock in you giving you a stretch you think youll never find this good. Before you knew it he was slowly thrusting in you.
" that feels good. I always knew your walls you'd feel good but never thought it would feel as this good." he moaned.
Shit...this wasn't him fucking you. It was him making love to you
His wet lips draped over your entire body. Covering you with marks and wet kisses. Touching everything single soft parts discovering you and your favorite parts.
The feeling was tingling. Even though his thrusts were slow and agonizing, the feeling made you blush harder with every thrust. Just the thought of him in you, and how much he wanted you. You finally felt wanted.
" Y/n I've rejected every single girl I my life, hoping I'd have you one day." he claimed. " and you're not ugly, it was me who warned all the boys off."
Though the confession hurt you, you liked how he did so much just to get to you. " only if you asked me out earlier, I wouldnt have to do this." those words spun in your head.
You realize how he's been hinting you all along but you've never thought of it like that.
" oh please! Mmh- just please go faster." a tear slips down your face.
This pace picks up a bit faster. The feeling has your walls wrapped around him.
" baby please loosen up, I might not last any longer if you keep up like this." he moans his face flushing aswell.
His face is buried in the crotch of your neck and you can feel his burning hot cheeks and sweat. His breathe was shaky and warm.
With every thrust you felt bubbling up, so much closer and closer to your first orgasm.
And him kissing and caressing your face did not help. The thrusts got sloppier and sloppier till it only made wet sounds.
" ahh I-Im close." you chocked on a moan, he moved even faster. Til both of you came together.
Both a panting, shaking mess. The feeling was euphoric, you wanted this every single day. Forget about Lee know.
" now are you still single?" he asked laying beside you looking at you stare at the ceiling.
"then will you be my boyfriend and be only mine?" you chuckled but looking back at him the question was his life. His eyes were teary.
" ye-yes! Ofcourse" he said. And you can see the sparks in his eyes. He really wanted you, and he really needed you. He looked like he won in his life.
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cartoonsbyandie · 12 days
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JOIN ME, IN HELL
I always had this impression that Nakamori's color palette has changed the most dramatically in all of his appearances and I've always wanted to see if that's actually true, because I'm sick in the head and apparently didn't have anything better to do. So here are the results! While this isn't EVERY appearance, it's most of them, and ones I consider important as far as color palettes go.
Quality is a factor on a bunch of these, and so is the lighting of the shots, especially the OVAs which maybe I shouldn't've included since they throw things off a bit. I tried to find decent quality images of Naka in bright indoor lighting, but it wasn't always possible.
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So to my eye, you can separate Naka's 'main' color palettes (and artstyle shifts) based on his suit colors, kinda like Lupin ironically:
Green suit (Ep. 76-515)
Gray/Brown Suit (515-983)
Black suit (1105-onward + all movies from 14 onward)
My other takeaways are:
No one can decide if his hair is black or brown, huh
His skin color's been pretty consistent actually, until recently when they made it darker.
Dunno what was going on with the first Magic Kaito TV special. The art style for the rest of them is nothing like it.
I probably should've ordered these chronologically to get a better idea of how the colors shifted over time. It is interesting to me how Nakamori's color palette for the movies has been consistent since Movie 14, but they didn't change his palette in DetCo to match it until super recently. And then Magic Kaito 1412 is just off doing entirely its own thing.
I most associate Nakamori with wearing green since I think that's what he wears straight through Magic Kaito 1412. If you count every episode he's in as a separate appearance, I think green might technically be the most common, but if you don't then I think brown wins.
Honestly these color palette shifts are probably true for Every character. I don't know why it feels so drastic for Nakamori. Probably because it's not like Rachel's hair randomly turns black for a few hundred episodes.
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frogboy0 · 13 days
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THE HEAVEN CAST!!!!! WHOOOOOOO!!!!!
So first off, we got a redesign for the Exorcist Angel armor. I wanted to keep the colors light so they stand out when in Hell. I was also hugely inspired by Crusades armor, since the Crusades fought for religious territory, I thought taking inspo from there made sense.
Then we have Lute, Emily, Sera and Adam's designs. I'll explain it all under the cut if you're interested!!!
LUTE!!!!!!!!!! Sorry guys but she's basically a different character with the same name at this point
So I think that Lute was like a mentor figure to Vaggie, she was the closest thing Vaggie had to a (sorta) mom but it's defiantly like a student-master relationship.
I think that Vaggie trusted and cared for Lute deeply, she devoted all her time and energy into training in order to make not only Heaven better, but to make Lute proud. Lute was a HUGE driving force Vaggie's martyr complex.
But they were close!!!! The care wasn't just once sided, I think Lute did love Vaggie. I think they both care for each other SO much, that's why it will hurt SO MUCH when it's LUTE as the one to de-wing and banish Vaggie. She LOVED her, she TRUSTED HER!!!!!
Trust that I will be delving deeper into this in the future ✊✊✊
So Emily and Sera's designs and roles in the story are pretty much the same, I liked them in canon! They were fun and offered an interesting addition to the show!!!!
The main thing I chose to change was basically their hair and skin color tbh. I understand what the show was TRYING to do, w the fact that they're supposed to be black (and apparently those are supposed to be dreads in Sera????) but.......... It wasn't good.
With their canon skin color, I know a lot of angels have gray skin but to me, it looked like the designers didn't know whether to make Sera and Emily (especially Sera) gray or flesh colored, which then resulted in them trying to meet it in the middle and left us with this,,,, really ashy looking black skin in some shots which I didn't like.
I decided to just make them a darker gray so they can both be seen as black and also keep consistent with angels having gray skin :)
ALSO THAT ONE DOODLE WITH EMILY LOOKING AT CHAGGIE, I PROMISEEEEEE THAT SHE DOESN'T LIKE EITHER OF THEM LIKE THAT, I JUST DID IT TO BE FUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!
(I think the ship is cute but personally, it's not for me ^^)
And finally..... ADAM!!!!!!!!!!!
So like Lute, Adam is basically a completely different character with that same name just slapped on.
I REALLY didn't like him in the show to be honest. I think we was an enjoyable character at times but he's totally like my second to last fav character (with my LEAST favorite being Lucifer LOL). I think it was an interesting take on Adam definitely!! To see him so cocky and full of himself bc of his title but....... It was just very...... Viziepop with the whole "original dick" thing......
Adam is the literal FATHER of humanity!!!? He is EVERYONE'S FATHER!!!!!! I don't understand the point of making him mean aside from the fact that he's supposed to be an opposing force in the show, but even then, just because he's the opposing force, doesn't mean he's gotta be a huge jerk!!!!!
I think it could be more interesting and add more nuisance to the story is Adam WAS this sweet, caring guy who, like the protagonists, is only doing what he thinks is right!
I'll delve more into Adam in my next post BUT everything he does is out of his trust in God and the Seraphims, he trusts them wholeheartedly and despite the fact that the Sinners of Hell were once his children too, he does what he must because his flaw isn't that he's egotistical or an asshole, it's that he cares and trusts with his entire being.
He's also best friends with Kris Kringle
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dotmander · 1 year
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How To Get Your Character Models Out Of A Game: Tips And Tricks For Bitches That Have Never Used Blender
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(it's me, i'm bitches)
(also ignore how messy that lighting is it's 1am and i should have been asleep hours ago. he's there for proof of concept 💕)
a couple people (specifically @forsaken-constellation and @ratasum) asked for a tutorial on how to rip models out of the game. this is not that, but it is a compilation of resources i used to learn about ripping, blender, and 3d modeling in general. i desperately wanted a post like this to exist when i was trying to figure this out, so here we go! all the resources below are completely free, with the exception of a link to the patreon of the person that created ninjaripper.
disclaimers:
there are probably more efficient ways to do the things i am doing. i watched a tutorial to learn shortcuts and then skipped to character models. if you have tips to add, corrections to make, or other thoughts, please feel free to share! i'll link to your post here. ^^
i do not know if any of this will get your account banned. i've ripped several models, so i'm going to assume it's fine as long as you don't try to make money off of it. use your best judgment, be an adult, etc etc etc
last updated: april 2, 2023
PROGRAMS & WEBSITES
ninjaripper 1.7.1 - there's a newer version on the creator's patreon, presumably with support for newer versions of blender and fewer bugs, but i haven't tried that
blender 2.79 - the import addon that comes with ninjaripper 1.7.1 is outdated for the current version of blender (3.5 as of this post), so 2.79 is needed to combine the .RIP files into a .BLEND (blender) file
noesis - ninjaripper saves your textures as .DDS files, noesis lets you view them and export them as .PNGs
blender 3.5 (optional?) - i just like it better than 2.79. if you're completely new it might not matter to you. all of the tutorials linked later are for later versions, though.
mixamo (optional) - rigs your character for you and lets you put them in Situations (like my guy above.) there's a whole library of free animations and poses you can try!
TUTORIALS
how to use ninjaripper - most of what you need to know about actually ripping the files and using ninjaripper is covered here. do not skip this one.
how to use blender 3.5 - full disclosure i haven't finished this series because it's uhhhh many hours long. but if you are a complete newbie to blender, i do recommend at least the first few videos; you'll learn about shortcuts that will make your life easier, how to unfuck your model when it fucks itself for no reason, and different terms that will help you google things you don't know later on. possibly he even covers some of the things i'm about to link! anyway.
what's a uv map?
how to apply textures
how to apply bump maps (note: for our purposes, you wouldn't add a color ramp node, you would add an image node with your bump map, and attach it to the bump node as the person does in the video)
there should be stuff here about weight painting, cloth physics, emission maps (makes your sylvari glow), and other stuff, but um. i haven't figured those out <3  
TIPS
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TURN UP YOUR GRAPHICS BEFORE YOU RIP - if you don't, you might end up missing certain textures/glows/etc. HOWEVER, you should turn animations down, because apparently high animation can make your meshes misplace themselves
rip from the character select screen, rather than an instance, because you will have 100 meshes to sort through instead of 1400. i am not exaggerating either of those numbers. if you are new to blender, please love yourself and start with character select.
your textures will be fucked up the first time you try to apply them. this is because the UV maps (the things that tell your textures where to go) of your models are flipped upside down in relation to the texture image. you can flip them back over manually, ooooor you can just flip the entire texture file in something like CSP or photoshop.
for some reason all eyes are red in the texture files. i have not figured out why. i recommend editing the .PNG to have the correct eye color before applying the texture.
mixamo only works for humanoid characters with tight clothing (or without clothing at all). if you try to use it to rig a charr or asura, or someone with a skirt or big sleeves, you will most likely be disappointed.
that's all i can think of for now - if you have other questions, feel free to shoot them my way, although i can't promise i'll have a straight answer ^^;;
information from bookahlogy about character proportions, fixing normals, and other fun tips
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper [Part 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: 'Hello Darkness, my old friend. I see you've come to stalk my store again.' Or, why fear Death when you can just Pavlov him with cookies into carrying your groceries?
A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Continued apologies to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby
[PART 1] [PART 2]
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“I hear you’ve been dealing with an infestation.”
You arched a brow and pointedly settled the last of the little, strawberry, tarts into its box with a heavy plap. You took your time piping a neat dollop of cream on the top and then fixing the tiny sugar berry adornments into a smiley face.
“You’re free to call the health inspector,” you intoned, handing over the box. “That’ll be ten copper, your highness.”
Riddle’s face went as red as the dessert in his hands.
“Don’t call me that!” he hissed, ducking back further beneath the hood of his cloak. The cloak that was clearly made of the finest, crimson, silks money could buy. The one with real gold embroidered along the crisp edges and an ivory clasp shaped into a literal crown. 
You shrugged. At least he’d moved past demanding outright that ‘of course he wasn’t the prince! How dare you! To think yourself so presumptuous! As if royalty would ever even consider visiting this hovel of yours! Off with your head!’ Those had been a fun few weeks.
You poked around in your stacks upon stacks of baked goods and unearthed a little, cherry, cookie. You slipped it into the box alongside his tart and hoped that counted as a metaphorical pat on the head. There, there, little lord. This humble one will tell no one of your secret, commoner, shames.
Some of that choked-red color started to fade from his cheeks, and Riddle accepted the offering with an expression that on any normal person you might have called a pout.  
“I was trying to be tactful,” he spat, tucking the bribe further into the packaging with a stiff twitch of the fingers. “But I don’t know why I even bother.”
You shrugged again and made brief eye contact with the terribly unsubtle guard stationed at your front door. Cater, or Carter, or something like that. He greeted everyone who walked by with a cheerful little wave and a wink. He was charismatic, and loud, and apparently—as you had discovered when you’d tried to hand him a little slice of cake as a consolation treat for putting up with his charge’s emotionally constipated nonsense—hated sweet things with every fiber of his being. You didn’t trust him for a second.
The pair of you locked gazes over Riddle’s shoulder, and his lips quirked into a smirk that was sharper than it was fond. Ah. So it was one of those days, was it?
“Is there something else you wanted?” you prodded intentionally, as Riddle turned to make his retreat.
The Prince paused for a moment, and you watched his teeth worry a bit at his lower lip—a nervous habit he claimed forwards and backwards he absolutely did not possess. After a moment of silent deliberation, he straightened his spine into something stiff and regal.
“There are rumors going around that your business may be suffering from a… pest problem,” he said, like he was chewing over each word individually. “And while I firmly believe that people should endeavor to work through their own problems, if this is indeed a problem…” he paused, hands tightening a bit around the pastry box tucked neatly between his palms before looking back up to meet your gaze with that harsh sort of determination that always made him seem very much like someone who ought to be ruling over entire kingdoms. “I’m certain the Royal Family would be more than happy to come to the aid any of their subjects, should they ask for it.”
You ducked your head in a nod that you hoped was the appropriate level of polite for such a declaration.
“Your concern is appreciated, your high—”
His face twisted up in a sneer and you beamed.
“—Highly esteemed customer,” you finished with a chirp. “But I’m perfectly capable of crushing a few cockroaches.”
Riddle nodded at you tightly and made a swift exit. Cater flicked his fingers at you in a half-salute and the pair continued on down the cobblestone street and out of sight.
“Do you actually have pests here?” a tiny old lady asked from her place perusing your shelves. She looked like an onion that had been left in the sun for a couple dozen years, and the question seemed kinder than it did probing. Like she would happily help you hunt down the little buggers herself. “Roaches, I mean…?”
“Oh no,” you reassured. “It’s much bigger.”
You watched the poor thing nearly go into conniptions and offered her a cup of fresh chai on the house.
.
.
As much as you had kindly reassured your most affluent patron otherwise, you were indeed suffering under the aforementioned ‘pest problem.’ And while your squishing abilities were normally the stuff of legend, you didn’t think there was a boot big enough in the whole world to rid you of your current guest.
“Quelle très belle matinée! And made all the better by my dearest friend!”
You grunted and let the door slip shut with a tinkle behind him. Rook nearly bounced to your oven and peered inside with all the eagerness of a wide-eyed child. You’d long since learned not to bother yanking him back from the flames. They never even seemed to warm his pale cheeks, let alone melt him into the puddle of charred goo that they rationally ought to.
“Macarons?” he chirped, and turned to you like he was waiting for a Good Noodle Sticker. He leaned closer, and you watched the sputtering heat sway around and away from him like a tangible thing. He sniffed a few times, looking thoughtful. “Flavored delightfully with that lovely rosewater syrup you were steeping last night?
You hummed in affirmation and handed him a little almond cookie for his efforts. It felt a bit like training a dog.
The first time you’d told a dejected looking Rook that he could eat his treat in your shop rather than using it an as excuse to punt him out the door, he’d practically glowed. And had apparently taken the offer as an extension of a permanent invitation. He still waited patiently at the front door each morning, still marveled at the merry jingle of the bell when you allowed him entrance, and always wiped his feet. You’d hoped a bit that perhaps overexposure to your meager, repetitive, livelihood would have him eventually bowing out from boredom. But if anything, he seemed to have become more enamored with your dealings as the weeks passed.
And now that you’d given him express permission to hover, his originally vested interest had become outright sticky. There was no more plastering himself distantly to the window when he could go and literally shove his face into an oven, or perch himself at your shoulder like a wide-eyed owl as you tried to whip egg whites into peaks without repeatedly elbowing him in the gut. He puttered after you like a duck quacking for its mother, spouting off every question under the sun about temperatures, and consistencies, and the merits of baking powder versus soda.
“And these are meant to be… burned? Yes?”
“Dehydrated,” you sighed. “And not these. You’re thinking of the meringue cookies.”
“Ah, I see. Those crunchy delicacies from yesterday that looked to be little clouds,” he hummed, nodding along. The feather on his hat bobbed over a hot coal and sparked with embers. You reached out with a frustrated huff to whack the walking fire hazard back into a gently smoking mess rather than the start of an outright blaze. “Merci, merci!” Rook trilled as you beat him with a damp towel. Black soot floated through the air like dust motes under the sun, and he grinned through your grouchy manhandling as he always did. “Ahh, cher pâtissier! You always do dote on me so!”
You were about to argue back about how keeping him from unintentionally annihilating your entire kitchen was not ‘doting,’ when your eyes trailed over something strangely gunky and off colored stuck on the back of his cloak. You leaned forward to pluck up whatever it was, and Rook’s fingers flew out to snatch up your wrist before you could even blink.
“Please pardon me, mon cœur!” he beamed, the lines of his leather gloves a soft weight against your flour dusted skin. “I have tried to be most diligent in keeping myself clean for our morning rendezvous! But alas, it would seem I’ve missed a spot this time around.”
Part of you was sorely tempted to ask what—who—had apparently dirtied his robes. But you decided ultimately that it was still far too early to be discussing the remnants of the unfortunate victims off his hit list, and honestly you really weren’t sure you would have cared even with another four hours of sleep and a full mug of caffeine in you. So you waved him off and went back to worrying over your spice racks and tallying cups of flour.
Rook pillowed his chin in his hand and watched you putter about with a sigh that sounded far too besotted for anyone’s good. Those eerily green eyes of his seemed to glow in the lowlight, and he only gushed even more ridiculously when you launched a wet rag at the mess on his back and demanded he mop up his own nonsense or get out.  
.
.
You didn’t realize that Rook was slowly staying later and later into the day until Ace came by to collect your weekly booklet of receipts and would not step through the door.
“What are you, contagious?” you harumphed, pointedly leaning over the threshold to shove your collection of bits and bobs into his waiting hands rather than stepping out into the street to join him.
“More like superstitious,” he snipped. He crossed his arms and gave your shop a pointed once over. “I thought Egg Boy was overexaggerating, but you really just…” He waved his hands around his head for a moment before letting out an angry huff that sounded a bit too much like an overboiled kettle. “Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?!”
“You literally ate raw dough off my floor less than a month ago,” you accused.
“I already told you I didn’t know it wasn’t cooked!—And that’s not the point!” he seethed. “Don’t you realize who that is?” he continued, voice dipping into one of those angry whispers that was never really a whisper.
You rolled your eyes and turned to shout over your shoulder. “Rook Hunt?”
The blonde instantly perked up from his place perched by the counter, where he’d very clearly been watching this entire exchange with a lazily curling grin.
“Oui! However can I be of assistance to you, my lovely, darling, pâtis—”
You turned back to Ace.
“Yes, I know who he is.”
“—And of course I know who you are as well!” Rook barreled onwards, slipping forward to drape himself along your shadow like a cat might settle itself into a sunbeam. He never leaned on you outright, but he always made a point to get close enough that he may as well have. “The wonderful artiste who has shown me nothing but the greatest kindness! Ah, mon humain préféré! With your endless hospitality and words sweeter than even the finest of the confections you craft!”
Ace’s expression twisted up like the very idea of another living being considering you to be even halfway pleasant was a war crime. Which, you know, totally fair. But before your redheaded acquaintance could continue with his appalled gaping, Rook leaned over your shoulder with a smile that looked not quite right on his face. The wide brim of his hat obscured your view of the rest of him—casting the remaining slopes of his sharp features into inky darkness.
“And but of course, I know you as well, Monsieur Trappola!”
Whatever rotten, sour, look Ace had been pulling froze over into something nearly deathlike. He went so pale so quickly your thoughts swung back to wondering if maybe he really was contagious with something.
Your shaky friend? Fellow gossip? associate audibly gulped, but when neither he nor your leech of a guest said anything further, you prompted them both with a vaguely curious, “Oh? You’ve met before?”
“Not recently,” Rook trilled, sounding positively delighted. “But I suppose I am familiar with everyone in this petite ville one way or another.”
You hummed, not particularly satisfied with that non-answer of an explanation. But your brief bought of inquisitiveness was quickly being overshadowed by the very real risk that Ace may actually topple over frothing at the mouth and twitching like a rabid racoon at your doorstep. Which would no doubt be terrible for business.
“You better get going,” you prompted, debating giving him a shove with your foot. “Before you start running behind on your pickups.”
“Right…” Ace muttered, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “I should—I’ll be doing that. Leaving. I’ll be leaving.”
“Adieu, Monsieur Trappola!~” Rook called, as the door slid shut with a pleasant tingle. “I’m certain we’ll be seeing you!”
There was a lingering, creaking, da-dong sound from overhead and you wondered idly if maybe there was something a bit off with your bells.
.
.
That afternoon, after you finally heaved an exhausted sigh of relief and flipped the ‘OPEN’ sign at your storefront to ‘CLOSED,’ Rook was still perched on the little stool you’d set out for him. The late-day sunshine cast him in all sorts of unfamiliar shades of gold, and while the shadows beneath his feet had always seemed to stretch a bit long and sit a bit oddly, they twitched even more strangely in the glow of the summer light. You blinked at him in open surprise, and he blinked back at you.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Mon chéri, I am always here!” he chirped, and you rolled your eyes towards the ceiling in a silent bid for patience.
“No you’re not,” you argued. “I think I would have noticed.”
Rook held a gloved hand to his mouth to smother a laugh and shook his head at you like you were just the funniest little thing.
“As you say, my tenacious pâtissier.”
You sighed and moved to untie the ribbon of your apron. “Whatever. I suppose I could use your help anyways. I need to run to the markets.”
The Bounty Hunter’s eyes lit with that familiar, sparkling, enthusiasm and he clasped his fingers in his lap with a gust of breath that sounded like it rattled every one of his bones as it squeaked its way out of him.You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You hoped he hadn’t caught whatever mystery ailment Ace had been sagging under when he’d arrived at your door that morning.
“Shopping!” he outright beamed, putting the glitter of the afternoon sun to shame. “Une nouvelle aventure avec mon amour! Et en journée! Temps à passer avec—”
“Enoughwith your nonsense,” you groaned, tossing your dirtied apron onto a free hook. “Do you want to come or not?”
“But of course! I would be most honored to—”
You shoved a wicker basket into his hands and hurriedly moved to usher him out the door before he could begin monologuing in earnest.
Rook walked the familiar path to the markets like a tourist on holiday—stopping every now and again to wax poetic about the way that a potted flower looked in the afternoon light, staring in awe at each bizarre crack in the pavement as if it was a natural marvel worth gawking at. He muttered something dazedly under his breath at one point about ‘what messes might embed themselves in these fissures of the earth,’ but you carried on like you’d gone blind and deaf. A skill you’d become incredibly proficient with as of late.
When you finally arrived at the little hub of stalls, there was an audible gasp from somewhere in the thin crowds. You decided once again that you were better off feigning impairment and pushed onwards as if you had no idea that people were parting around you and your new companion like the pair of you were riddled with plague sores. The gossipy man who sold you your favorite strawberries went a bit green when you approached, and you continued merrily with your farce.
You had only just leaned forward to get a better look at some of the berries you tended to hoard like a dragon to gold, when suddenly the bright reds and blues beneath your fingers went nearly grey—nearly rotten. There was a long, sharp, shadow curling along the fruit. Rook was hovering at your shoulder, as he of course tended to do, and you glanced between him and the twisting, creeping, darkness swallowing the contents of the little stall in front of you. Clearly it was his purple-clad frame blocking the sunlight and casting all these weird shadows, but it was still a bit bizarre. It was like the brightness itself was being sucked from the afternoon, rather than just the cool play of the light that it ought to be.
You reached out curiously to poke a finger into the dancing bits of darkness and were surprised to find that it felt like something solid. A tangible sort of bite against your skin. Something sharp, and cold as the grave—
“Perhaps the melons, mon cœur!” Rook chirped loudly, redirecting your prodding with a cheery nudge. “They smell enticingly ripe.”
You hummed, your musings on the unnatural settling into the back of your mind in favor of reaching out to give the fruits a good shake. They did feel quite nice.
Rook swayed a bit at your shoulder, and you glanced up at him with an arched brow.
“Are you alright?”
“I do not often spend time in the sun,” he admitted, and you blinked once again at those lanky shadows before turning on him with a tight, little, frown.
“You should have said something,” you scolded. “I would have brought you a—” your eyes landed on his wide brimmed hat and its cheerful, black, feather as it bobbed in the breeze. “…never mind. But you still should have told me.”
“Ah, your worry is a balm upon ma pauvre âme!” he crooned, resting his palm against his heart. “What has a wretched creature such as I done to earn such warm regard? And alas—what then could this poor beast do to maintain such a blessing?”
“He could help me find a bag of milled flour for one thing,” you sighed, hoping to derail the burgeoning soliloquy.
“But of course!” he chirped and immediately darted off around a corner to hunt down what you’d asked of him.
You gathered up a heaping portion of fresh berries (back to the their healthy, summer, glow now that your shadow had been sent away), and ruffled around in your bag to retrieve the coppers needed to pay for your haul. The vendor reached out a shaky hand to clasp at your wrist and you raised a brow at him curiously.
“Are you okay?” he hissed, still a very unpleasant shade of sea-sick.
“Are any of us really?” you intoned blandly, and dropped the required coins neatly on the cart.
You’d only just turned back around when Rook came trotting back through the rows of carts—three gigantic sacks of flour tossed over one shoulder. It looked absolutely ridiculous, with the mass of them rising far past his head and setting his hat at an awkward slope.
“That seems a little excessive,” you sighed.
“Non, non!” he argued. “You are nearly out! There will certainly not be enough to prepare both the croissants and that lovely chocolate cake you were planning to make.”
“Oh,” you blinked, and mentally tried to tally up whatever had remained of your provisions. He was probably right—you’d gone a bit overboard experimenting with different types of pretzel dough. “You don’t mind carrying that, do you?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “That all looks like it weighs nearly as much as you do.”
Rook chuckled pleasantly under his breath, and somehow managed to dip forward into a bow that didn’t end with the enormous sacks balanced atop his shoulders spilling forward all over the road.
“It would be my pleasure, mon cœur,” he smiled, very nearly a purr.
You shrugged and went back to meandering contentedly through the stalls, happy to push all of the menial physical labor off onto someone who seemed more than delighted to relish in its ache. Rook trailed merrily at your heels—the sun heavy at his back and highlighting each step with those dripping, inky, shadows. The faint outline of a ragged, hooded, robe brushed nearly unseen through the dirt, broken only by trailing, white, puffs of loose flour.
.
.
.
TAG LIST [CLOSED]
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rockymountainqueen2 · 2 months
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New TOH Content From Disney's Chibiverse Valentine's Day Episode!
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Since the episode is both A.) Over 22 minutes long & B.) Features numerous characters from various Disney owned IP's; I will only be posting screenshots that contain TOH characters.
Now that's out of the way... Let's get started!
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Considering how Lumity heavy this Chibiverse episode is, it amuses me that Hunter is the first TOH character to make an appearance.
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He's manning the kiss cam! He takes the responsibility very seriously.
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Lumity arrives! On... Stringbean... wearing outfits that they don't wear in Season 3. You know, the season Stringbean hatches in.
I suppose the Chibiverse never claimed to follow continuity, lol.
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The episode has a "couples compete against other couples in a game show" set up. Luz and Amity are chosen as one of the couples to compete!
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The Chibiverse episodes aren't really much more than the Chibi Tiny Tales shorts complied together, with some new animated content revolving around a wafer thin "plot" being used to connect the segments.
In this segment, Luz is riding a rollercoaster!
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And now she's on a ferris wheel with Amity! Mere seconds after being seen riding another ride, lol.
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Game show format.
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Lumity tease another couple about how they're totally in love with each other despite claiming to be friends by mentioning that they also started out as friends. (And before that, enemies!)
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Anyone else wondering why Amity's eyes have been half-lidded nearly the entire time?
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Lumity being recognized and used in official Disney licensed content!
Amusingly, instead of it being called their "ship name", it's referred to as their "power couple" name. Lol.
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This little point icon thing-y is adorable.
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But I think that the little heart with their faces on it on top of it is even more adorable, lol.
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Next bit of TOH related content in this episode, the Lumity Date Chibi Tiny Tales short!
I did not screenshot any of it because it can be found elsewhere online.
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Question one for the couples: What's your partner's favorite food?
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And Amity's favorite food is apparently fairy pie! This makes the fact that she made a fairy pie was Luz at one point even sweeter than it already was.
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And Amity loves it! Luz blushes with pride.
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More teasing!
Amity also looks weirdly like a cat in this 'shot, lol.
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Second question for the couples: What is your partner's favorite color?
Turns out, Amity's is lavender!
(Also: Glyphs apparently work in the Chibiverse.)
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Only that's actually... wrong?!
As it turns out, Amity's real favorite color is... periwrinkle.
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Luz & Amity try to argue that lavender & periwrinkle are so similar that they might as well be the same color, but no sell.
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Yet more teasing. This is the main running gag for the episode, and yes, by this point, it starts to feel like it's overstayed it's welcome.
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And now it's time to watch The Amphibia House Chibi Tiny Tales short!
I don't know what this short has to do with "love" (Since all of the shorts are supposed to revolve around it in this episode), but maybe it considers Luz and Anne's new friendship to be a form of platonic love or something. Lol.
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Time for the final question!
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What does your partner want to be when they grow up?
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We never actually get to see either Luz or Amity answer this question.
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Because they tie with another couple and thus "win" the game show basically by default, lol.
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But we do get to see them kiss on the kiss cam!
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I literally just included this because Luz & Amity are both blushing.
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Enough Lumity! Now let's get some eleventh hour Huntlow!
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I love how this is how we finally got an official Huntlow kiss, lol. Hunter is about as shocked as I was to see it!
And that's all folks. Hope you liked my rundown!
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dragonrider9905 · 29 days
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Celebrating You!
Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!
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In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!
Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!
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Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)
This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!
You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!
Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)
Story genre:
Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)
AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)
Dialogue Prompts:
“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”
“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”
“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”
“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”
“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”
“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”
“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”
“White paint has more color than your face.”
“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”
“Touch **, and you’re dead.”
“I am the law.”
“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”
“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”
“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”
“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”
“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”
“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”
“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”
"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."
"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."
"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."
"The only one who gets to kill you is me."
“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”
“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”
“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”
“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”
“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”
“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”
"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."
"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."
"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"
"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"
“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”
"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"
Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"
"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"
"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"
"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."
“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"
"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."
"It'll be over soon, I promise."
"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."
"I am many things but not your enemy."
Action Prompts:
Forehead kisses
Palm/hand kisses
Dramatic rain scene
Touching foreheads
Jealousy
Dancing
Last stand
Christmas/Life Day celebration
mistletoe
Accidental hand touch
First date
First kiss
Spending time with the family
Bad day cheering up scheme
Pranks
Going to a pet shop
Going to the movies
Always go after the girl
soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.
Lullabies
Nightmares
injury
amnesia
pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship
cooking
60 notes · View notes
eddiemunsons80sbaby · 5 months
Text
Everybody Hurts
Chapter 17
Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader
Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.
18+ Only for eventual smut
Next chapter: 12/20
Word Count: 7K
Masterlist
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
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Nerves fluttered in your stomach as Eddie opened up the passenger door, offering you his hand. You took it, hopping down off the seat, your feet hitting the asphalt of the road with a thud. Your eyes peered up at Steve’s house with trepidation, the very idea of facing all of them after your epic and entirely embarrassing outburst at The Hideout making you want to lose the grilled cheese that Eddie had cooked for you as a late lunch.
It was a nice house. It looked like a basic American Craftsman with some touches of Spanish colonial. The colors were all earth tones, rusty orange siding with forest green details in the shutters, railings, and columns. You spotted a small balcony on the side that would be perfect for late night stargazing or watching the sun rise high into the sky with your morning coffee warming your hands. There was no garden but the front walk was lined with small trees, inviting and warm.  
“Hey,” Eddie said, squeezing your hand in an attempt to assure you as if he knew the panic that was raging through your body. “It’s gonna be fine. Seriously. These guys aren’t going to care about any of that. And if anybody should be ashamed, it should be me. You just yelled. I’m the one who acted like an asshole. If they’re still happy to see me, they’re going to be overjoyed to see you. Nancy and Robin have been pestering me daily because you won’t answer their calls. Trust me. They’re going to be over the damn moon to see you.”
You hoped he was right. Not only had you acted like a lunatic in front of them, then you'd completely ghosted all of them. You had only done it as an act of self-preservation, trying to keep yourself from looking the part of the fool that you felt so deeply. It had nothing to do with any of them. But how would they not feel offended that you'd disappeared on them? You would have definitely taken it personally if the roles were reversed. They’d been so kind to you, welcomed you in, and then you'd just ghosted all of them. 
“I guess we’ll see,” you muttered softly. 
“Seriously, you should have heard the tongue lashing Nancy gave me. She backed me up against the wall at the bar, her finger jabbing my chest so hard she left bruises. Man, that woman might be tiny but she is scary as hell. Then Robin started in on me, then Gareth ripped me a new one, and then I had to listen to Mama Harrington lecture me about being a good man. It was fucking painful, man.”
Your face cracked into a smile, a quiet giggle escaping despite your fear. Leave it to him to make you laugh, to put you at ease, when you were feeling anything but. When Eddie had mentioned heading over to Steve’s, you had tried everything you could think of to talk him out of it, including pulling off your shirt but he would not be deterred. Apparently, everyone was heading over for a cook-out and some drinks. They were all expecting Eddie but no one knew that you were accompanying him. He had a great plan to surprise them all, to remedy his screw-up, and to make everything better for you. He was assuming it would be a good surprise but that remained to be seen. 
What if they were all done with you? They barely knew you and you'd managed to dig into secrets that made them uncomfortable, create drama between them all, and then ignored them when they tried to reach out. What reason did you give them to want to keep you around? You'd given them no reason to. It wouldn’t be hard to drop someone you’d only met a few weeks ago. None of them would be feeling any great loss if you were no longer there.
“Is it bad if it brings me pleasure that it was painful for you?” you teased, leaning into his side, your cheek resting against the soft fabric of his shirt, a stark contrast to the muscle of his bicep beneath it. 
A chuckle shook Eddie’s chest, his lips ghosting over your forehead, “Nah. I guess I did kind of deserve it.”
“Damn right you did,” you stated, poking him in the ribs, grinning when he arched his body away from you with a shriek. Oh, he was ticklish. That was good information to have and use to your advantage at a later time. 
You stepped up onto the porch and Eddie looked down at you, “Ready?”
You nodded even though you felt anything but. You wanted to bolt, race down the sidewalk and away but before you could even process that, Eddie was knocking on the door and it swung wide open, Steve revealed behind it. With one hand on the door and the other on his hip, you watched as his face lit up upon seeing you and then his eyes trailed down to where your and Eddie’s hands were clasped together.
“Holy shit! It’s about damn time!” he exclaimed with a wide grin, his head shaking back and forth slightly. “I thought you two idiots would never figure it out.” Steve turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Munson and Sam finally got their shit together!”
A chorus of cheers, about times, and finallies could be heard from just beyond the door. You flushed as Eddie smiled down at you, an ‘I told you so’ look of arrogance on his face that should annoy you but he just looked so damn cute doing it. You shoved him gently with the hand he didn’t have a hold of, snorting and shaking your head. Of course he wouldn't be able to pass up rubbing this in. 
Then Nancy and Robin were there, pulling on your arms, yanking you into the house. They wrapped you in a hug from either side and all of the anxiety you'd been feeling seeped out of your body like water being wrung from a sponge. You squealed, gasping for a breath as both girls squeezed you as tightly as they could.
“I’m happy to see you guys too but I can’t breathe,” you choked out.
They pulled back, laughing, Nancy saying, “Sorry. We were just so worried.”
“Yeah, when you didn’t answer the phone this afternoon, Nancy declared we were showing up on your doorstep tomorrow and we weren’t leaving until you answered,” Robin told you. With a raise of her eyebrows, she hooked her thumb toward the brown curly headed girl. “And trust me, this one can be scary when she doesn’t get her way. She would have broken in if she had to.”
“Then I guess it’s lucky I showed up when I did,” you laughed.
“Damn right,” Nancy huffed, her hand coming to your shoulder and shoving firmly enough to send you stumbling back. Damn, she was freakishly strong for being so small. “You don’t get to disappear on us like that. I don’t care what happened with you and Eddie. That doesn’t change that we’re friends. I’ve lost enough people in my life and I won’t lose anymore.”
You swallowed hard, remembering Nancy telling you about her best friend who vanished only to be found dead later. She had to have known people in the mall fire in a town this small. She definitely knew the boy who was murdered ten years ago as they were together at the trailer park. This girl had suffered immense loss at far too young of an age. Of course she’d panicked when you suddenly vanished and that only made you feel like an even bigger shit.
“I’m sorry,” you told your friend, meaning it with every fiber of your being, your hand coming to Nancy’s bicep, squeezing lightly. “That wasn’t fair to any of you. I was just so damn embarrassed that you all knew that I’d…well, I thought I’d let some guy pull the wool over my eyes again. I assumed Eddie was a womanizer and you all knew and you would think I was an idiot for believing him.”
“Eddie?” snorted Max as she walked up, slinging an arm around your waist in a side hug. “Eddie Munson, the biggest nerd to ever walk the Earth? Dungeon master and geek club leader Eddie? You thought he was a womanizer?” She threw her head back, laughing. 
“Well, I mean he is in a band,” you stated in an attempt to defend yourself, narrowing your eyes down at Max who was turning red, her laughter taking over her whole body. “Women love a guy who plays guitar.”
“They also love a guy who plays DnD, is socially awkward as hell, completely lacks any self-awareness, and will talk obnoxiously for hours about things like heavy metal, government control, and Lord of the Rings?” challenged Max, her hand slipping from your side to rest on her hip, eyebrows raising.
“Maybe. I mean, girls are into a lot of different things. Look, he totally has the bad boy thing going for him. He’s got the long hair, the chunky rings, the leather jacket,” you argued, gesturing to where Eddie stood with Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will. 
Nancy’s lips pressed together in amusement, watching as Eddie wrapped an arm around Mike’s head, placing the lanky guy in a headlock while the boy struggled. He brought his other hand up, rubbing it vigorously over the top of Mike’s black hair until Mike yelled out for mercy. Then he released the kid, his head thrown back with laughter just as Lucas jumped onto Eddie’s back and he roared, reaching behind him. 
“Yeah, totally a bad boy,” Nancy mused with a roll of her eyes. “Sorry hon. You didn’t snag yourself a bad boy. You snagged yourself a man-child.”
“Oh, man-child. Are we talking about Eddie or Dustin or, honestly, it could be Mike,” El interjected, red solo cup in her hand, as she and Suzie approached their group. 
“Or Lucas,” Max groaned, watching as Eddie spun, her boyfriend on his back, arms locked around his neck, legs locked around his middle until Eddie backed into the wall, crushing the guy between him and the plaster until Lucas cried uncle. 
“Dusty-Bun may be immature sometimes but it’s just because he’s so young at heart. And he more than makes up for any immaturity with his incredible intellect and his very romantic nature,” Suzie stated and you noticed how the group just smiled endearingly at her. 
“It’s not like mine’s any better. Him and Argyle are out back and you know what that means,” Nancy added with a laugh. “I’m surprised Eddie didn’t make a beeline for them straight away. Those three can usually be found in the sacred circle around the firepit.”
“You think that one’s any better? And for some reason, I have to claim him,” Robin sighed, hooking her thumb in the direction of Steve, standing in the kitchen, pulling out lettuce, tomato, onion, all the fixings for burgers on the grill. 
You looked at her, confused, “He’s just getting ready to grill. I mean, looks very adult to me.”
Robin’s chin tilted down, snorting, “Yeah. Okay. Steve is very responsible, maybe too responsible. I got over here earlier and he was stressing out over how Lucas told him he was just going to charge a vacation for him and Max on a credit card and then he’d have time to pay it off. Apparently, they don’t have the money right now but he still wants to go. Lucas’s version is if you always wait to have the money, you’ll never do anything. You should have heard Steve. ‘He just thinks credit cards are free money or something. He doesn’t understand the interest he’ll be paying. He could be paying that trip off for years and wind up paying more than double what it actually coasts. This is why you budget and save for things like that.’ Seriously, the guy needs to join the sacred circle more often because he needs to chill.”
“Wait.” Max’s hand came up, her face suddenly tight. “I’m sorry. Lucas wants to do what? Excuse me.”
The girls watched as Max stormed over to the guys in the living room, grabbing onto Lucas’s ear. The poor guy yelped, wincing, as she dragged him out the front door, clearly in for a mouthful. They all looked at each other and then burst into laughter. 
“Oops,” Robin smirked with a shrug. “Guess she didn’t know about the vacation plan.”
“What the hell was that about with Sinclair and Red?” asked Eddie, walking up and tossing his arm casually over your shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if it belonged there, and you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed it. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted this, all of this, to become natural, a part of your everyday life.
“Apparently, Lucas was planning a trip for the two of them but they don’t actually have the money to go right now. So, he was just going to charge it all to a credit card,” Nancy explained. “I guess Max didn’t know and Robin spilled the beans.”
“Damn, Buckley, that’s cold,” Eddie chuckled, thumb running along your arm absently. “How are you going to just rat out my man like that?”
Robin held her hands out beside her, “I didn’t know that she didn’t know. I was just mocking Steve for freaking out about it. Mr. Mom in there couldn’t handle one of his little chicks being so irresponsible with money.”
“To be fair, that is really irresponsible. Credit cards are for emergencies only or using them and paying them off right away to build credit. They’re not just for flying fancies that you can’t afford. It’s a slippery slope into a mountain of debt that you’ll be able to get out from under,” Nancy defended. 
“Of course it is,” Robin mocked with a slow nod of her head. “Should have known you’d agree with Steve. It’s a wonder why you two didn’t make it, honestly. You’d think the responsible, follow the rules, parents of the group would have been the perfect match but then our Nancy throws everyone for a loop and goes for the stoner.”
“Speaking of, I’m going to go find Jonathan and Argyle,” Eddie grinned, tongue darting out between his teeth. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back.”
“Told you Eddie can’t resist the call of Mary Jane,” Nancy told you with a roll of her eyes.
You laughed, “Hey. I’m going to go see if Steve needs any help with the food.”
“Aww, such a good little dinner guest. You go right ahead. Good luck. I’ve learned not to get in that man’s way when he’s cooking,” Robin stated, eyes wide, taking a drink from her cup. “Come on girls. Let’s go upstairs and check out our game options before the guys choose Dragon Strike or something else similarly nerdy and nauseating.” 
You watched Suzie and El trail behind Nancy and Robin up the stairs of Steve’s house before making your way into the kitchen. Steve stood at the counter, chopping up the tomatoes into perfectly thin slices for the burgers. His head lifted, a smile appearing as he caught sight of you. 
“Hmm…it would appear that someone finally saw what everyone else did, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, “Oh shut it, Steve.”
“I’m just saying, I was right. You two annoyed each other too much. You were at each other’s throats too much, denying it too much, for it not to be an attraction thing, trying to act like you couldn’t stand each other like we all couldn’t see what was really going on.” He snorted, moving on to the lettuce, running it under the tap in the sink before tearing off large pieces. “We all saw it and when I confronted Eddie about it, he was way too defensive. I saw right through him.”
“You confronted him about me? Why?”
“Because he got all grouchy with me about you. He kept making these snide little comments, asking if we’d hooked up yet, asking what I was waiting for.” He rolled his sleeves up, his eyes moving along with them. “Look, Eddie’s not exactly hard to read. Man wears his emotions on his sleeve. You’d have to be blind not to know when something’s bugging him. It didn’t take a genius like Henderson to figure out he was jealous, thinking I was taking the girl he was interested in. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I thought about asking you out but once I saw how he felt, I backed off. Glad I did too. You two just seem right. I think you’ll be good for him. Man could use some good in his life.”
You knew what Steve was talking about because Eddie had made multiple comments about Steve to you too. It hadn’t made sense at the time but now you knew he was digging for information, trying to see if the two of you were a thing. He’d just assumed that you would be attracted to the pretty boy. And why wouldn’t he? That was the guy you'd married but after Cam, you wanted nothing more than everything that was the complete opposite of him. And Eddie, well, him and Cam could not be more different, in all the best ways possible. 
You hopped up on a stool, resting your forearms on top of the speckled brown counter. Steve had a kitchen that had jealousy burning within you. Oak cabinets, stainless steel appliances, a light wood floor. It put your own kitchen to shame. You would need to find a second job if you wanted to update your kitchen. More likely you would have to do it piece by piece as you could afford it. A kitchen like this would cost a pretty penny, far more than you made in six months as a teacher.
“This kitchen is fantastic,” you told him, Steve glancing up from the cutting board where he’d moved on to slicing onions. “Was it like this when you bought it?”
“No,” he laughed, “definitely not. It looked like I’d walked through a time portal and straight into the seventies when I bought it. I remodeled it.”
“Damn, that must have cost quite a bit.”
He shrugged, “I mean, yeah, but I saved quite a bit too because I did most of the work. Eddie and Jonathan helped quite a bit. Labor is always where they really get you. I probably paid a third of what I would have by putting in the work myself. It took a few months between everyone’s work schedules but we got it done.”
“I know what you mean. My kitchen is horribly outdated. It’s barely even workable. I would love to remodel my kitchen but there’s no way I could afford to have someone else do it. And, while I am more than willing to put in the work, I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea what I’m doing with some of it.” You sighed wistfully. “Who knows? Maybe someday, far into the future, I’ll be able to pay for something like that. Until then, I’ll just have to make do with my birch cabinets and avocado green counters. At least the appliances are newer.”
Steve paused, lips pouting in thought, “You wouldn’t have to wait that long. I bet we could do it if we all help. I mean, it could take a while. But between all of us, we could definitely knock out a kitchen renovation.”
“Oh no. That’s way too much, Steve. I appreciate the offer but I can’t possibly ask all of you to donate your time like that,” you insisted, shaking your head. 
This group of people were so kind, had been so wonderful to you, and you could never thank them enough for readily accepting you into their group. They’d given you hope for your future. They’d made you feel alive again, made you feel as if you could move on, could have a life beyond Cam and your failed choices. They'd given you a place to belong. They helped you find your strength to take that step forward. And knowing them had brought the possibility of…no, you couldn’t bring herself to say that word, not yet. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to hope for something that big, not yet. This thing with Eddie was new. You were excited to see where it led and you hoped it could be the beginning of something, that maybe, just maybe, he could be the one. Maybe you'd chosen wrong but maybe it was because your life was always meant to lead you here, to him. That was such a wonderful thought. There was a spark of excitement and possibility but you had to tread carefully, baby steps, not scare Eddie off.
But it was hard because you had never felt with Cam the way you did with Eddie. It was a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation all at once. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, longing for the next time his lips found yours, the next time his hands touched you. He was like a drug and you were hopelessly addicted. It both thrilled and terrified you because you'd never experienced anything like this before. You knew you were already in too deep and with that came the possibility of your heart shattering once again. But something about him made you feel he was worth that risk. You were ready to close your eyes and leap off the cliff. You just hoped Eddie was there to catch you at the bottom. 
“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, bursting through your thoughts. “That’s ridiculous. Of course we would help you. That’s what friends do and you’re one of us now.”
“Not really. I mean, you’ve only known me for about a month and I know I’m…” What were you doing with Eddie? Were you just hanging out? Were you a couple? The only time you'd brought it up he’d said you didn’t need to label it and maybe you didn’t. He’d told you he wasn’t going anywhere so that had to mean you were together, right? “I’m…hanging out with Eddie.”
“Hanging out?” Steve��s shoulders shook with the laugh that rumbled out of him. “Is that what it’s called now? Huh, I must be getting too old to keep up with the young kid’s lingo these days.”
You grabbed a dish towel from the counter and threw it at him, hitting him in his handsome face. “Shut up. I don’t know what to call us, okay? We haven’t exactly defined anything so for now, hanging out seems the most appropriate definition. Anyway, I definitely don’t know you all well enough to expect you to donate hours of your time to help me with some huge project at my house. I know Nancy and Robin helped with my garden but that was a few hours. This would be months. It’s way too much.”
“Well, it’s too bad you don’t get to make that decision. Trust me, the minute I mention it, they will all be in. That’s what we do. Just provide food and drinks and everyone who can will show up. And with me as your foreman, I’ll make sure that boyfriend…” He leaned over the counter, pointing at you with the dish towel tightly in his fist. “Yes, I said boyfriend because that’s what it is. Let’s stop kidding ourselves. Hanging out is for friends and you two are far past friends. I’ll make sure your boyfriend doesn’t nail his own hand to the wall or something. And I’ll make sure it’s all done right.”
“I don’t know,” you countered, really not wanting these people to think you were just using them or something. 
“I do know. So, just let me handle it, okay?”
“Fine. Do you need any help?” you asked, remembering what you'd come into the kitchen for in the first place before you got distracted with his kitchen.
Steve glanced around the kitchen, “You want to mix up the pasta salad?”
“Sure.”
You hopped down from the stool, coming around the counter just as Steve opened a high cabinet. He stretched up onto his tip toes, his hand reaching, causing his shirt to rise up, exposing a strip of the skin along his abdomen. You audibly gasped when your eyes caught sight of the pale scars that covered it, perfectly matching the scars that Eddie had on various parts of his body. 
Steve’s eyes shot over at your gasp, following your line of sight down to his stomach. When he realized what you were looking at, he dropped down onto flat feet, pulling his sweatshirt down quickly but the damage had been done. There was no unseeing what you'd just seen, no putting that Pandora back into the damn box. How could he and Eddie have the same exact scars?
“Steve…how did you get those scars?” you asked, stepping into him as he stepped back into the counter, eyes widening with panic when he realized there was nowhere to run or hide from your question.
“What? I…oh…uh…” 
His eyes darted around the kitchen like a wild animal desperate to find an escape. You took a step closer, your own eyes narrowing in suspicion, refusing to let him out of this. You were so sick and tired of all the secrets and lies. If you were going to be a part of this group, the way he claimed you were, the way they all claimed you were, shouldn’t you know what the hell had happened? If they really wanted to be your friend, why didn’t they trust you enough to be honest? Every time you thought you could be okay with not knowing, had put it all in the back of your mind, something else reared its head, reminding you, pestering you. You couldn't stand it.
“The scars,” you repeated. “Where did they come from?”
“Eddie told you about the raccoons, right?”
Your eyes slipped closed, a long, aggravated breath escaping from your lips, because you knew it was bullshit. All of it was bullshit. You'd known it was bullshit from the moment Eddie had told you about the raccoons but tried to accept it, but only an idiot would keep accepting these flimsy claims. There was no way raccoons did that to two grown men. How many of them could there possibly have been? Steve and Eddie maybe would have gotten bitten once, twice, but they would have kicked or thrown those little bastards. There was no way Eddie would have the amount of scars he did from some little woodland creatures. 
“Can you please stop with all the bullshit?” you pleaded. “I know you’re all lying to me. I just don’t know why. The disappearances, the toxic chemicals, the lab, the mall fire, the murders…none of it makes any sense. Don’t try to tell me raccoons did this to you too because there is no way.”
“Sam…” Steve warned, shaking his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there. Just let it go.”
 “Why? Why don’t I want to go there? Eddie said he wouldn’t tell me because he wouldn’t put anyone else at risk. What does that even mean? Why would telling me put me at risk? Is the murderer still out there? It’s been a decade. How is that possible and if it is, shouldn’t I know if some psycho is running around Hawkins? Did he come after you two? Is that where your scars are really from?”
Steve’s head dropped, large hands covering his face, the muscles of his arms tense. You knew you were pushing him and maybe you should feel bad about it but you couldn’t manage it. What could possibly be so bad that they couldn’t even talk about it? It happened ten years ago. Some of it happened even longer ago than that. Why were they all still so scared to speak about it? Why did Eddie think it would put you in danger? Why did they feel the need to lie?
“It’s not that simple,” Steve said, his head lifting, eyes finding yours, willing you to just forget you saw anything, to just walk away. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. Trust me, you don’t want to know. I promise you. You can’t unknow it once it’s said. You’d run straight out of this town as fast as you could if you knew. Either you’d be terrified or you’d think we all needed to be committed.”
“Why do any of you want me around if you don’t trust me enough to tell me, to believe you? You keep telling me I am one of you, that I am part of this group, but you keep secrets and you lie.”
“It’s not that we don’t trust you. I swear. Shit. I wish I could tell you. I wish we could just be honest. None of us likes lying but there’s no way to explain this so that it makes sense to you.”
“Then just explain it. Where did those scars come from?”
“Bats.”
“Bats?” you asked, even more confused than before. Bats were just a different animal. Same story, different mammal. “So instead of rabid raccoons you expect to believe that rabid bats attacked you two?”
“It’s true. The bats were…not like your normal bats.”
“Why? Because they were affected by the toxic chemicals?”
Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded emphatically, as if you'd just given him the out he was looking for, “Yeah. Yeah. Those chemicals were really bad, you know? They killed Barb.”
“They killed a fully grown human but not the bats?” you interrogated suspiciously, folding your arms over your chest, fully aware that you were just being bullshitted all over again. “What was so special about the bats that they survived exposure?”
Steve shrugged, mouth pursed, hands out in front of him, the strangest sound coming from him, a cross between a whine and a grunt. Jesus Christ. None of them were ever going to tell you what was actually going on. You were always going to be on the outside, the one who didn’t get to know, the one they kept in the dark. 
“Steve!” you yelled, slapping your hands down on the counter so loudly that he jumped. “Come on! Do you all really think I’m an idiot?”
“Whoa, what’s going on down here?” asked Nancy as the girls made their way back down the stairs. “We heard yelling. Is…” She paused, looking between you and Steve. “Is everything okay?”
The front door opened, Max and Lucas stepping inside. Lucas looked properly chastised but both of them were also looking between the two people in the kitchen, clearly having heard your outburst. Then the back door opened and closed as Eddie, Jonathan, and Argyle came down the hallway and into the kitchen. Shit. You'd just managed to get past one very public, crazy meltdown and now you were in the middle of another. 
“Is someone fighting?” asked Argyle. “We got more stuff if someone needs to chill out, man. No need for tension. Tension is not allowed in the sacred circle. Just let Puff the Magic Dragon take you on a wave of relaxation.”
“Everything’s fine,” you muttered, glaring over at Steve who flinched. You snatched the bowl from his hands, slamming it down on the counter. “I’m just helping get the pasta salad together.”
“Oookkkaaayyy…” came Eddie’s voice from behind you. 
“Steve?” asked Robin with concern.
“It’s fine Robs,” he said, grabbing a container of pasta, a cucumber, olives, cherry tomatoes, and Italian dressing from the fridge and placing them on the counter next to the bowl. “Just a conversation that got a little lively. That’s all. Seriously, it’s fine.”
“Doesn’t seem fine,” Dustin argued, eyes narrowing. “She was definitely yelling at you. What did you do?”
“Henderson, why do you always assume I’m to blame?”
“Shit, it’s just nice it’s not me for once,” chuckled Eddie. 
You seethed, dumping the pasta in, trying to focus on your task. Not a single one of them was going to tell you anything so what was the point? They wanted you here, at least they acted like they did, but then they all lied to you all the time. You grabbed the knife, chopping the cucumber with force, each slice feeling satisfying, a release of the tension and anger that stirred within you. 
“Hey, princess,” Eddie said softly as he slipped up behind you, his hand coming around to cover your wrist, stopping your motions. “You okay there? I don’t know what that cucumber did to you but the way you’re chopping it feels kind of personal.”
You closed your eyes, inhaling slowly through your nose, feeling the rise of your chest, the way your belly filled. You focused on the warmth of Eddie, this man you would never truly know, this man you were already falling for. Shit. Your eyes shot open. No. You couldn’t be. It didn’t happen that quickly, right? 
Devastation coursed through you because you knew it was true. No matter how much you'd tried to fight it, tried to deny it, to tell yourself he was a jerk, you'd fallen for him. When had it happened? Had it been that first night, those deep brown eyes burning into you from through the fire? Was that even possible? Love at first sight? That was nuts, right?
Did it even matter? How could anything between you ever be real when there would always be this part of him that he kept locked up from you? How could you ever have something true when you would never get to know all the parts of him? The person you were with should be your best friend, the person who knew you better than anyone else, but you could never be that person for him. And you'd stupidly told him that you could accept that so how could you demand it of him now?
Swallowing down the sour taste that was creeping up your throat, you rolled your shoulders, forcing your body to relax. Pulling your wrist from his hand, you dropped the knife, spinning in his arms to offer him a smile that you hoped appeared genuine even if it was anything but. 
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry.”
Eddie’s head tilted to the side, his mouth curving up on one side in that little smile you loved so damn much, the backs of his fingers running down your cheek, metal cooling your flushed skin, “You sure?”
“Yep. Totally fine. Just going to finish this salad, okay? You guys pick out a game?” you loudly asked the girls, trying to change the subject to anything but how insane you were acting. Because that’s what it was. You were insane. You had completely lost your mind trying to figure out what they were all hiding and if you didn’t get it under control, you were going to lose all of this, everything that had made you so happy this past month.
“Yeah, uh…pictionary,” Nancy said, looking as if she didn’t believe you in the slightest. 
Well, that was fine. Let her see how it felt to be lied to. Maybe that was mean. Maybe you were being an awful person right now but you couldn’t help feeling a little vindicated. If they weren’t going to tell you what was going on with them, then you weren't going to bother telling them what was going on with you. You couldn’t anyway because if you did, then it would just create more tension, tension you couldn’t handle right now.
“Okay, but then we are playing trivial pursuit because I am going to wipe the floor with all of you,” Dustin announced. 
“You are the king of Trivial Pursuit. No one can beat him. My Dusty Bun’s big brain is what made me fall in love with him,” Suzie cooed, her hand coming to his chest, cheek against his arm. 
“Uh…yeah, okay,” Eddie snorted. “Because knowing a bunch of useless facts is a real life changer.”
“You’re just mad because you never win,” Steve teased.
“Never win?” asked Mike. “Last time, he didn’t even get one piece of pie.”
“Shut it, Wheeler. You only had two,” Eddie countered. “Don’t act like you’re so much better.”
You listened to all of them arguing as you sliced the tomatoes in half, adding them in, along with the olives before opening the dressing and pouring it over the top. Grabbing Steve’s salad tongs, you tossed the mixture around, focusing on the task, the repetitive nature, telling yourself to let it go, to not rock the boat. You were happy. You were in a new relationship. You had friends. You were starting a new life. Getting angry wasn’t going to change anything or help in any way. 
“Salad’s done,” you said simply, handing the bowl to Steve. 
“Thanks,” he replied, giving you a smile you didn’t return. He cleared his throat. “Hey, while you guys argue about who is the king of some dumb board game, I’m gonna go get the burgers going.”
“I’ll help you, man,” Eddie offered, trailing behind him, the other guys quickly following. 
You stood in the kitchen awkwardly, nibbling at your lower lip, the rest of the girls looking at you anxiously as if you were a rabid dog about to attack at any moment. Clearly, you weren't doing the best job of pretending everything was fine but it was getting harder to do with each lie, each denial, each refusal to tell you the truth. 
“You sure you’re okay?” asked Nancy.
You lifted your head, smiling wide, “Yep. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You just seem…angry?” Max offered. “I mean, Lucas and I could hear you yelling from the front porch. You drowned me out and that’s saying something.”
“Did you tell him off?” you asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“I mean, yeah, I absolutely ripped him a new one. I don’t know why the hell he would even consider starting our life off drowning in debt. But that’s besides the point. Why were you yelling at Steve?” 
“I know he can be a dingus,” Robin laughed, “but why were you asking him if he thought you were an idiot?”
“It doesn’t matter, okay? None of it matters because no one is ever going to tell me the truth. There’s no point in rehashing it. I asked him a question and he lied to me just like everyone else. I asked Nancy and Jonathan about the murders and they lied. Eddie flails in his sleep, whimpering and crying out, and he lies to me. Steve has scars just like Eddie’s and when I ask, he lies. It’s all lies. Clearly none of you trust me and none of you want to tell me so it’s fine, okay? I’m done bringing any of it up. You can keep your secrets.”
“Oh, I…” Nancy said sadly, pressing her lips together. 
“It’s fine, Nance. Really. Clearly, whatever happened is between all of you. I wasn’t here and it’s none of my business. I’m the one in the wrong. I shouldn’t be pushing to know things that have nothing to do with me. Can we please just drop it because I can’t take any more lies or half-truths right now?”
“Okay. Yeah,” your friend agreed with a nod. Of course she did. Nancy was more than happy to drop it. She probably wished you hadn’t ever picked it up. “So, are you and Eddie like…together now?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I think so. I mean, he told me he’s not going anywhere so I assume so.”
El smiled, “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”
You couldn’t help but return the girl’s smile, “Yeah. It is. I really like him. Lord knows why but I do. I mean, it’s all new. We’ll see where it goes but for now, it’s really good.”
“Good,” Robin stated, her arm coming around your shoulder, cheek resting against the side of your head. “You both deserve some happiness. I’m happy for you and we’re all really happy you’re here. Really, we are. Regardless of everything else, please know that. Now, how about we go check on those burgers, huh? I don’t know about all of you, but I’m freaking starving.”
A murmur of assent rose from the girls so you all made your way out into the backyard. Damn, Steve was quite the handyman. You stepped out onto a beautiful wooden deck, the guys just down to the right, standing around the grill that sat on a stone patio. Eddie smiled at you, cigarette in his hand. Out in the middle of the yard was an above ground pool. 
“Steve even has a pool?”
“Yeah,” Max grinned. “That’s why his house becomes the designated hangout in the summer. He bitches about how much we’re all over here but he actually loves it. He had shitty parents and no siblings, so he really likes all the chaos. He just has to act grumpy to save face or something but he really loves the family we’ve created.”
“He does. Why else do you think he installed the pool? The guys helped him with it a couple summers ago, along with the deck,” Nancy added. “He’s done a lot to this house.”
“Speaking of which,” Steve called from where he was manning the grill, adding cheese to half of the burgers, “our girl here has a really old kitchen and I told her we could probably help with that.”
“Oh yeah!” Dustin exclaimed. “We all helped Steve. We’re like kitchen restoration experts now.”
“I am a pro with a nail gun,” Lucas stated proudly. 
“Don’t let him fool you,” Max whispered conspiratorially, “there was an incident with about thirty nails in one spot because he couldn’t get it right so he just kept adding more.”
You giggled, “Oh boy.” 
You made your way down to stand next to Eddie and he instantly pulled you into his side. You snuggled in, inhaling the scent of him, letting it ease all the tension from your body. This should be enough. Good friends who were willing to help you, a beautiful man who made you feel things you didn’t even know you could, and a fresh start. Anyone else would be satisfied with this, would stop digging and causing problems. Why were you your own worst enemy?
“All good, sweetheart?” he inquired, lips brushing over your forehead.
“All perfect,” you assured, arms coming around his waist because it was. It really was. You just hoped it stayed that way. 
Chapter 18
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