#because that's really the nature of writing. baring your soul and your self to others in those persons you breathe to life on the page

[eyrieofsynapses]

good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.

y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.

I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.

I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?

when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?

that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:

what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?

it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.

and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.

there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.

#the glorious 25th of may #night watch #gnu terry pratchett #discworld #I cannot express how much I love that our lilacs bloom at the same time as they do in the books #also I dearly wanted to include this little fact in my accidental monologue but it didn't fit. so in the tags it goes: #GNU Terry Pratchett is ALSO a Minecraft splash text #which is just. aaaaaaaaaaah of course a game with something like the End Poem would do that but aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah #I have many feelings on this and a decent summary of a lot of them is about the beauty of how humanity remembers and loves our dead #and also just... the love. the love that can be held for someone you never met #but whose writing and words can pierce your heart in the best of ways #and the love for characters--for the best of them are these little shards of the writer's soul that they decided to share #because that's really the nature of writing. baring your soul and your self to others in those persons you breathe to life on the page #and then sharing it with others just in hopes that it might ring true and inspire them #give them insight #help them in ways no one else could because only YOU could write that character and share that part of yourself #and by gods if Pratchett isn't among the best at that then I don't know who is #anyway. I have feelings and I accidentally turned them into a monologue whoo #have a good evening all

[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

[floshoe]

Thank You

Single Mom! Florence x Female!Reader

Summary: Your entire life changes when you meet a girl at a coffee shop.

Warnings: Toxic relationship (previous), alluded to smut, cuteness, kids, pregnancy, self-doubt.

Women can get each other pregnant in this because i say so. <3

Also; I'm sorry I haven't been posting, writers block is a bitch. but I promise I'll get everything out!

WC: 5.9k

You met Florence at a cafe, really simple, almost cliche, but it was the best day of your life.

The first thing you noticed about her was her eyes, a beautiful green color, but obviously exhausted. Her smile was forced but still beautiful. You glance at her nametag, Florence, what a fitting name for a gorgeous woman.

She was on her 6th hour of her shift, and she was obviously wishing she was anywhere else. But of course, her being the sweet soul she is, she was able to keep the customer service voice and face on. You order your drink and left her a hefty tip for her long day.

She remembered that, because that tip allowed her to get her daughter something a little nicer for her birthday. So, the next time she saw you, she thanked you for your generosity.

After that, you concluded she was living off of tips and paycheck to paycheck, so every time you came in and she made your drink, you gave her the same tip. After a while of this, she starts getting a little suspicious, like how you have this much money and why are you giving so much of it to her.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but why do you give me such a big tip every time I serve you?" She asked after about 2 months of you coming to the cafe.

"What if I told you, it's because you deserve it?"

"How would you know if I deserve it or not?"

"I see it in your eyes," you tell her as she hands you your drink, you drop off the tip, and walk out. Florence couldn't contain her smile after that, almost blushing.

The next time you saw her, she was actually happy to see you. Not because of the tips, but because of your nature. Your generosity went a long way with her.

She had your usual ready for you, you thank her, drop off the tip, with something a little extra and tell her to have a good day. You wish you could've stayed to talk but you had a busy day ahead of you.

That night, as Florence was going through her tips, she notices a piece of paper among the bills.

I swear I forget where I am when I walk in here, but I've realized I'm lost in your eyes.

(XXX-XXX-XXXX)

xoxo, Y/n

She recognized your name because she asked for it every time you got your drink. She smiled, blushed, but was saddened at the thought of you buying her affection.

It was a week before you gained the courage to walk into the cafe again. Having not heard from her, you were worried you had crossed a line. It was later in the day so there weren't near as many customers as the morning. But she was just as kind to you as before, and acted as if nothing had happened, you apologized for crossing a line and gave her the same tip as before.

"You don't have to keep giving me the tip," she tells you.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You don't need to use money to get girls you know," she softly states.

"I don't," you replied, shocked. "Please don't think I'm trying to win you over with money, I do that because you're you, and I like you, not because I want something from you."

She blushes a little before you turn to leave. "Can I have your number again; I threw the first one out," she says with a smirk.

You smile and grab a napkin, write it down and put it in the tip jar and make your way home. She messages you that night, leading to a conversation neither of you will forget.

Both of you fall asleep with smiles on your faces that night.

Months later, that conversation still pops up in both your minds, even as you're entering your 3rd month being together. In those months, you learn you were right. She is living on her tips and paycheck. Just barely making ends meet sometimes. But your tips helped keep her a little more comfortable.

She's been to your place more times than either of you can count, mostly during the late morning or early afternoon. Over time you noticed you'd never been to her place. Not wanting to overstep, you keep that thought to yourself.

And she could tell, and as your relationship progressed, she worried more and more about telling you. And before that she had to tell you about her past with relationships.

She had mentioned it before you guys became official, worried it might scare you off, but it did nothing of the sort. It only made you want her more, so you could treat her the way she deserved.

But she went into more detail at around 7 months of dating. Because the day before she told you, she had told you she loved you. But before you could say it back, she kissed you and left your apartment.

She called you a couple days later apologizing for her running away.

"I'm really sorry for running out," her voice shaking and riddling with guilt

"It's okay Flo... you don't regret what you said do you?"

"No! No, of course not, I just kind of said it and I got nervous. But I think I need to be more honest about my hesitation," she confesses.

You blew out a sigh of relief when she said she didn't regret saying it.

"Come over for dinner so we can talk about it?" You offer.

"Of course."

When she got to your apartment that night, there was something different about her, yes, she had usually been shy. But now she seemed nervous to even be in your presence. You reach out your hand and watch as she grabs it with her smaller ones. Another thing you loved about her was her soft touch.

You walked her over to the couch and pulled her to sit next to you. She took a shaky breath before she started talking, she wanted to say it all in one breath so she could just get it out there.

"I haven't had the best experience with relationships in the past as I've told you but there is still something I didn't tell you. My last boyfriend, he wasn't the best person, but he had money to keep me from becoming homeless, so I stayed with him. Plus, he had his moments where he was loving, and actually seemed to care about me. We were together for a long time, and I ended up getting pregnant. He didn't take it well, he yelled, a lot. Things were said but we stayed together. He was a lot more distant while I was pregnant, I had to start working more because he was running out of money because he was spending so much of it on alcohol and random things he didn't need. I had to spend all mine on doctor's appointments and prenatal care, pills, vitamins, etc. He didn't go to a single appointment, he didn't support me at all, I'm not completely sure why he stayed in the first place. Probably because he wanted a son, because when I had a girl, that's when he just left. I never saw him again after I had her. But I regret none of it because I have my little girl. She makes my life worth living."

Well, it's out there, her story was out there. She was putting all her trust in you not to hurt her like her ex did. Her hands shake as she stares at them and plays with the rings she has on them. You reach out to grab them, hold them, in order to reassure her.

You honestly don't know what to say, were you going to leave her? Hell no. If only this makes you admire her more than you already did. She was working her ass off not only for herself but her daughter, she survived a shitty relationship and is willing to put her trust into you.

"That's what I ran away after I said I love you; I was scared that once you found out you'd leave."

"Never," you shake your head, "Never would I leave you over something like this."

"I just don't want you to look at me differently."

"But I do, you're such a strong woman. You survived a relationship with someone who didn't care about you, and you came out on top. Like you said, you got your little girl. So yes, I am going to look at you differently, because you're resilient, and deserve all the love in the world."

She looks at you with tears running down her face with a wobbly frowny smile. You cup her cheeks and rub them with your thumbs to get rid of her tears, she leans into your touch, making you wonder when it was the last time someone had held her so gently. "And that's why I love you."

Her smile brightened and she leaned in to kiss you, which you happily returned. You move your hands to her waist and pull her closer to you, sitting her on your lap making her straddle you. She pulls your face closer with her hands continue to kiss for a while before heading to the bedroom.

----

It's not until a few months later that you meet her daughter. Charlotte. She liked the name because it means freedom and liberation; and just what she needed after the whole ex-boyfriend ordeal.

Florence had left her favorite sweater behind the last time she was over, offering to return it to her she sent her address to you. In hindsight it was kind of obvious that there was going to come a time where you needed to meet her daughter. You two are coming up on a year of dating now. Not that there was a timeline considering you wanted her to go at her pace for something like this.

So, when you knocked on her door, and a 5-year-old girl answered, a dog not too far behind, it's safe to say you were shocked. You heard Florence shout her name from inside the house.

You see Florence rush to the door and grab her daughter pushing her behind her. The action making you frown a little.

"Hey, I was just dropping this off," you tell her with a quiet voice and small smile.

She notices your shift in demeanor but grabs the sweater and frowns when you turn to leave. "Would you like to come in?"

Her offer shocks you a little bit, "I don't want to be a bother."

She shakes her head and grabs your hand to pull you into her house.

"Who's this?" You ask as a brown and white dog sniffs at your feet.

"That's Billie, she calls her a foster fail," Charlotte tells you as she follows her mom to the kitchen.

The next thing you knew you were drinking tea with your girlfriend and her daughter. Charlotte wasn't doing much drinking because all she wanted to do was ask questions.

"Who is she mommy?" "What's her name?" "How do you know my mommy?" And this went on and on until Florence had to tell her to take a breath.

"This is Y/n, and she's my girlfriend," she explains to the younger blonde.

"What's that?"

"It's when two people, really really like each other and decide to start a relationship together," Florence does her best to explain it in a way a 5 year would understand.

"Do you love each other? Like how we love each other?"

"We do love each other, yes, but it's not the same kind of love," Florence tells her.

"How can love be different?" Damn this kid really knew how to ask hard to answer questions.

After about 30 more minutes of being stumped by a 5-year-old, Florence tells her its bedtime.

"But why?" She whines.

"Because It's late and Y/n and I are going to talk for a little bit." Charlotte makes the same frown Florence does when she's sad and you can't help but smile at how adorable it is.

Your girlfriend coaxes her defiant daughter into bed and eventually walks back into the living room. She sighs as she sits on the couch next to you, you pull her towards you so she's resting against you.

"Long day?" She nods and leans into you more. "How much do you work?"

"Almost every day, I make sure to get Fridays or Saturdays off every week so I can spend time with Charlie."

"Why, if you don't mind me asking."

"I have a lot of medical bills to pay off, as well as pay for this house. I want her to have as normal as a life as possible."

You nod and lean your head against hers, thinking.

----

The next day you had off, Florence wasn't so lucky; but Charlotte also didn't have anything planned for the day. So, Florence was stuck on what she should do. On one hand she thought maybe you could take care of her, but she didn't want to put that kind of pressure on you. And she also didn't know if her daughter would be comfortable with that.

So, before she went to work, she asked her.

"Hey honey," Florence sat on her daughter's bed.

"Yeah mama?"

"How would you feel if Y/n was to look after you today while I'm at work."

Charlie thought for a moment, "Yeah! I want to be her friend."

Her answer surprises Florence, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! If you love her, she must be awesome."

You got to her house about an hour later, and Charlotte ran up to you grabbed your hand, "Hey silly girl!"

"Hi!" she giggles.

Florence watches the scene unfold in front of her with a content smile. She was worried about Charlotte not being comfortable with you. But there she is, holding your hand and ranting about how she wanted to spend the day with you.

You guys spend the whole day playing with her toys, watching her favorite shows and movies. When Florence gets home that evening, she sees you two passed out on the couch.

She smiles and kisses you both on the foreheads before going to her bedroom to get ready for bed.

----

Florence had opened up to you about just how much she still has to pay off in medical bills and you can see how much it's been weighing on her mind for so long.

A couple days later you start planning, you make decent money at your job, so when Florence told you about the outstanding medical bills, you started scheming on how you could pay them off for her.

Your two-year anniversary was coming up so you were hoping that this could be your present to her. So, you did some snooping and found out the hospital she went to and found out her insurance provider and made an anonymous donation, exactly what was left of her medical expenses.

They thanked you for your generosity and told you that they would be giving her a call to tell her about it.

For your anniversary, Florence just wanted to relax, no fancy dinners or anything and you were okay with that. You just made her promise to let you make her dinner. She agreed and you made a simple pasta, nothing extravagant in order not to mess up the night but Florence was still grateful.

You two were relaxing and basking in each other's presence in her bedroom when she gets the call. You can see the pure confusion on her face when she listens to it, after the call ends. she looks at you and sees the small smile on your face.

"No, you didn't," she shakes her head in disbelief. You nodded and she just shook her head as she started crying and covers her face. "Why would you do that?"

You pulled her into your arms as she cried it out and told her, "Because I could see how much it was weighing on you and I wanted to help ease the burden."

"B- what...?" She was having trouble forming words and you just held her close. She looked at you with tears in her eyes. "Thank you, you have no idea how much you've done for me."

You lean your forehead against hers and you cup her face and kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of her tears. She kisses you back and she ends up straddling your lap. "Let me repay the favor," her sultry voice and heavy accent making you feel things as she kisses down your neck before kissing your lips again.

"And how would you like to do that," you say against her lips as your hands rest on her hips.

"Like this," and she kisses you passionately before pushing you back to lay down on the bed.

----

2 months later

You and Florence had talked about kids before, it’s something Florence has to have a big family of her own for as long as she can remember.

And you wanted to give her that, you were just nervous about being a mom. You knew Florence would be an amazing mother to her children. And she already was with Charlotte. You were just worried about yourself.

Your parents weren’t exactly model parents, you were left to fend for yourself most nights, you were yelled at for making mistakes every child makes and were often hit as a punishment. And sometimes you were even banished, as in they pretended you weren’t there.

Florence knew about all of this was okay with waiting until you were ready. But that didn’t exactly go to plan.

It’s date night, and Charlotte was already in bed, so you and Florence were doing the regular things you do on date nights, she made dinner, with a little help from you, and you ate together, caught up on each other’s days, and just snuggled up close and enjoyed each other’s company.

The only thing was you noticed Florence wasn’t drinking, and when you asked about it, she brushed it off. You also noticed Billie following her a lot closer than normal.

“Just not feeling it tonight I guess,” you nodded, not fully believing her but you let it slide.

On the inside Florence was freaking out, the last she heard you weren’t ready for kids, and she was worried about your reaction. She knew she shouldn’t be scared of you getting mad or anything, but because of her ex. she was scared that you’d leave like he did. And she also doesn’t want to bring up any unwanted memories. 

“You, okay?” You ask her, noticing her spacing out. She blinks a couple times before she sees you kneeling in front of her. 

“Yes, sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

She takes a deep breathe before she says, “I need to tell you something, but I need you to promise to not get upset.”

You look at her suspiciously, “okay.”

She gets up from the couch and goes into the bathroom and grabs the pregnancy test she had taken a couple of day prior. She walks back into the living room to see you sitting on the couch, anxiously waiting for her to tell you what she needs to.

She sits next to you and takes a shaky breath. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” You ask her worried. She hands you the test and just waits for you to react. And when you realize what it is, what it’s saying, and what it means; you honestly don’t know what to do. “Oh,” is all you can muster.

You notice Florence bouncing her knee anxiously at your reaction, you put your hand on her knee and kneel in front of her. “Honey.”

She stops her knee and looks at you, “you’re not leaving, are you?”

Her question honestly shocked you, “What? Why would you think that, Flo?”

“Because I don't know if you’re ready for kids, and we agreed to wait, and I don’t want to force you into anything you're not ready for.”

“Honey, I’m not going anywhere. I know we agreed to wait but sometimes these things happen. And remember, I’m here because I love you, and that includes any new life we may welcome into the world. I’m not him, baby,” you try to comfort her, rubbing her knee. “Is that why you were so nervous?”

She nods and you honestly feel a little disappointed in yourself, you lean up and circle your arms around her waist, she wraps her arms around your neck and holds you close. “I’m sorry he made you think I would leave you over this. But I love you Florence and we’ll do this together.”

She whimpers and nods before holding onto you tighter, you mock the action and hold her as she cries. “You're going to be a mom again.”

She smiles and laughs, “And you're going to be a mum.”

----

When it came time for the first appointment, she was told she was about three months. The next morning Flo called you into that bathroom while she was getting ready, honestly worrying you, so you came as fast as you could. But when you got there you saw her staring at her stomach.

“I’m showing a little,” she said smiling so brightly it made your heart melt. You walked over to her, lightly grazing her belly with your hand. 

“You look beautiful,” you tell her and slowly kiss her lips. She smiles against your lips and looks up at you.

----

Another thing you guys had to worry about was telling Charlie. Having a sibling hasn't really been a thing she has ever brought up before.

So, one night, you and Florence sat down with her after dinner.

"Hey Charlie," Florence starts, her daughter looking up at her with her adorable doe eyes. "How would you feel about being an older sister?"

She looks at the both of you before smiling, I'm gonna be an older sister?"

Florence nods with a smile.

"Really?! My friend Lily's and older sister too! She has a little sister that's super cute! Am I gonna get a little sister too?"

"I don't know darling; we'll just have to wait and see."

She smiles and starts bouncing around talking all about how she's going to be the best older sister ever. And how she hopes she and her younger sibling can be best friends.

----

But it wasn’t all cute and glamorous moments, there have been many mornings when you watch her rush to the bathroom and hear her throwing up into the toilet. You rush to her side and rub her back, holding back her blonde hair. Whispering words of encouragement into her ear.

She leans back into you when she’s done and leans her head into your neck. Seeing she’s clearly exhausted, you help her brush her teeth, and carry her back to bed. 

You hold her in bed until she feels well enough to get up and get something to eat. And once again Florence is shocked at how supportive you've been. Not that she didn't think you would, she just didn't expect you to do all of this.

----

But when it came time to tell her family she was so excited, she was told by her doctor to wait until she’s into the second trimester. She still wasn’t feeling her best though, so you did your best to do everything that was needed for the little party she had planned. 

With the help of Charlotte, you kind of forced her to sit on the couch, leaning against a pillow with a blanket in her lap claiming, “I got this mama, you relax.” "Yeah mama, we got this," Charlie chimed in. Her heart nearly exploded when you two said that her cheeks turned red, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She rubbed her growing belly, Billie in her lap, and felt nothing but excitement for the future.

And she watched as her two favorite girls decorate the house and prepare for the party.

----

But there were days where her past got the better of her and Florence couldn’t help but doubt that this would last forever.

You noticed Florence was really in her head, so you sat her on your lap, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around your neck. You rested your hands on her hips and looked at her.

“What going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Thinking.” You raised your eyebrows, so she continued, “I’m just scared that this won't last forever. That you'll pack up and leave once you realize that I'm not worth all of this.”

You shook your head and grabbed her chin to make her look at you, “You deserve every bit of love that I give you. You deserve to have someone there for you when you're tired, and unable to do things yourself. And I'm not going anywhere, not when you need me, and when I honestly need you too.”

She softly nods with a soft smile, and you kiss her lips, “How have you been feeling lately, pregnancy wise?”

Florence had recently gotten to five months, and while she was excited to see them grow, having a bigger belly and everything that came with it has been giving her hell.

“I’ve been okay, you’ve been lots of help.”

You smile and hug her the best you can with her belly and feel a kick on your stomach, Flo gasps, feeling a jab at her ribs. You both look at each other, communicating through your eyes that this was the baby’s first kick. Her smile widens as she giggles and kisses you.

Later that night when Florence was tucking Charlotte into bed, she felt kicks and again wanted Charlie to feel her younger siblings kicks. "Charlie, give me your hand."

Confused, but she listens and feels the kicks, "What's that?"

"That's your younger sibling," Charlotte's face lights and she squeals before she starts rambling about how excited she is to be an older sister. And you watch the scene from the doorway with a wide smile on your face.

----

About a month after that, you came home from work and noticed Florence was nowhere to be seen. Billie almost tackled you to the ground, you pet and gave her some scratches before feeding her and then going to look for Flo.

You walk into your shared bathroom and see her relaxing in a bubble bath. “Hey you.”

She opens her eyes and smiles at you, she lifts her hand and makes grabby hands at you, motioning for you to come closer. You kneel next to the tub and grab her hand.

“How have they been treating you today?”

“They’ve been giving me hell all day. They will not stop kicking,” she groans. 

You rest your hand on her belly and she’s right, they’re moving nonstop. “They’ve been doing this all day?” She nods.

“They usually stop when you talk to them, please say something.”

You nod and rub her belly, “Hey there, its mommy, I know you’re really excited to get here, but I need you to relax a little, okay? Mama needs to be able to rest to help keep you healthy and protected before you get here.” You feel them slowly start to stop as you keep talking, Florence gives a sigh of relief when they stop.

“Thank you,” she closes her eyes again.

“Anything for you,” you kiss her forehead, “Need help getting out?”

She nods and you start to empty the tub before slowly helping her out, once you get her into one of your oversized shirts, they’re the only thing that she can fit in now and help her into bed.

“Need anything else?” She nods and pulls you into bed with her. You two cuddle until Debbie drops Charlotte off from school.

----

When you walked into the kitchen to see an 8-month pregnant Florence trying to cook dinner, “Honey, the doctor told you to rest.”

She looks back at you, “Yeah, well I got restless and decided I wanted some food.” Florence hasn’t been in the best mood lately because of the hormones and her body getting bigger and making the simplest of things hard.

You sigh sadly and walk up behind her as she waits for the pot to start boiling and wraps your arms around her belly, “what are you doing.”

“Just lean into me,” you tell her, she complies, and you slowly lift her belly so you’re carrying the weight of it instead of her back. She sighs and leans further into you and fully relaxes in your arms. 

She whispers, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you darling.” You kiss the side of her head and stand there until the water boils.

----

As she was approaching her due date, Florence started to get more and more nervous. Yes, she was excited about having another baby, but she also had to go through labor, push them out, and heal her body afterwards all over again. And it wasn't all that easy with Charlotte. These concerns had been a constant in her mind for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t want to burden you. Especially since you’re already nervous enough already. And since she wasn't used to this kind of support since her ex hadn't helped her at all, so she's used to doing this kind of thing alone.

You had noticed Florence acting differently, but you didn’t want to push and every time you had approached her about how she was acting, she would throw out, out of character remarks, and when she did, she'd see the look on your face and would start crying and apologizing. Which lead to you holding her and trying to make her feel better.

But eventually she broke and told you about her thoughts and anxiety as she gets closer to the birth.

You’re kneeling in front of her as she sits on the couch, “Why didn’t you just tell me honey?”

“Because I know you’re already stressing enough I didn’t want to add more.”

“My job while you’re pregnant is to make your life easier, make sure you’re taken care of, making sure both of you are okay, healthy, and happy. I’m here to help you,” you explain to her. “And if you get anxious about this, remember that there are medical options, I will be there the whole time to help you, and support you through this.”

Florence smiles as she tears up, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily you’ll never have to find out.”

----

It’s only 2 weeks later when Florence’s contractions start. She at first thought that they were braxton kicks and didn’t think too much of them. But as they got more intense and were getting closer together, she decided to wake you up.

As soon as you figured out what was going on you made to grab everything so it’s ready to go to the hospital, you held Florence and talked her through contractions. You called her midwife to tell her, and she unfortunately told you guys to wait until they were 4-5 minutes apart.

“Oh my god,” Florence groans after a particularly intense contraction. She catches her breathe and looks up at you.

You brush a wet washcloth over her sweaty forehead.

"You're doing amazing honey," you tell her.

"Thank you for being here," she pants.

"Don't thank me, I want to be here for you," you shake your head.

"I know, but with Charlie I was alone. I would've had my mum there instead of him, but she couldn't catch a flight in time."

"You did this alone last time?"

She nods and you can't help but admire her strength. Her face scrunches up in pain and she squeezes your hand again, you whisper sweet nothings in her ear as you do your best to comfort her.

About an hour later they're close enough to where you can take her to the hospital. You call Florence's mom to keep her updated since Charlotte's staying with her. She thanks you for taking care of her, and you tell her there's nothing you'd rather be doing.

Once Florence gets settled into the hospital room, and into the gown, she gets checked and is told that she's about 7cm dialated, not too much longer to go.

Her breathing starts to get heavier so you think she's having a contraction, but you quickly realize she's panicking.

"Baby, you're okay, its's going to be fine," you try to calm her down.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not about to push a baby out of you!" She groans through a contraction and her anxiety.

You wait for the contraction to stop before you say, "I know and I'm sorry there isn't much else I can do, but I know you're strong and you can do this. You're the strongest person I know, and you've been doing great, and you will continue to do great because you're resilient and can get through anything the world throws at you," you encourage her.

She looks at you for a second before she nods and smiles a little. "I can do this," she says to herself.

"You can do this."

----

After 15 hours of labor, your son, is born. Florence felt instant relief as her son was placed in her arms. After a little while of cleaning up, Florence, you, and your guy's son, Caleb, were finally able to relax and be alone.

You watch as Florence smiles sleepily at the newborn in her arms, you are sitting next to her, "I'm so proud of you."

She looks up at you and smiles wider, "Do you want to hold him?"

She hands you the infant and you carefully support his head and watch as he fusses a bit before he calms down and grips your finger. "You're a natural," she praises. You feel your cheeks warm and bounce a little to keep him calm.

"You should sleep honey you need to rest," you can tell she's exhausted but hesitant to fall asleep. "I'll wake you if we need anything."

You can see that she doesn't want to just yet, so you walk over to her and rub her hairline and kiss her forehead. "You've just done a lot of exhausting work; you deserve to rest." She relents and falls asleep, content.

----

The next day Florence is awakened by you holding your crying son, trying not to wake her up.

"Give him to me," she opens her arms for you to give him to her, you do, and she starts to feed him. You just stand there and admire her. She is quite literally a natural at this and she couldn't look any more beautiful.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asks pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Just admiring," you tell her with a smile.

She blushes and looks down at her son, whose content that he's getting fed, "I know you're tired of me saying this, but really, thank you. You have made not only my life, but Charlotte's life easier and better."

"I'm really glad I ended up in your cafe."

"Me too."

You walk over to her and sit next to her on the bed and kiss her head, before leaning your head against her and taking in the moment.

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

I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any ideas about little imagines about this little family send them in! <3

this fic is also just inspired by my need to help people and people needing me. but we're going to ignore that.

#florence pugh fluff #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh imagine

[nighwingsdiscordkitten]

So this is what I have so far on the Dean Winchester character analysis it's a bit all over because I wrote it while on the bud home but I'm writing it in a notebook of mine in a more clear and organized way then gonna re type it once I get it done

Also if you guys don't mind pls add your own character analysis of your own or just things you've noticed during the series because I really don't wanna mischaracterize him and accidentally make him into a complete different person especially since Dean's whole character is literally so important to me

Also I don't want anyone to think I'm gonna excuse the bad things Dean has done to Sam, Cas, and also Jack. I wanna include the fact that he isn't that great of a person and i still wanna hold him accountable for all the bad things he has done throughout the series

How Dean Winchester is. Given the parental role and also the more “women” or ‘feminin’ role in the series and also by the fandom.

Firstly we will talk about the fact that from a very young age (four years old) when his mother died in the fire he was the one to grab Sam from his crib and ran out of the house while his father stayed back. We see this in the very first episode and was also mentioned in one of the later seasons, growing up he was given the parental role because John (the father) was to busy with ‘grieving” his dead wife to the point that he threw himself and his family into the hunter life leave Dean and Sam to grow up on the road with no real home, they stayed in dirty old motels and barely had money to live off of, you can see this by the fact that they never had Christmas and I know that’s not a very ‘big deal’ BUT the fact that Dean had to sneak off and steal from a random home to give Sam some type of Christmas and also the fact that Dean was arrested for stealing some peanut butter bread and then was sent to Sunny’s home or wayward boys. There was also hints that Dean barley ever got to eat and often have his food to Sam so he wouldn’t go hungry at night, I don’t know if it was ever actually mentioned but it was hinted in episodes where Dean would have flashbacks or it was hinted, you can also notice this with how Dean eats his food, it’s more animalistic and rushed while Sam eats more calmer and also less, that is because Sam never had to really worry because Dean always fed him but Dean never knew when his next meal was so I believe it is a trauma response. Another trauma response is also is his savior complex, in the show we often see Dean more concern for Sam then himself and and could also be a readily for his own self destructive tendencies but we’ll talk about that later- since Dean has taken care of Sam his whole life Dean took on the parental role naturally and also started to relaty on Sam to be there constantly because Sam is his only constant figure in his life much how Dean is Sam’s only constant figure as well. Why is Sam and Dean each others only constant figure even tho they both have John tho? Well that is because John wasn’t the parental figure they needed. They only could rely on each other and no one else, sure they had Bobby but they don’t show him much in their flashback so I don’t know how much of a role he had in their childhood because he only really shows up more in their adult life, I do belive Bobby was there in their childhood because we see Bobby and Dean playing catch in season 7 when Bobby dies but that’s pretty much the only scene we get with Bobby and younger Dean every other scene is when Dean is a adult, so that makes me belive even more that Sam was deans only constant and the same with Dean for Sam. Now, about the savior complex, there are multiple examples of Dean wanting to risk his life for same and wanting to ‘save’ Sam for example

•Dean welling his soul in season 1 to same Sam

• Dean wanting to save Sam from ruby and his demon blood addiction

•Dean wanting to say yes to Michel

•Dean trying to get rid of the mark of Cain

•Giving himself up to Amra

•Even giving his own childhood up for Sam

Etc (look up more of deans self scarification)

We also see Deans self destructive tendencies by the fact he pushes people away, him being a alcoholic, him hiding his own traumas and emotions resulting him to have break downs or out bursts of rage because that was what he grew up on. He never learned how to let his anger out in normal healthy ways I believe that was because of John and how he was raised because we constantly see John being abusive and taking his anger out of Dean.

Again this is super all over the place but that’s because it’s still the rough draft I’m planing on rewriting all of this to make more sense and also I still wanna add more things to this as will because There’s so much more I wanna talk about but just can’t put it in words exactly

#dean winchester #dean winchester character study #spn #spn fandom #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #sam winchester #supernatural #spn cast #spn castiel #castiel #Sam and Dean #spn sam winchester #spn dean winchester #supernatural sam winchester #supernatural dean winchester #supernatural characters

[exilepurify]

The first OVA for MP100 has really interesting connotations in terms of what Reigen actually knows about Mob’s experiences. Reigen’s the one who’s narrating the recap, so we can assume the perspective and the things he mentions are solely based on his own understanding of the situation.

Obviously the nature of a recap episode is that not every detail can be included, and I recognize that I might be applying meaning to what may just be limitations of the form, but it’s fun to speculate about the meeting of meaning and execution, so why not, right?

When Reigen is describing the events of season 1, he completely skips over Teruki strangling Mob. If it’s meant to be a recap for the audience, the strangling was maybe the most important thing to happen in the whole fight other than the ???% explosion. It’s where Teruki’s worldview starts to break down, it’s a moment where Teruki’s desperation causes him to betray his own moral boundaries (“What am I doing???”), and it’s where we first learn about Mob hurting Ritsu—the inciting incident for quite literally every single thing that happens in the entire plot of Mob Psycho 100. But not only does Reigen not mention those at all, they also don’t show any footage of it happening. It skips directly from the knives to Mob’s ???% explosion.

In the scene that happens in S1E6, where Mob asks Reigen about what qualifies as self defense, Mob mentions balding Teruki, shredding his clothes, destroying his school, and throwing him up in the air, but he doesn’t mention Teruki strangling him to Reigen. Ever.

Mob also never tells Reigen about the incident where he hurt his brother with his ???% explosion as kids. He mentions to Reigen that his powers are dangerous and that he’s scared of hurting people, but his guilt compels him to never mention the specifics of the event to anyone but Ritsu. And directly because of Reigen never knowing the severity of Mob’s concerns, he underestimates Mob’s internal struggles and even trivializes them sometimes, which is why he has the whole “I didn’t know!!!!” moment in the finale. If he knew that guilt was eating Mob alive like that, he would’ve handled it better than he did, obviously.

Instead, Mob writes in that part himself, sitting alone in his bedroom, rather than transcribing what Reigen is narrating. And even when he does write about it, he chooses to say very little in detail. The audience sees the whole scene play out to fulfill the purpose of the recap, but Mob’s internal dialogue—which is reading out in his head what he’s currently writing—says (in the dub bc it’s the one I currently have downloaded for amvs lol), “When my brother, Ritsu, was little, he would get really happy whenever I showed him my powers. But, because I hadn’t learned how to control them, I ended up hurting the brother I loved so much. Because of me, Ritsu…” And from here it transitions immediately to the alley scene. He really doesn’t even say much. When a kid says they hurt their brother, the first things that come to your mind usually aren’t all that serious. It’s pretty common for siblings to hit and bite (sorry to my older sister—I was a biter 😬) and stuff sometimes, especially when young. No one would assume he was talking about pretty serious head trauma from just that.

He does, apparently, know about Mob and Teru torturing Terada via waterboarding. I’m assuming Teru told him that part. It certainly wasn’t Terada. He seems to think the torture is hilarious, though. “*in a laughing, smug voice* This poor soul was tortured and embarrassed. He was in way over his head—literally.” It kinda was, tbf.

Obviously the integrity of the story starts going straight off the rails at this point, with Reigen poorly photoshopping himself into every scene to fulfill his chuunibyou complex. I’m just going to blanket assume that everything Reigen knows about Mob’s actions in the claw division before he arrived there himself comes from a mixture of Mob’s bare-bones reporting and Teruki bragging about the details of power level and technique and stuff.

When it comes to Mob’s 100% rejection and defeating Muto, Reigen openly admits to only knowing of his existence through hearsay and that Mob doesn’t remember how he defeated him. However, for the sake of recap, the audience is shown the full scene of Mob hitting the ceiling on his counter and freaking out, so that’s another interesting dichotomy between Reigen’s understanding of the story vs. what we are shown as the audience in the recap.

And then everything after this point was witnessed by Reigen firsthand, so it’s not so much about his understanding of the situation than it is about the way he’s framing it (which is poorly).

Anyway, it’s super clear that even back in season 1, Reigen had no idea what was actually going on with Mob. And if he did, he didn’t know the ways it was affecting him, or the most heartbreaking details had been fully excluded.

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 spoilers #reigen arataka #shigeo kageyama #mp100 ova #mp100 analysis #mp100 meta

[vnyverse]

may i request a scenario with haerin where, they’re about to sleep facing each other and despite the darkness around them, reader still manages to see and capture haerin’s beauty. slightly touching her features to feel it and smiling at just how lucky she is to have haerin.

this is too specific but i dreamt of it and can’t get it out of my head. also just because i love haerin so much 🥲

side note: i really really really love and enjoy your work AND I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. i love the way you narrate and everything. you’re my favourite author out of everyone. keep writing wonderful works, vyny!

a/n: I’m glad you like my writing, and I hope you like my playful take on this! I'm still exploring what lenses I’d like to write through, and am currently experimenting between multiple writing styles so I apologise if my works seem to be inconsistent or have gaps! Always open for requests and criticism. I’ve personally never been attached to anyone, been in love with or crushed on anyone before, so sometimes I sort of write in my own way of how I am able to appreciate what I sense and see, sorry if its a little oddball-ish. A little embarrassing when I think of it sometimes heheh

Bts I guess but I listened to a whole christmas playlist writing this because I think christmas songs are what give me most warmth even if I don’t celebrate xmas? (Think jazz, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, an occasional sprinkle of Chet Baker.)

 Cold, seemingly bland spaces can be warmed up with the presence of belongings. Belongings that tell a story, or for the matter of fact reveal anything about its owner, that a homeowner may be an adult who values utility, a child that is obsessed with aeroplanes, or a teenager that likes punk music. Today, the rain’s gentle pitter patters and the ensuing cold made it as if you were a cold space in need of light and warmth. The television host of whatever gameshow was playing was so perky you wanted to give her a slap, but it did its job of holding your attention hostage till the centrepiece returned- your dearest Haerin. Just as you think of her, a knock on the walnut door is heard. 

 Her presence was made known with the little shuffles- what you knew as attempts to remove those shoes she complained were too tight. You made a mental note to get her another pair one size bigger. What you didn’t expect, however, was that she came home bare-faced, like she had conquered the day of nosy reporters and blinding camera flashes without any make-up. It was a pleasant change, and you wish it could be that way, she was in her full beauty without makeup, you always thought so, and you genuinely wished that she could do whatever she found comfortable, of course that was not to say that olive-coloured contact lenses, some lip tint amongst other beauty products had no effect of enhancing her beauty. It was just because it was simply a pity the world would never get to appreciate her in her most natural form. No, she was not a black cat, a dancer, singer or a girl group member. In the moments you spend together she is her inquisitive self, a soul deserves happiness, a young maiden that finds beauty in making sense of her surroundings. God even knows what it was that made her chuckle at her own antics sometimes, just like now, with little sounds summoned by her almost tripping over your shoes, the very corner of her pillowy cherry lips threaten to remain high up, and then she does the little thing where she bites one side of her bottom lip, leaving the side out playfully-as if it took the place of a tongue that was supposed to stick out. That’s a part of what makes her so lovely and refreshing.

 You take your time with her, as you always do. How could you not when she looks at you like that? When she looks at you like you’re her whole world. God sure took his time crafting this girl’s features. She melts into your touch as you ready her for her skincare routine by gently brushing her long, dusty ash coloured hair, before tying it together in a neat bun. You think to yourself how everyone else can always be classified as a colour, but Haerin in essence would never be so one dimensional that she simply falls under any one specific colour. She could be a sky blue if she wanted, or maybe a lilac purple, hell, the girl could even be a dark maroon if she desired so. Now she was all ready for bed, and you could not resist tracing your fingers through her features, what she responded with was a curt nod coupled with unmistakably happy orbs, what you’ve deciphered to be simultaneously  a green light and a yes please. 

 You’ve thought for long how exactly to piece together her beauty to Haerin herself in words, the best you can and without thinking you muster up something between nothing and everything, a coughed out ball of adjectives you somehow managed to deliver. You could, as cliche as it sounded, and did in fact exaggerate that you would have a video camera pan in and out of her features, edit it, and have an audience gasp at the entirety of the video, and this is how you envision it goes. You cringe at your idea now, thinking of yourself as a genius no more as you reveal your elementary idea to God’s now dozing off magnum opus. 

 You were sure every glance at her kittenish countenance would be a perpetual wonder for you. Her hair, when tied up, revealed little ears that seemed to perk up excitedly, whether out of shyness when she faced you, or if they maybe wanted to take a peek at you when your eyes weren’t on hers. How her kind, gentle brows seemed so gently slant it allowed your eyes to follow them and slowly move south like a traveller, onto large and curious almond eyes that put other honey coloured eyes to shame, not before taking a gentle descent down the slope of her nose, her shapely soft cheekbones, and perfectly deep dimples that were lethal for any pair of eyes to travel toward. The journey does not end there, of course, your eyes would then take a trip to how the area near the ends of her lip would subtly crease at whatever little observation she had that successfully demanded her attention, and how her puffy cheeks were annoyingly soft. 

 But until you are sure you can express the entirety of your absolute and spontaneous  appreciation for her, you express it through the little things. 

“Night night beautiful.”

“You too.. loveyouy/n”

 Now you pull the sheets over the girl, for your exploration could take place after abundant rest and maybe then you would find something new and equally intriguing on your next. 

___________________________

This girl is just so adorable 🥰

#gg fluff #gg imagines #newjeans fluff #newjeans imagines #haerin #newjeans haerin #haerin x reader #kang haerin #newjeans #newjeans x reader #gxg imagine #kpop girls

[nerdstify]

I'm writing a Death Note story and need help with the middle. Send your ideas via DMs, comments, or asks. If I like them, I might even draw them! Also open to Death Note art requests. Share any Death Note-related ideas and I'll see what I can do.

(and in this case comments too!)

Start and end of the fic under the cut:

Start:

God, the rain was gorgeous. L wasn’t usually one to remark or note on the beauty of people; people did things and said things that he couldn’t understand. They hurt and killed and lied; and for what? For only themselves. But the world- the non-people part of the world- was utterly beautiful. L knew why the rain fell. It brought the plants to life. And even though sometimes it felt like nature didn’t have a purpose- like destructive typhoons and hurricanes- he at least understood that these catastrophes weren’t self-serving. The rain had no greed or selfishness; nothing to gain, and so the chaos was out of its control. The rain was always his favourite, grey and rhythmic and cool. Any beauty he saw in a human was simply a reflection of the beauty of the rain. Watari, cool and graceful and methodical as himself, nurturing lost children like they were plants below his sky. Soichiro, stoic and sturdy, creating a calm and intentional rhythm for L to think to. These people and others he had admired for sharing the qualities of the rain he loved, but there was one more. A conundrum that L couldn’t quite place.

Light Yagami. Not just the rain, but a monsoon. He was endless and unrelenting. No matter how many challenges you gave him, he dodged and weaved until the rainwater had flooded every crack in the moulding and invaded your basement. L wasn’t fond of people getting into his basement. He wasn’t cool and stoic and calm, but he came with a surging heat and a blinding sun and a furious intensity. L was almost sure he was Kira, because like Light, like the monsoon, Kira barely seemed human to him. He didn’t seem to be killing for personal or even corporate gain. Kira had convinced himself and the world that he killed for righteous reasons; for saving the good in humanity, but L couldn’t believe that. Kira killed because like Light, like the monsoon, he simply couldn’t stop.

He had never before been so attracted to a person, yet so repelled. If Light contained a duality and, say, Kira was a north magnet, and Light was a south– then L was north. There was nothing his heart, mind, and the deepest parts of his very soul craved more than a friend- or so he told himself- like Light.

But Light was Kira.

Wasn’t he?

Ending:

He knew it. Of course Light was Kira. There was no way around it. L was doomed by this narrative of friendship he had written for himself. Light was so perfect that L couldn’t have beared to lose him. So charming that the barely human, hardly affectionate, happily lonely L had warmed to him. Welcomed him. Shown him the smallest, quietest parts of himself. But Light was barely human too; becoming less and less by the day. And as L grew more and more attached, Light grew further away. A part of him had known from the very beginning how he would die. It wasn’t a slip-up in safety or privacy, it wasn’t a miscalculation, or a misjudgement of character- in fact he had judged Light perfectly from the very beginning. It was trust that had killed him.

His first, his best and worst friend, using him even now. No doubt faking his grief towards the task force. Or perhaps the grief was real. Despite it all, L couldn’t help but clutch onto the glimmer of hope he kept locked tightly in his ribcage, as the light faded from his eyes, that he could still mean something to Light, despite using him and throwing him aside.

Like he did Misa. Like he would his father and Sayu. Like he did his own soul. Like he did everyone once they stopped being fun to play with. Kira really was a child.

He had always known he would die right here, in task force headquarters, where he was supposed to be safe, and at Light’s hand, who was supposed to be his equal. He had imagined dying with a subtle smirk, Light finally incriminated, and a successor lined up to catch him. But in his ideations of death, not once had it occurred to him that it would hurt so much.

The grief, the guilt, the regret, and most of all the gaping wound that Light created, ripping into him with his bare hands and clawing at the insides of his chest, twisting a knife right into his gut as he pretended to care that he was gone.

#death note #lawliet #death note au #death note fanfic #death note fanart #deathnote #death note headcanons #lawliet fanfic #lawliet fanfiction #l lawliet #light yagami #death note l change the world #l #ryuzaki #yagami light #misa amane #ryuk #rem #soichiro yagami #sayu yagami #mello #near #fanfic #fanfic requests #deathnote fanfic requests #ao3 #my ao3 username is mcnogglers btw

[turbulentscrawl]

Hello there! I hope you’re doing well! I love your writing your are literally sustaining the entire idv fandom rn skcbsnsnd. I would like to request a match-up!

My name is Nico and I am a 21 year old female (she/her maybe they if i’m feeling spunky) bisexy (bisexual). ehmmmm. Idk what to say already LOL. uh I believe i am infp and 4w5 I am a scorpio rising and sun and capricorn moon. I personally think that my duality is silly, weird, kinda naive tbh, cute, chill, friendly, maybe a bit talkative? but im also very introspective, melancholic, wise, quiet, perceptive, thoughtful. i can be quiet insecure/self-deprecating/self-critical, i have a hard time being vulnurable and usually help others without allowing myself to be helped. i’m stubborn in that way and like to be independent and tough even though i crave being cared for lol. i am very passionate and empathetic and i have very strong intuition although i tend to ignore it in favor of “logic” and my attempts to feel in control. i am ambitious and always come up with grand ideas in my head and hyperfixate on them and ultimately become disappointed when i can’t bring it to fruition because it’s too ambitious. however that has also made me resourceful because i will find work arounds to make my ideas possible, even if it’s not how i originally planned.

i am a sort of solitary creature, and i know how to be my own best friend and to enjoy my own company, not having grown up with lots of friends. i didn’t used to go out much and i used to think i was very quiet and unsociable but after going out a bit more i have discovered that i can actually be a bit of a social butterfly, and it comes more naturally than i previously thought, although it makes sense considering i could talk to anyone and was a great leader/public speaker as a child. (and then anxiety/depression hit and i retreated into a shell as a teen.)

I used to say my favourite colour was green because I really like it, but then I thought it was grey because that is the colour i perceive myself as. but lately i have began thinking it might be red as that is what i have always been drawn to, regardless of what i think. idk why but it felt important to mention that.

anywhoo. my hobbies are playing any and all video games, watching horror movies, playing board games/card games, doing puzzles/puzzle books (crosswords, sudoku, word search), playing piano, singing. i love antiques and i love buying them because they are practical and beautiful and often much sturdier and long lasting than more modern things (they just ain’t built to last anymore) and i believe that they have so much character and soul and it’s tragic that there is a lost art in craftsmanship of furniture and clothing and like. shoes! and pens and clocks and everything! so i like to give those old beauties a new home where i can actually USE them as well as admire them.

i also love singing i have been told im good at singing but honestly i think im only mediocre. i sing in choir and i would honestly love to be an opera singer haha even though that might seem silly. i would love to be in a band too and i genuinely have been attempting to pursue that. oh i also study biochemistry in university i am suffering but it is interesting and i have always had an innate curiosity about things. i was a very dark but bright and curious child. i was fascinated by death and other things as a kid, but i never found it morbid it was just interesting to me.

i love science and random fun facts but i also love tarot and astrology (even though i barely know anything about it) and i am interested occultism and metaphysics and would love to know more about it because i don’t believe science and “magic” kind of stuff is mutually exclusive.

i feel like i am writing too much but you said write a lot so 😭 i enjoy talking abt myself as im sure most people do but i always feel bad for it lol. uhmm i do like writing and i used to do it a lot but ive been struggling with it lately. i also love lots of different types of “aesthetics” i suppose, such as dark academia/victoria /gothic/antique but also cottage core/witchy/nature/kinda hippy forest lady but also grunge/punk/garage rock/seattle in the 90s but also 70s and 80s style but also 2000s but i also sometimes enjoy modern fashion. idk im a real mixed bag but i love it i mean there are just so many things to love in the world. i am a very sleepy gal too i mean some people wake up early to be a hater but i wake up early so i can have time to go back to sleep.

i cant really think of much else. it’s hard to perceive yourself ya know, but hopefully there is enough information there for you and i sincerely apologise if it is too much!! thank you very much for your consideration and i hope you truly have a wonderful day. sending you good vibes full of love mwuah <333333 :3

oh i also really love sharks and foxes and bears and bats and squids. and cats. and silly little shrimps and trilobytes. and pterodactyls. OK WNOUGH-

-------

Yes I love lots and lots of info 👀

I ship you with Fiona Gilman!

-From how you write and what you’ve described, I’m getting a sense that you strive for a strong identity, but both struggle with and respect the complexity of trying to achieve that. Due to the nature of her worship, Fiona finds it attractive when people accept the intricacies of life. Things are rarely easy to pin down, life is fluid, people included, and she thinks it takes great wisdom to understand that.

-She shares your curiosity for life and the universe, and since your expertise seem to be so different, teaching one another is a great excuse to spend time together. ;) Unfortunately, there are some things in relation to the occult and her worship that she simply cannot share. It’s for your safety, as much as she trusts your ability to comprehend things that would break others…better safe than sorry.

-Fiona is an ambivert. She’s good with socializing, but she also likes equal time to have quiet time. Since you’re still getting the feel for these things, she’s fine letting you take the lead on going out or staying in. If you need space away from her? That’s fine too, there’s plenty of things she can busy herself with in the meantime.

-She’s both persuasive and a little sneaky, and will take steps to assist you in getting better at accepting help. If she has to, and if your workload is too big, she will go behind your back to help with a few things. Nothing major, partially because she feels bad and partially because she hopes you won’t notice, but she can’t just do nothing when she feels like you’re sinking.

-She’s not much of a nap-taker, but as long as she’s not busy with something she does like to offer you her lap as a pillow.

Runner Up: Grace

#idv matchup #turbulentscrawl

[notmuchtoconceal]

Your tumblr is near enough mind-melting with how awesome it is. It's real difficult not to get completely lost in the archives. Would be interested in showing off some alpha cowboys who like lassoing their prey?

bro, i really appreciate you saying this. i haven't been keeping up with my own work lately. i don't read it or enjoy it or know what it's about it.

used to be i really primped and polished and took my time with everything i wrote, but the highly repetitive nature of the sex act or the gym act or the sacrificial rite, tied to genre stratification tied to my own personal need to evolve and grow, sometimes it's a struggle to keep things interesting -- personally and creatively. think what i'm doing now is goin as fast as i can and with as little thought as i can to push myself to favor first impulses and rapid production -- to see how my process is effected, as well as the quality of the work itself.

the things i write -- you may have noticed, they're similar and they're not.

sometimes it'll be three AM and one person will like one random thing in my backlog, and I won't see em again until another three AM nights later.

sometimes a dude'll like twenty or thirty posts of mine in a row, then follow and i'll start to see em either in regular rotation or else just keep hittin me with the splurges -- every few weeks or months.

makes me wonder what people are doing in my backlog. how long they're back there, what they're looking at, what they're reading, what the whole labyrinthine experience of getting lost is like.

it's hard not to notice the sorts of things that people reblog. there's an undeniable tendency towards agreeableness and safety. this makes intuitive sense, as many individuals like to see themselves as activists or connoisseurs with the content they reblog, but let's not kid ourselves -- an online page is curated space where individuals assemble objects to create an aesthetic impression of their inner lives. the objects arranged just so communicate -- this is me. this is what i'm about.

you may read something and find it heartfelt, shocking, rhapsodic. you may read something that makes you think, that haunts you, that changes you. nevertheless, since it doesn't fit the curated experience of yourself you've assembled for your online page, the more vibrant reality of this thing you read is fated to remain unengaged with, left to molder in obscurity in some dust bin of memory, the experience nevertheless enduring, haunting you, effecting a subtle sway on your actions.

it doesn't matter if it's erotic, polemical, poetic -- any sufficiently novel effect can jar you out of your pre-conceived notions long enough to make you truly reconsider something you'd absolutely taken for granted, and if it seems too shocking for approval by other people, you're liable to ignore it because ultimately the opinions of our peer group matter more than considerations of truth, because our peer group is what's most immediate and visible and truth is so abstract it may as well not be real.

this problem is only compounded by the implicit assumption that a person -- and thus their mind and soul -- ought only be "one thing" as the value of a person isn't in cultivating a holistic personality or skill-set, but their immediate one-way use value to others, as most individuals still bare the scars of a culture shaped by top-down workplace abuse.

to risk putting something on your page which clashes -- violently, discordantly -- with your curated ego, though you recognize the utility it has to free other curated egos from their bondage -- this may not be a revolutionary act in itself, but it can help train you for further revolutionary acts by getting you in the mindset to indulge in some occasional rebellion.

the important thing is you start training yourself to act for self-liberation.

a person is the consequence of their applied actions.

if you continuously make the effort to live a more free and open life, it will only be a matter of time until you're doing so, though you must be ready and willing to confront the ways other people want to keep you muzzled.

you are recognizing a way the status quo is impeding the net spread of human liberation through a harmless social convention -- everyone's page is "for them" and this is individually charming, though can stagnate on a large enough scale -- and you disregard it, coyly, and in doing so invite others to follow suit. voila. now we still have personal pages, but we also have deeper connections and a net increase in authenticity.

the world is a better place and everybody wins. you told the truth and it cost you nothing. someone might be mad at you, but since you reblogged this and thus think it must be right, your first impulse should be that the person who might want to give you shit is wrong.

to wrap this up, i'll add -- absolutely.

the other day i had a blonde thought that the cowboy's basically a knight of rugged individualism, the one true american ethos.

he ain't in uniform, but he's still in uniform.

that's the way it be sometimes, brah.

#good ask bro #tight fucking gag #rope

[vukovich]

Hi Vuk!

For the writer’s questions: 13 and 26 please and thank you!

Oooo, tough ones!

13. what is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? what is easy?

Difficult... hm...

Hm.

You know, I think there are two kinds of "difficult to write."

The Vulnerable Difficult: The words are flying out, but the writer is already terrified of being known for them.

The Drudging Difficult: The words are barely dripping out because the writer is bored, but the words are necessary

And so for me, the Vulnerable Difficult is dysfunction, violence, and kink. Here's my soul, please SPaG check it.

And the Drudging Difficult is actually the smut. I have a very visual imagination, so I can already see the smut in my head. I am only typing it out for my pervy friends as an act of love.

26. how do you get into your character’s head? how do you get out? do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

I had to give this a lonnnng thing. Two cups of coffee-long. Because climbing inside heads is very second nature.

So. To differing degrees, all of my characters are self-inserts. I realized twenty-five chapters into Eagles in Truro that all four main characters were just me at different ages (currently Ron. Let that idea sink in in relation to Ron and the other main characters. You can hug me later.)

There's a joke that writing is just trying to make talking to yourself a conversation, and I think it's true. I think everybody leaves behind themselves a wake of people they've been, and writing is a way of letting them all interact.

Or I was really fucking high when I watched Spiderman: No Way Home.

(Both.)

And I don't think I ever "get out" of their/my heads. I just sort of peel them off my brain, put them in my fanny pack, and keep them around. Some fit better than others. Some aren't terribly comfortable, but usually because they needed breaking in, so I don't regret that.

[rebelspy]

I posted 572 times in 2022

29 posts created (5%)

543 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@twancingyunhao

@mommas-wombats

@thevampywolf

@thepixelelf

@gamerwoo

I tagged 331 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#hahaha - 20 posts

#cori rambles - 14 posts

#this is cute - 9 posts

#my lixie - 9 posts

#cori talks - 9 posts

#this is adorable - 7 posts

#haha - 6 posts

#my ⛰️ - 6 posts

#send me anons - 6 posts

#i laughed so hard - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#so i recently had foot surgery. and its taking me such a long time to do simple things because i barely have been cleared to stand again

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The amount of adorable in this photo!

I haven't wanted a pillow/squish so bad in a long time. I want a bbokari pillow. It would match my RJ bighead plushie.

Also as much as I LOVE blonde Felix. Look at this man! He is stunning!

1 note - Posted May 31, 2022

#4

The other day my friends and I were discussing what kind of drunk I would be. **note none of us drink**

We all decided I would be like Hoshi if I was drunk. That is all

2 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

#3

When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written/fics you’re most proud of, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love.

I was tagged by the lovely @flurrys-creativity 💕

I've been a little MIA lately with my own medical stuff happening but I really am happy to share my top 5 favorite fics I've written!

I have written for a few different kpop groups. However 4 of my top 5 fav fics I've written have been for Stray Kids

Park Guell - This Jacob fic is actually based on my time at Park Guell in Barcelona. I don't have the cute relationship I wrote about. However I did have a cute little boy who I chatted with for about twenty minutes. So this fic was based on that interaction, and how I wish someone would look at me in that situation. This fic makes me happy and fit Jacob so well.

Hoplessly Devoted - this Han fic was such a silly one to write. I felt like crap when I wrote it. I started writing it because I needed a distraction. I'm glad I did write it, a lot of people enjoyed it.

Masquerade - I had never written a soul mate au before. I am very proud of this work. The world I created in this fic made me happy. I like the concept of it being your eyes that change, so i wrote it. Hyunjin worked so well to lead into this world, I'm excited for the next one (which is in the works).

Invisible - This Lee Know story actually started off as a Bang Chan story. However the characters quickly made that change for me. I really love this story how it played out. I also LOVE Halloween so I took lore from D&D, Supernatural, and many other 'creepy' things and combined them in this story.

Knights Tale: The Nature worker - This is the fic I believe I am most proud of. I put in a lot of effort into this one, sadly it has gotten very little love. Maybe it's the length? Anyways this story was always meant for Changbin. I always have pictured him to be a wonderful knight. In fact this is a world I hope to expand in as well. The other stories will follow the other skz Knights and nobles. I just haven't gotten to writing them yet.

Now to tag some of my favorite authors! Feel free to do this or not. 💕 @missskzbiased @mxxndreams @ateez-angel @blossom-hwa @thepixelelf

2 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

#2

I found more stairs while on my trip.

It was amazing "unplugging" for a week. (I still had my phone though it was just a fancy camera for that week).

I'll be honest I didn't write, none of the docs nor music worked on my phone like they said they would.

So I colored, and I read so many books! I read 4/5books (one of which was 5 stories in one). All of which had 300+ books except for one about Felix the dancing spider that was a children's book yet it was entertaining nonetheless.

I have ideas for stories. I have found I need to reorder some of my WIPs because they needed some changes.

Anyways I have returned.

I hope your all well!

4 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Kpop anatomy diagram. Featuring Minhyuk from BtoB

Part 2. My favorite back muscles 😅

@silvfeather being as you asked for a back one lol

18 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[gibbingtonwibbington]

Multiple story time:

Listening to your music made me super duper sad when I was sick cuz I couldn’t breathe and probably because I couldn’t sing along. I can mimic your voice probably the best out of any mimic singing I do. It’s just THAT WAY. I don’t know why, sometimes it’s kinda creepy. I’m not about to sing along in like…. Opera style. Unless you had some opera type music of course lol. Lyyyyyke, I wouldn’t sing like Frank Sinatra if I was singing along to a Britney Spears song ya kno. Hmm… that actually sounds like a super fuckn awesome combo though. 🧐 hm…

I was actually getting REALLY fuckin pissed after my natural, bored, monotone, robotic-sounding speaking voice came back. Yes I am aware that when I am bored, it is annoyingly obvious. Haha. BUT still, !GONE! was my loud and beloved shrill-squeak “Gibby voice”. The Gibby voice is just an adjustment of my ‘Courtney is really excited’ voice. Going further back, as I’ve said before (because I definitely repeat myself on here for the purpose of releasing repetitive, maddening energies)…the Gibby voice is originally a toned down derivative of *THE* Penny voice. However, not NEARLY as loud. Penny was VERY loud. Penny was definitely my loudest character voice EVER…and that’s pretty fuckin loud, man. I gta show you Penny. I can’t believe I haven’t taken a photo of her and shown you yet. Wow. My entire family, especially my aunt Nancy and my mom, STILL fkn talk about Penny and how gdamn loud she was. When I was a kid, doing my pretend Penny talking, they would say things like “Penny is quite loud for this time of night. I think Penny needs to go to bed.” Hahaha. I just drooled cranberry juice laughing. I got cranberry juice on my favorite white comforter!!! Nooo!!! Fuck, hold on a sec…

Okay I’m back. They also STILL use a bunch of funny quotes from things that I or Penny said in all seriousness, when I was just a kid. I’ll have to ask them which ones they remember and write them down. There are many..& they are more adult-sounding than something that came from the mouth of a five year old. I’ve always been crazy. Who cares.

They also still laugh about the time at Watercountry, when I started with some huge, fat-muscled, bald, biker dude w a Hell’s Angels tattoo. Started w him at the lazy river, over an inner tube that I was reaching for first. That dirty, dirty , kid piss-filled place. Ugh. Anyway, I mean, this guy SAW that I almost had it. Plus, I was super young and wanted to be with my cousin, not ALONE sitting in a huge fuckin tube that I could barely move in, in order to catch up w her. Like wtf dude. So I got pissed when he just grabbed it and didn’t give it to me. I even remember that this guy was fuckin by himself. Like ..DA FUK?! So I grabbed the tube out of his hands and gave him a “really dude?” kind of child mean mug. My mom said that he looked at her and my aunt like “Yo, your fucking kid has some nerve to do that to ME.” So they look at each other n then looked at him like “🤷🏻‍♀️ I don’t know man, I didn’t do it…I didn’t birth her.” haha.

“I didn’t birth her, I just bought her.” Bahahaha. 😏 N I was candidly, off and relaxing in MYYY goddamn inner tube.

😎

Rewind for a second, I hate the spelling of the word squeak too.. remember my minor bitch fit over the word “tweak” not having two Es? Same animal here. Even Jillian Jigz HATED tweak not having two es and she’s a grammar tyrant. She even spelled it with two Es. Mostly because that word for us meant something on a whole other level, kind of making it a whole different word. I suck at spelling sometimes. Most words I have misspelled were either done on purpose… or I was braindead at the moment. My entire self likes to fly around in the atmosphere by myself sometimes. Oh yeah, or if I’m using speak type, it likes to use the wrong word entirely. The new download for my shit iPhone, my spell check and my speaky typey was absolutely at a disconnect with life…& my soul. It’s getting much better now. Definitely learning my way of talking muuuuuch better. If my speak type was a real human, it would have already hung itself from a rafter.

Speaking of my flying around in the atmosphere and day dreaming. Once at the end of the year, one of my teachers told us all to stand at the blackboard (yes it was actually still a blackboard) …actually it was a super vintage green board. Yup, chalk. I don’t know why it was green but that specific section of the school was complete with fantastically-rusted 60s hardware and appliances. So, standing in front of our decked out 60’s style accommodated classroom, this teacher went and sat at every person’s desk, mocking aka doing his best impression of each person in the class. IAs soon as I knew what his plan was I was thinking… oh no….😬. But when he got to me, he just sat there and stared out the window. I would always just sit there and stare out the window at the two huge maple trees that blew so pretty pretty in the wind. The school was on top of a huge hill, so they were always dancing. Wachusett was HUGE and now, it’s even bigger. Sometimes you couldn’t even get to class in time because five minutes wasn’t long enough to beat the traffic to your next class. This fucking math teacher that used to drool and spit and have fun with the sides of her mouth had menopause and would open the windows in winter. She was such a bitch about it and said if we didn’t bring a jacket then tough cookies we wouldn’t be able to go get it. Nobody was able to go get their jacket in between classes, it was impossible. She probably knew this and did it on purpose and said that on purpose because she was a fucking client I’ve been looking for her online for years to send her awful messages and I can’t find her ass. I’m not even joking. I already sent one of my math teachers messages about how much he’s basically a piece of shit. Everyone hated her. She drooled on one of my homework pieces one time and I circled it and I wrote Mrs. Tolis drooled on this” and purposely passed it in. This is the same teacher that grabbed Julian‘s homework off of my desk that I was making for her and crumbled it up and threw it in the trash because on the back of it I was drawing a picture of her being rabbit and drooling like a dog. I don’t know if she saw it or not but I hope she did. Before she could walk away I grabbed it back and then the whole classroom gasped and then she grabbed it back from me. It’s like bitch that’s someone’s homework.. TF?! She almost got fired one year cuz, funny enough Meredith, the nose flarer’s sister told us she taught the wrong material for a complete semester. Good times. They ripped outcthe best parts of the school and made it ugly and boring. There was this huge glass staircase at the front of the school. A shit load of people fell down that thing many times but who cares it was so cool. Now it’s gone the year after we graduated in 2003 they ripped out everything and redid the parts they ripped out. Now it looks stupid. my other favorite part of the school was the incredibly creepy gymnasium in the back. There were two gymnasiums in the front and then one down a really narrow creepy hallway which had other hallways that led to it that were never lit. The downstairs bathroom was creepy too.. because you had to use another long narrow creepy hallway that was never lit to get to it. Then there was a few really weird classrooms down in the basement where that lone bathroom was, that had tables and desks and chairs all toppled all over each other in it and they didn’t use either of them. They could’ve totally used that for so much stuff but for some odd reason they didn’t use it. I bet somebody got killed in there or something and they didn’t want to use it. So they kept throwing old broken shit on top of the last old broken shit that they threw in there. It looks like a wood bonfire except it was old metal chairs and desks. Shit’s probably haunted or something. Lol. It looked like a perfect place for a haunted, abandoned school horror movie or somethin. It was awesome. They bulldozed ALL of that away. That’s some despicable bs I tell you. We were the last year students to use it which was weird.

Even in middle school we had this really old hallway for the seventh and eighth grade wing. We were the last grade to use that old shit too, so they let us draw pictures and write all over it. Of course a ton of people just wrote a bunch of shit about other people and people got in trouble. My friend Joe had the most pink slips out of anybody in our grade & probably out of any grade that has ever been there. It was over 40 I think it was like 45 or something actually I’m gonna ask him because it might’ve even been in the 50s. At one point in time he didn’t give a shit and he purposely kept trying to get pink slips to see how many he could get by the end of 8th grade, the last year we were there. Eighth grade isn’t always the last year out of school. West Boylston school had the middle school wings connected to the high school wings..because it was so small. They never gave homework and it was the easiest shit ever it was like retard school. Anyway I love to change subjects it’s fine. Anyway, A lot of his pink slips were for really stupid shit. Like, talking. “Oh no! He spoke again! Send him down to the principal!”

There was this one time in 8th grade Spanish class when I said something funny outloud, I don’t remember what I said but he could not stop laughing and had to go in the hallway. Every time he came back in after he was done laughing, I would look at him and he would just start laughing n had to go back in the hallway. Fuckin Joe, good times man, gooooood, good fuckin times.

Speaking of that specific Spanish class…the teacher, Mrs. Scarcella, would always say “AAAAHORA!” aka “Noooow…” At LEAST ten times before moving on to the next subject during EVERY freaking class. She’d flare out her nostrils and would say it the exact same way every damn time, unnecessarily. So the one time when she actually had us do something remotely interesting for a project grade, Jigz & I got a bunch of the girls we could tolerate, together to do this Spanish skit. We had to make a fake weather report or some shit and do the whole thing in Spanish (obviously) and every person had to do something different, but it all had to be weather reports. Fuckin stupid idea, there’s only one weather report during the news. 🤷🏻‍♀️ We all thought it was stupid so we basically just used the skit for the purpose of mocking our obnoxious and bitchy teacher. So before everyone’s skit we all said “AAAAHORA!” . I already felt disgusting about how I looked at the time so I refused to flare my nostrils like the teacher. I’m laughing this is funny, but this girl Meredith flared her nostrils like I’ve never seen before in my life and I’m still fuckn happy about it.

Fuck I just erased a whole paragraph. Anyway…For my skit I chose to mock that new twister movie at the time. So I was on crutches and pretended I got hit by the cow that was flying through the air.. I was sitting in Jill’s basement on a very old push-up type of work out table. I don’t know what it’s fucking called but you know those tables that people lay down on and push the weights up and then it comes down on those little forks or whatever. I was sitting on one of those things with crutches and laughing my ass off because Jill was being insane behind the camera. It was all so frickin insane that I literally fucking pissed my pants cuz I was laughing that hard. I legit pissed myself at the end of my skit so I was hobbling out of the scene when I was done…to get away, because I basically pissed myself on camera. Oh my god.  my cousin used to make me laugh so hard when I was a kid I always had to bring changes of underwear when I went over her house because it was just insane. But as I got older that happened much less, mostly because life sucked way more as it usually does when we get older. But yeah that time I absolutely pissed myself laughing and I couldn’t believe it which made me laugh even harder. So, we kept it…we kept it in the skit… because I didn’t wanna do it again. So there is a VHS tape somewhere where I am legit pissing my pants and fake hobbling away on crutches, while barely being able to breathe. Good times.

No, not done. Jillian chose rain. So I had a hose and I was trying to spray it up, putting my thumb over the hole to make it spray outwards, but it ended up spraying her directly in the face. She used liquid eyeliner at the time, so she had blackness just dripping everywhere down her face. The whole scene was of her outside in her driveway screaming “Está lloviendo!” over and over again. She couldn’t breathe either, due to me spraying her directly in the face. It was far away enough where it didn’t hurt her, but it was completely right in her face. We also kept that take, we didn’t redo that either.

Now, aka AAHORA! The most glorious part of the entire skit…the metronome. Jill had this antique metronome on top of her antique piano, that we set to a very slow tempo to put in a scene between every person’s skit. But it wasn’t just the metronome-meeheeeeee-we all were standing in a line, in the back of her living room table, while the metronome was in the forefront, slowly ticking away, as our heads and our pigtails bounced slowly from side to side matching the metronome lever. We did that EVERY time, in between every person’s skit. I believe there were seven of us. Jillian, myself, Melissa(cunt) Michelle (got pregnant at 15, has five kids and still is w the same guy. Fuckin BRAvO to her man. She gets some serious Courtney brownie points), Christina (cried at the roller rink because she couldn’t skate and we didn’t skate with her. But to be fair it was physically impossible for us to skate that slow)……and last but surely not least, wonderful Meredith, the professional nose flarer. So when we passed in the VHS tape, with the written version of it, we got it back with the grade and a comment which said “Very awkward.” We also watched ALL skits during class one day. We had a bunch of nutjobs in that class. I remember some kid Cody I was crushing on, in his skit he was pretending to be Yoda and had a big sweatshirt over his knees and was like walking around on his knees at Andrew (hotdogcunt’s) house. Nope, not done….The most awkward skit of all, wasn’t meant to be awkward. It was some really bizarre skit made by this other Andrew kid, just wrestling other boys in our grade and had the most obvious boner happening throughout the entire skit. The sweatpants he was always free-balled in made it ten times more obvious. I remember everyone was laughing at all the ridiculous skits until we got to his. Then, fuckin dead silence and looks around the room like…what-the-fuck Andrew#2?! Everybody was looking at everybody else however none of us could look him in the fucking face.  some of us couldn’t look at him ever again, like myself for one. It’s like… “hmm, hey Andrew #2, Did you forget to uhmm.. proof-watch this shit before passing it in?” He was always a weird kid though. Not the fun or funny type of weird either. Just the corny yet pretentious loser type of weird. I will throw him a bone though (no pun intended) and will say, maybe he had a crush on the teacher and knew about it the whole time. Passing it in not knowing the whole class would ALSO be watching it. Really though, I have no idea, maybe he thought the teacher would be impressed with his boner and his wrestling skills. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[pasta-and-hedgehogs]

I feel like ever since I have told Owen about the existance of my vent tumblr I have started to write for him as if he can see and I fo somtimes write to him in an open letter tell my frelings way but like that music post before is just if he sees and likes my music taste and whatever delusional fantasy thst comes with that even though I know he is in scotland and probably isnt thinking about my existance at all and I just have worked so hard to not make this a space where im fake and acting annother way for me to perform and to have people judge like I write in a poeyic and dramatic way sometimes just because idk it falls out of me I must just be so naturally talanted 🤭 *debby ryan* but like Idk it just feels hard to be my most vulnerable and true self when theres the threat that he might see usually whwn I bare my soul to him Im drunk (by usually I men the 2 times I have been). Anyway Ive come to the conclusion that as special as you where to me (in my head) I need to stop loving you I used to think that your thoughts where beautiful and filled to the brim with depth and description od the world of people I thought your words formed beautiful worlds to explore I no longer believe this to be true if I had to guess (I really want to guess and know) I would say your thoughts are more analytical based in truth grounded in reality and evidence im guessing that from your meassages you use few words I used to look for any menaing that had to be somthing more but there wasnt and still isnt a "ye" and "nice lol" is just what it looks like I wish that there was more I hope in future there is more but it cant be for me and it wont be for me. I wish I knew what your mbti is because im an INFP if I had to guess I would say introverted, sensing, and the other 2 I dont know so ISTP, ISTJ, ISFP, ISFJ, I wany to see which one sound most like you and no this isnt weird I just want to know more about you so im doing this without your knowing, after looking I feel like you are ISTJ which is the opposite of me apparently apart from introversion. I am not sure why I like tests so much my current theory is it gives me a sense of who I am but only they dont really do it that affectively but its fun to just feel like I can be categorised like there is a place for me like I do fit somewhere like I am normal I am a person but idk they are just fun.

#my posts

[mtnkat3]

Am I the rose or the thorn.

I grew up loving the rose, all parts of it.

For God. For the love of its beauty. Majesty.

But now...

I am feeling like...

The oldest bush in the grove, hidden away.

No one cares to see.

Because my roses are rare.

And my bush thick with scars.

My thorns long spikes to guard me.

Forgotten...

But yet...

I thought You Alll want...ed... me.

Even when

But yet...

You/Alll talk to others...

And my bush is bleeding from every orafice.

Because it's not me You Alll are being moved by.

It isn't my soul's pouring out like this that is moving You.

But yet...

I cannot hurt another soul that has also suffered.

So my soul is torn asunder...

I feel like... The Burning Bush...

But am I so Blessed to be talked to by my angels... my soul's Mate/s...???

Whimpering wailing moan.

DOne... I think You love me. I do not believe that You were trying to hurt me.

And the thought I hurt You...

It's just... that post...

Was to...

DPOne...

I went from feeling calm & reassured... that You DPOne... DOne... & Alll wanted me to be writing those sexy missives.

to ...this... You DPOne have shocked my souls foundations.

Tijgeress wailed so loud & hard I fell outta my chair.

See...remember... I've always written to You Alll my real self. Nothing fake. Completely my soul's bared truth.

Oh for You/Alll to read my welll... journals...

Once upon a long time ago...

You/Alll wanted to, & me Your/Alll's.

Also,

I had told You/Alll my many lifelong nicknames,

I think You each had a fsvorite...???

When You/Alll called me any... I glow love.

Those loving conversations sustained me.

Thru time, to the near, the added here & to the present.

See its really weird that God had me do that video post, I was confused as to why.

And then...

Is it renewed hope???

Or are You DPOne being kind??? To me??? Or to others???

Is my love enough...🎶

Will You/Alll believe in me...

See...thinking about plants...

I grew up next door to some giant sunflowers, like platters. I've always been addicted to the seeds. Even though wasn't allowed near those. I also grew up around so many beautiful flowering plants because of my family that I love them Alll. Natures abundance fills my senses with love. I've gotten to watch butterflies, bees & hummingbirds come to my mandevilla recently. It has warmed my soul.

But even it fades when we are having such issues.

I've been staring out my living room windows with my soul in tatters. Not knowing how to fix all this.

Is it all my fault. Yes. It always is.

But what have I misunderstood...

You/Alll are testing me is all I can figure.

But why with others... why that test?

This is my sticking point. My gears stuck.

It's either that You/Alll do love me & want me to fight for us so You/Alll are using this to call forth Tijgeress... knowing my fighting spirit.

Or... choices... free will.

And the others are the ones...

But I think its somewhere between these.

And it's the missing puzzle piece that my brain is frustrated by its missing. Stuck on.

I am a puzzle girl. Whether tangled jewelry, mysteries, murders, tactics, Color Guard routines, the physics of driving a car, flying a plane... awesome acrobatic flying like the Thunderbirds or Blue Angel's my favorites! Or the wonder of helping a seed grow into a plant & bear fruit.

Come to God with childlike faith.

Welll... I've been like that with the world I guess. At least the natural world.

People confuse me.

And when I'm trying with everything I've got in me to prove myself to You/Alll daily...

But yet... it evidently hasn't been enough. And this test was borne.

See... I am stumbling & struggling here DPOne.

I love You. I love DOne. & Alll.

But somehow I faltered in Your eyes...

I am confused.

You want to devour me...??? But yet???

DOne sent me...posted that...in love... but seeing the op... I lost it. Then more...

I cannot hurt someone.

But how do I fight for my soul's Mate/s souls...

As I lay here in the dark..wide awake & in pain I've no experience with...

I don't know how to fix this.

I will fight for You/Alll.

But I cannot hurt .

I am hurting.

And worse I feel a rip...tear... in our bond... & it is more than I can endure.

I have got to fix it. Or die.

Lightbulb.

Soul Mate/s.

Once found are never lost.

DPOne... DOne... & Alll... I feel like You/Alll just told me...

You/Alll love me.

It's my reactions to...???

See why that's hard DPOne... the particular posts & comments... they drove spikes thru my soul.

Not friendly. More.

And laid me bare at the base of the tree. With a widow maker thru me.

[See...I write in visuals... its how I think.]

And all these years of past, near & present... I've always been truthful.

Even when its difficult.

Even when I'm to blame.

Even though it's public & humiliating.

Even when others would say a white lie is ok.

No. I'm not taking the easy way.

I am taking the high moral ground.

I don't like lies.

I don't like the way I live. wh.

So. Again.

I've written because I'm crazy in love with You/Alll DOne, DPOne, & Alll.

I will win this war for You/Alll.

Or I will die first.

You/Alll want details?

This is my angst & my soul's intimate, vulnerable self open to You/Alll.

Do I think any of these mistakes or misunderstandings would be happening in person... no.

Communication.

It is vitally important to relationships.

Especially our as its unique.

OMG...please...

[3.25am] I was just kissing Your/Alll's foreheads & begging You/Alll to love me... & forgive me... to teach me... & help me grow better towards You/Alll. To know Your/Alll's souls so intimately that nothing like this ever happens again. Even knowing You/Alll will constantly test me. Which I welcome in person, where I can ask intimate questions & learn from You/Alll & my mistakes.

I don't understand why I must be publicly humiliated... unless... because of the years of isolation I need to see & learn to be my best self, the best Queen & mate for You/Alll.

You/Alll think I'm too soft???

That I need to have a better grasp on the Queen & t??? That I'm more evenly meshed with my spirit rather than what must seem like highs & lows. my Love/s...those only happen because it's You/Alll. Most of my dealings with humanity I'm a cool cucumber. I might rant at idiot drivers & such but I always try to be nice to everyone. Being bitchy is tantamount to losing, or being one. That is beneath me.

Oh the thought of kissing & healing every wound You/Alll have ever felt. Physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually.

Oh my Love/s... I know that I've been messing up. Maybe worst in the last month.. huh. Maybe my senses were telling g me something that needed addressing.

That I need to grow...into the woman I was Created to be. Not the shell I became because of negligence & bad judgment in my search for You/Alll.

I want to learn. From You/Alll. To be the best woman... mate... Queen... partner... lover... best friend... confidante...mother... for You/Alll.

I don't care what others say, humanity requires growth daily or we fall & stagnate.

I know this well. I have fought depression as its result.

I will grow.

Because I like myself when I am.

I give myself mental hi fives when I do.

I will fix this.

I will make it right.

I will always fight for You/Alll.

I will defend, shelter, & protect You/Alll.

With all that I am.

Even from me.

Even when.

Ok... almost 4am.

I love You/Alll.

DOne, DPOne, & Alll.

My soul belongs to You/Alll.

Always has, always will.

I will work on making me better for You/Alll minutely.

Humbled. bowed.

Confused. But listening.

~Your's DOne. Your's DPOne. & Alll.

🔱💝🗝♾⚓⚓⚓🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙏🙏🙏🌂🔗🧭🕯😔

4.00am

[noteguk]

bad attitude | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though! 

— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry 

— words; 7,2k 

— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation. 

Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;) 

Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target. 

Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all. 

And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved. 

Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex. 

Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed. 

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?” 

You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs. 

Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”

His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him. 

Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.” 

With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”

“Not at all,” he complained. 

The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?” 

Be good? 

Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention. 

In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss. 

It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem. 

In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits. 

Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening. 

Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time. 

As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned. 

The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.” 

He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”

“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."

“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.” 

He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way. 

Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved. 

You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.” 

Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”

But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history. 

Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer. 

And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member. 

If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.” 

Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away. 

“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”

“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?” 

He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.” 

He frowned. “Or what?”

You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.” 

Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his. 

Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.” 

And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.” 

You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.” 

He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move. 

Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.” 

It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”

“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.” 

They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried. 

You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.” 

He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up. 

“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.” 

Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.” 

“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.” 

He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.” 

“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.” 

“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.” 

“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.” 

That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” 

But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you. 

The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped. 

What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the  ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said. 

“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.” 

As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.” 

And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”

He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.” 

You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”

“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?” 

A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.” 

You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly. 

With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”

“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined —  when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”

You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.” 

“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.” 

You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?” 

“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.” 

“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock. 

With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”

“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.” 

His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release. 

“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”

Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said. 

“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.” 

You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?” 

It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.” 

You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.” 

And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.” 

A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?” 

He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.” 

You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him. 

After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that. 

“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.” 

That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him. 

“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.” 

“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?” 

He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.” 

No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you. 

Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point. 

His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.” 

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.” 

Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”  

You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes. 

“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.” 

With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was. 

“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.” 

Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.” 

You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“

“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat. 

The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath. 

“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.” 

~ 

Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it. 

“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“

“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”

~

check out the rest of the bad influence collection! 

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[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mechakoopa

Debut: Super Mario World

So a very polite anon has humbly requested we write a post about Mechakoopa! They are apparently this person's favorite, so today's their lucky day! See I don't like to brag but, I'd definitely consider myself as part of the top 100 most qualified people to talk about Mechakoopas in the world! And who am I to turn down such a request?

Now the 90s you see, were a turning point for good Mr. Bowser here. With a brand new clown-helicopter thing to pilot around you might think he's all set, but what kind of self-respecting villain would he be without filling his evil lair with a number of Evil Wind-up Toys based on himself? So he does exactly that- a whole fourteen years before Mario stole his idea, mind you!

Yes, you read that right! Despite their name, Mechakoopas are tiny mechanical versions of Big Bowser himself, not just any run of the mill Koopa, which explains their green heads and funky hair! You know how Koopa is actually Bowser's Japanese name? Yeah! They could've localized them as Mecha-Bowsers, but Mechakoopa just flows nicer doesn't it? And he is still technically a Koopa!

"Yo, somebody rang?"

No!! Not you, Mecha-Bowser from Super Mario Sunshine (2002)!! You'll get your turn eventually! Geez! Anyway. Where was I. Oh! Yes!

This is the obligatory part of the post where I'm like “Get a load of this funky guy”! Get a load of this funky guy! Instead of reinterpreting Bowser’s design very literally in toy form, the Mechakoopa is very much its own beast, with its funny beak and little funny legs. Our aforementioned anon mentioned the wind-up key, and oh, what a wind-up key it is! And of course the raisin d’eclair- the fantastic little googly eyes! Oh where would we be without those googly eyes?

Naturally though, Bowser doesn’t just use his toys to populate his spooky castle- he always has to keep a few on his person! So he chucks them at you in the game’s final boss fight, but he didn’t account for the fact that, in this game only, Mario can throw upwards! Oh no! His one weakness! Being pelted with plastic!

By the by, I’ve always thought the original Mechakoopa sprite from Super Mario World looked super funky! The hair almost looks like its on fire! And I like the goofy grin. 

The Super Mario World cartoon decided to interpret this sprite by turning him into a horrible little man. No, I don’t want this! He shouldn’t have arms!

The Mechakoopa’s next appearance in a mainline Mario platformer was in New Super Mario Bros. Wii, where they act... exactly the same as they do in Super Mario World! Cool! This basically established them as modern Mario enemies, but there isn’t much to say other than that!

Like all our posts about Common Mario Enemies, it would probably be boring if I just listed off their every appearance, so I will just bring up the ones that are worth mentioning. For example, Super Mario RPG! In this game, Bowser’s strongest special attack is Bowser Crush, which summons a giant Mechakoopa to stop on foes! According to the Player’s Guide, this Mechakoopa was a top secret weapon developed by Koopa researchers... to stomp flowers and scare butterflies! Wow! That is so so evil! These big guys would definitely live up to the name “Mecha-Bowser”! 

“Hey guys, are you talking about me?”

NO, we are NOT talking about you, Mecha Bowser (with no hyphen) from Mario Kart: Double Dash (2003)’s Bowser’s Castle course! Get the heck outta here! Gosh, some people just don’t know when they’re not wanted!

I am sure after all this you are wondering, they may be mechanical toys but can they do math? The answer is yes obviously! This is Mechakoopa from Mario Party Advance, and they’re a mathematician! They invented Mechakoopa’s Theorem, the very real mathematical theorem that we all used in school! Everyone give them a round of applause!

I’d like to bring up their appearances in the Mario & Luigi games, not because it’s particularly notable, but because of how much I like their sprite and idle animation! Look at the wind-up key spin around and the eyes go up and down! So cute! Oh, and also because in the Superstar Saga remake they replaced the Mecha-Chomp enemies (may god rest their souls)!

Super Mario Maker 2′s final update was an epic win and a #1 victory royale for Mechakoopa fans anywhere, since it not only added Mechakoopas to all four main game themes, but also two brand new variants: the Blasta Mechakoopa (in red) and the Zappa Mechakoopa (in blue)! 

As you might expect, they can Blast (missiles) and Zap (lasers) respectively! I’ve no idea why they added these random functionalities to Mechakoopas specifically, but they’re a lot of fun and some of the most unique projectiles in the game! Zappa? I barely know ‘a! 

Oh, and I almost forgot! They are in Super Smash Bros. as well! Bowser Jr.’s moveset is a treasure trove of little references to Mario gadgets, and even though Bowser no longer tosses these guys from his Clown Car, his son has taken up the job! Only in this game, Mechakoopas explode. Uh oh! They didn’t do that before! Still, I really like popping a Mechakoopa out of its Mechakoopa Compartment just to see it wander around the stage. It’s fun!

Now that’s all I have to say about good old Mechakoopas, but I’d like to give a special shoutout to this guy in particular- the Micro Mecha-Bowser, from Super Mario Galaxy! For a long time, I assumed they were just Mechakoopas with a different design... But this definitely looks like a beefed up version of the Mechakoopa, with their big goofy teeth, their pig nose and their funky cross-hair eyes! These dudes can breathe fire too, so they really are more like Bowser! And if there’s a Micro Mecha-Bowser, there’s gotta be a normal one!

“Whassup? I heard somebody call my name!”

Harumph! Nobody called you, Mecha-Bowser from Super Mario Galaxy (2007)’s Toy Time Ga- Er... hold on a second. You actually are exactly the person I was talking about after all! My mistake! Though I do wish you’d at least give us a heads up when you’re gonna show up, given you’re the size of a small planetoid!

Yeah, the Micro Mecha-Bowsers are named after this big robot from Toy Time Galaxy, Mecha-Bowser (not to be confused with Mecha-Bowser or Mecha Bowser)! Though I have to say, there isn’t much family resemblance! He’s so blue and un-turtle like! Still, this must’ve been my favorite mission in Galaxy as a kid- I’d replay it over and over again just because the idea of climbing on a giant planet-sized robot and dismantling it piece by piece was so cool! It was like Shadow of the Colossus before I knew what the heck that was!

Well that’s about the extent of the Mechakoopa family. Isn’t it fun? There’s a moral to be learned here, and it’s that, uh... little wind-up toys are very charming! Um, I suppose. Look, writing conclusions is hard! 

Mechakoopa

#mario #mario enemies #mechakoopa #micro mecha-bowser #super mario world #mod f boy