#but the writing in this game just. does not hold enough weight to support such a complex idea

[xhoneygirlxx]

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

-

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

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#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

[bonesox]

OM! Brothers and The Little Ways They Say They Love You

a/n: Sorry if some of the writing is sloppy. Also wanted to thank you all for the support you have given me <3

Lucifer:

Since his plate is alway full of things to do he barely finds time to actually be with you alone. It's either you, him and his brothers or you, him and his work. He had to come up with a way to keep showing his love without being around.

It would start with him leaving you good morning notes. He was always up before everyone else in the house so he would sneak in to your room and slip the note, and maybe even a special gift, on your bedside table. Each note would detail his exact thoughts about you. If you had done your hair nicely he would write about it. If you had made him laugh he would write about it. If you had done anything whatsoever he would write about it!

When you two had alone time he, of course, would say "I love you", but sometimes actions speak louder than words. He would set up a cozy spot for you to cuddle up in and lock the door so no one could distract him. He would tell Diavalo the previous day about his plans with you so he would not ruin it when the time came. You do anything from talking to watching a movie to other things [ ;) ].

Mammon:

When his words do fail, which is most of the time.. he just loved you so much, he tries to come up with other ways to say it. He tried to leave letters, but felt a little embarrassed writing about you and the things he loves about you.

He would go out and pick some of the flowers you had/have pointed out while walking with him. When a random vase of beautiful wild flowers magically appeared in your room over night you knew exactly who they were from. Once the flowers started to die he would replace them. After a few months he showed you a scrap book he had made of each type of flower he had picked for you. Next to each flower he would write a snippet about each journey he had taken with you to discover each flower.

Sometimes he would prepare a special meals for just the two of you (with help). He might go over board with the food every time, but he always gets so excited to share a meal with you. Later into the evening he would always hand you a gift he had saved up for. You never knew what it could be... maybe a candy ring, a real ring, or even gift baskets of the very things you love.

Leviathan:

Though it may not seem like it he is quite the romantic... at least mostly online. Since he gets too flustered to say he tries to come up with other ways to say it.

There was a new roleplaying game that was coming out soon and he had been bringing it up to you over and over again. In the game you could play with friends, build a cozy home, go on adventures, and maybe even start a family... Haha, but he didn't tell you the last part. While playing the game you both acted like a married couple making sure each other were healthy, there was enough money and food, and that the house was tidy. When the option to get married came up in the game there was a silence in the room... he had no idea what to even say! You had agreed to get married which lifted a weight off his shoulders. He may even call you his partner (married) in real life by accident.

When he does build up the courage to actually vocalize his feelings to you he wants it to be perfect. He sets up a place in a garden and take you there at night. While sitting on a bench he starts talking about all the fun things you did together that week. Then it turns into all the things he loves doing with you... which then turns into him repeating over and over again that he loves you. While you sit there in the moonlight you hold each others hands and rest your heads on each other. This boy sure does love you.

Satan:

Since he had been punished for the whole month there was nothing he could do outside of the house except for go to school. He had wanted to take you on so many dates, but there was a limit to what he could and couldn't do.

He had been studying the stars for a few weeks now and he wanted to share them with you. He takes you out into the garden on a clear night where a picnic blanket is set up with a few snacks and drinks. Laying down he points at the stars and names them. Once you got cold he would wrapped you up in a blanket and lay with you.

He had been getting into this very famous human poet, William Shakespeare. He became completely enthralled by his sonnets. Some were snarky and others were lovely. He had decided to write a few for you. Each sonnet contained all of your best qualities (all of them). Each night he would read one to you while you sat under the stars.

Asmodeus:

Though he says "I love you" 100 times a day he doesn't think it really gets through to you. He had to come up with a perfect idea just to get that point across!

In the morning there was a little note left on your mirror saying later that day to meet Asmo in his room for a little surprise. When the time came you went to his room to find out what he had planned. When you entered his room you could smell a beautiful aroma coming from his bathroom with the sound of water running. He quickly undressed you and put you in a robe that just so happened to be matching with him. He quickly lead you into the bathroom where a bath/s [depends on what you want ;)] was being drawn with bubbles almost spilling out the top of them. Next to the tub/s there was little snacks, drinks and some face mask. You both hopped into the tub/s with a feeling of relief coming from both of you.

While he could buy you everything you wanted nothing beat spending quality time together. You both were wrapped up in a blanket cuddling near the fireplace as it snapped and popped. You laid on each other as the fire slowly died out and once it did you both fell asleep right in each others arms.

Beelzebub:

This man loves you to the moon and back... there was no doubt about that, but sometimes he wants to show you how far he is willing to go just to do that.

He prepares a special breakfast just for you. The willpower it took to cook with food, bring it up to you, and hand it to you without eating it was intense. He would sit on your bed with his head in your lap, near your legs, or he was just sitting right next to you. He would watch as you took every single bite and would try to hide the drool that would fall down from his mouth. After a while of watching you he would ask for ONE bite.. he would also specify this so he wouldn't eat all of your food. When you do feed him the bite you can see in his eyes that he wants even more. He, of course, politely ask for a second bite.. and then a third, then a fourth, and before you know it he is licking your plate clean.

Since in is free time he is working out he takes you with him! His work out isn't much just 100 sit up, 100 push ups, 100 pull ups, run for 12 miles... and so on depending on how much time he has in a day. He always starts his work outs in his room. He had ask you to hold his feet for him while he did his sit ups. When he started doing them he had a sly smile on his face every time he came up. He whispered something to you when he got close to your face... and then every single time after that he would do it. Who knows what he said... but the workout soon ended after that ;).

Belphegor:

There is only so many hours in a day when one spends most of them sleeping. With these limited hours awake he wanted to make sure he spends most, if not all, of them with you.

He had taken you on a trip to the grocery store for an errand he had to run. As you went down the isles it had reminded you that you were quite hungry. For every thing you pointed out he would put in the cart. Later that night you both cooked something up with what you had gotten.

Since he cant get enough hours while being awake with you he wanted to spend all his hours asleep with you! He had cleared out one of his drawers so you could add some of your clothing to it and he also cleared a space in his bathroom for your things. Though you live in the same house and it would be easy to get these things from your room he just wanted them there so you didn't have to move! Each night you would fall asleep in his arms.

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me fluff #obey me scenarios

[inkpot909]

I loved your one shot with Spike! He was soo pure with his feelings 😭Do you have any HC’s for when Spike realizes got a crush and he’s fallen in love with them?

A/n: Thank you so much for the lovely message; I’m glad you liked the one-shot! Spike Spiegel is one of my absolute favorite characters of all time, so I was more than happy to write this request for you. I hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): Swearing.

Falling in love overall brings out the best in Spike Spiegel. 

Having a special someone in his life gives him the extra kick in the ass he often needs to keep motivated. Not long after realizing his feelings, many aspects of his life become something done ‘for you.’

He works hard as a bounty hunter, earning money in order to have the ability to support the both of you and show off his successes (you’re just about the only member on the Bebop he willingly financially assists). Taking a more active role in caring for Ein was born purely from wanting to share the weight with you.

Now, don’t be mistaken, he’s still your lazy yet loveable Spike. But there’s added pride in what he does that wouldn’t be quite the same without you in the picture.

Spike does not shy away from flirting. It comes to him naturally, meaning he’ll flirt with you a good amount even before learning the extent of his feelings. He’s confident, has his fair share of romantic experiences, and is aware he’s the type to turn heads.

What mainly separates his treatment of you and his short-term relationships/hookups, is that he’s very reactionary. Spike deeply cares about you, so he’s going to take his time in studying your body language and responses to his flirts. He’s patient enough to put in the time, and persistent enough to put in the work.

He’ll adjust his actions according to your responses, especially if you’re shy and don’t favor getting teased in front of other people. His usual approach is quite forward, regardless of location or the people around. But if that makes you nervous, he’ll start off much more discrete. Discomforts such as those matter a lot to him, as what’s important to you is important to him. And ultimately, he hopes that you’ll return his interest. 

Not only that, but he’s a total showoff. From smoothly beating up a group of assholes, to lying about the amount of times he wins at card games with Jet. Even if you merely blush or smile, that’s good enough incentive for him. Jet once even felt the need to inform you it’s best to take what Spike tells you about his own skills with a grain of salt.

However, humor him and play along with the joke- he thinks it’s adorable. It boosts his ego, sure, but deep down he longs to know your opinion of him. Even if it’s tongue and cheek, it warms his heart to believe that you think so highly of him.

Before long, it’ll turn into a common conversation shared only between the two of you; especially when alone. It’s one of many inside jokes he’ll be sure to form with you.

Spike is also very protective. He wouldn’t ever describe himself as possessive, but he certainly likes keeping you within arms reach.

If you’re not a bounty hunter, he’s going to want to know where you are and how you’re doing quite often. Partially, he loves being your knight in shining armor, but it goes a bit deeper than that. The thought of not being able to keep you safe from his past or present… it eats away at his brain. 

But if you're a bounty hunter as well, or generally engage in a dangerous lifestyle like him, he’ll hold back just a bit. He knows you can hold your own in tough situations (undoubtedly a huge reason as to why he fell for you in the first place). He does have his moments, though, where letting you run off towards peril is done begrudgingly. It’s hypocritical of him, but he cannot stand whenever you leave the Bebop without telling him beforehand. Spike could care less if Faye or Jet know about where you rush off to; just be sure to let him know. He’ll grow sick with worry if you’re gone for days on end, and isn’t above lecturing you on your recklessness.  

Initially, it will admittedly take some time for him to realize how he feels about you. Especially if you meet after Julia’s unfortunate end, he’ll be closed off from his own emotions.

Regardless of that, he’s going to need a bit of a push. The life of a bounty hunter isn’t exactly a glamorous one, and he finds it difficult to deny his own hesitance over long-term relationships.

Luckily, the step he needs to take isn’t a large one. Just a moment of clarity; a skip of his heart beat. Full understanding of the warmth that builds within his chest every time you’re together practically comes at him with a steel chair. It was on an average afternoon, after having caught a decently-sized bounty:

With his chin held up, a cheeky whistle plays on Spike’s lips. Passers by give him a variety of strange looks, turned off by the tied-up man he’s practically dragging behind him. John Pilgrim was the name; a rowdy criminal with a shiny price tag attached to his person.

He tugs at his binds, letting out an obnoxious curse towards the bounty hunter. A mother walking by gives both him and Spike a disgusted look, covering her small child’s ears. Smiling casually, Spike gives her a nod and a pleasant “Howdy.”

Turning a corner, the Bebop is sitting just yards away. Ein’s excited barks quickly reach his ears; running circles around the ship's landing site. Ed is dancing around the chipper dog, cartwheeling and mimicking Ein’s yips. Jet is tinkering with Faye’s personal ship, a large frown on his face. You’re standing beside him, holding a bright red toolbox and observing his work in silent awe. 

Glancing at Ein, Jet raises a brow. Searching for the source of the dog’s glee, Jet is the first to notice Spike’s return. “Oi, Spike!” Jet calls out, immediately removing himself from Faye’s trashed ship. Ed stops cartwheeling, and your head perks up. 

“Spike!” you squeak. Your hands both clasp over your heart, dropping the toolbox on top of Jet’s foot.

“Yowch! Fuck!” the older man shouts, inhaling a sharp breath. His knee bends upward, hopping on one foot as he mumbles more curses and profanities underneath his breath. Ed erupts in laughter, pointing at Jet. As always, any mocking tone in Ed’s voice is totally unintentional. “Jet Black! Jet Black! Give him some slack!”

Spike stops walking towards the Bebop, sighing. Home sweet home. 

“Spike!” you call again. His eyes search for you, having lost track of you on top of the Bebop. He’s taken aback upon spotting you running towards him on ground-level. “You’re okay!” you pant, slowing to a stop in front of him before long. You clutch your stomach, having rushed yourself off the Bebop in mere seconds. 

“Whoa, whoa, of course I’m alright,” he chuckled, nodding towards his annoyed captive. “Got the job all done and everything.” 

“Well-...” you pause in order to take a breath, “You’d stopped responding to us. I figure that’s also why you don’t have your racer?” 

He nods, “Yeah; I’m sure Jet will be happy to repair it when he’s done cleaning up Faye’s mess.” 

You giggle, covering a hand over your mouth. Tilting your head to the side, you tell him earnestly, “I’m really so glad you’re safe… I was damn near ready to head out and look for you myself. Next time, tell us you’re abandoning your vehicle. Don’t get me so concerned! I worry about you, you know.” 

Spike’s eyebrows rise in unison, and both his hands release any tension. Now… that’s real interesting. ‘I worry about you…’ your words echo in his mind. Briefly, he recalls past missions. You always are the first to greet him whenever he returns. A bright smile is spread on your lips regardless of whether or not the bounty was caught. Even if the others are annoyed, it never halts your expressed happiness. You’ve even engulfed him in tight hugs before, so thankful that in your joy, you’ve damn near thrown yourself at him.

‘I worry about you…’ 

Heat rushes to Spike’s cheeks. In slow motion, he watches you race back towards the Bebop. You’re going off about how you’re going to “tell Faye you’re back safe and sound!” but the majority of what you say flies over his head. Your arms spread wide and chin tilts upwards. Inspecting your body language, Spike swallows a gulp of spit.

Why hadn’t you hugged him this time if you were so concerned? He wouldn’t oppose it. No, he wouldn’t. In fact, his heart pounds desperately against his ribcage just imagining you taking the opportunity. Your arms wrapped around him, head buried in the crook of his neck, and the both of you sharing each others’ warmth. Even if it lasts for a moment…

Turning back to him, your smile falls. “Spike!” you exclaim, frantically tripping over your own feet as you stumble into another run.

Chuckling, Spike closes his eyes. In dramatic fashion, he opens his arms for you to rush into. He ignores his flushing cheeks, and pushing through the possibility of Jet or Ed watching him act like some romantic gush. Instead, he braces himself for impact.

Running footsteps blitz right past him, leaving his arms empty, and a tiny gust of wind fanning his face. “Huh?” Spike blurts, turning. 

You’re running after John Pilgrim, wiggling away as discreetly as he can muster. He’s still bound up, but while Spike got lost in his thoughts, he’d slipped from the bounty hunter’s grasp with ease. You barely manage to keep up but with a single lunge forward, you tackle the man to the ground. He struggles against your grip, but you keep him pinned down, a feat made easier due to his restraints. “Spike!” you yell, “Why the hell did you let him go!?” 

“Shit!” Spike exclaims, jerking his body forward and chasing after you. 

After that day, Spike Spiegel no longer can define his feelings for you as anything other than affectionate and loving. It’s so clear to him at that point he’s nearly ashamed to have not understood before.

But being in such a state of mind allows hope to flood his heart, so he doesn’t get hung up on the fact. Instead, he immediately starts making up for lost time.

#cowboy bebop #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #jet black #faye valentine #ed #radical edward #ein #y/n #headcanon #drabble #writing #requested #anon ask #anime #manga #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #romance #imagine #my writing #johnny’s work

[pokemonunderdogtournament]

From running these, does it seem like older Pokemon tend to be more popular versus newer ones, or is it any pokemons game? I feel like I tend to see older 'mons winning in matchups against newer ones the majority of the time, but that might be some sort of confirmation bias on my end.

Whew ok! Sorry this took me so long to reply to. This kinda caught me right at the start of the busy period, and I didn't want to give it a half-assed answer, especially because I wasn't really super sure if I was seeing any notable trends. (Most of the time I dedicate to maintaining this event is spent setting things up instead of reviewing data!)

Here are some rough and probably not precisely accurate numbers:

For my health I don't have the time to write out proper descriptions, so hopefully my discussion will be helpful enough, especially because it can be fairly easy to draw some inaccurate conclusions from this specifically because it uses a lot of hard numbers vs ratios.

You can find that down here ⬇ (readmored for scrollability)

First table:

Gen 2 and Gen 7 (!) are performing the strongest overall. Gen 9 and Gen 5 (!!) are performing the most poorly. I figure Gen 9 isn't faring too well for a multitude of reasons -- most notably, I think, people haven't really had time to grow attached to these guys yet. To speculate on Gen 5, I have a few theories. Gen 5 introduced a lot of new Pokemon, interest gets spread out (though I am surprised that age-group nostalgia isn't helping it more along here...). If I recall correctly, a lot of the designs were also quite heavily critiqued, though I've never paid much attention to that sort of commentary.

I'm honestly surprised that Gen 1 is that close to even, but then I don't think it helps that a lot of the less popular designs keep popping up to be repeatedly swept... The data set isn't large enough to avoid being easily influenced by various sub-tournaments haha.

Second table:

This one looks at each generation and how it compares to matches where it was paired with older generations. Earlier generation results are less helpful because, for instance, Gen 2 only has to contend with Gen 1, but Gen 8 has to contend with Gens 1-7... I wasn't sure how to break this up more properly, and I've already spent so much time on this 😅 I could probably figure it out with time but I don't want to keep this ask on hold for like 3 more months. I think it's interesting to see how notably well Gen 7 performs here, like it has a notable number of wins though it's dealing with 6 entire generations.

Anyway, more red in the ratios (basically, more instances where Pokemon of a given generation lost to older gens more than they won) supports the hypothesis.

Third table:

Basically the opposite of the above. More green means more generations that fared better against the generations after it. Gen 5 is the only one who doesn't have this, but it's even. It's won as many Gen 6-9 polls as it's lost

Gen 8 being the strongest here is a little funny, but it just means that Gen 8 has been performing super well when specifically placed in contrast to Gen 9. The fact that there are so few polls in this category probably is why the ratio can get so high at all though.

Generation Gap Average:

This one's a bit hard for me to explain but it basically is concerned with how much the earliest generations perform against the latest generations, but close-generation matches take a lot of weight out of the end result. Basically though a smaller number means that the Generations aren't AS stratified. There's enough love for newer Gens vs older ones. This number hovered much closer to 1 for most of the data gathering.

Idk if this is helpful, but here's the formula:

=AVERAGE(ARRAYFORMULA(IF(B2:B-A2:A<>0, B2:B-A2:A,)))

The A col lists the winners and the losers are in B, so it's literally just averaging the difference between the winner and the loser. The best conclusion we can draw from this is that there is a preference toward older generations. If there was a preference toward newer ones, the number would be negative.

Old/New:

Literally just the number of older generation wins divided by newer generation wins, which you can see right next to that, so yeah older Gens, relative to the other Gen in the poll, have quite a bit of a lead.

Other notes:

In more recent polls, voting is actually skewing more toward later generations, but at the start, which notably voted on starters, voting was HEAVILY skewed toward older generations vs newer ones. It was unfortunately because I noticed this that I ended up having to collect data from all the (relevant) polls because those trends pretty strongly impacted the results...

Anyway! I don't feel confident to make any conclusions outright, but now at least we have an idea of what the numbers look like right now! Lots can be gleaned from this.

#inquiries #apologies if i wrote something that doesn't make like . syntactical sense. i can't process words very well right now #so i can't reliably proof my own writing. rip. #on account of. having a truly shamefully small amount of sleep over the past hm. i guess week at this point

[saltymongoose]

Finally it's the not awaited time that i talk about hofnarr (hopefully thats how you write his dumb name)

He is just as obsessed as everyone else but he tries to hide it VERY hard (he is not doing a good job at that). He buys everything that the other nexus workers make about the player and his room is like 99% about the player and like 2 things about slaughter time (he needed to take a lot of things off of his room to make space for all his money spending on player "merch")

And what kills him once they meet? Well everything from the feeling of their bright eyes on him, their shorter stature (which they complained about since informing him of their expectancy of him being at least a little bit shorter than them. How wrong they were) their presence alone had him holding back from giggling like a highschool girl. But especially when they decided to lean on him and just stay there against him, tugging lightly on his lab coat. Usually like this:

(Guess who is next (totally absolutely never could ever be sanford oh I'd never specifically choose the people who i feel others dont obsess over enough oh never))

AAA Hofnarr content, I love to see it haha. :D He's so sweet, and it's honestly really funny to have an accurate visual showing how much bigger he would be than the Player (cause he seems so meek in the game). One of the more lowkey yanderes by far, if only because he tries so hard to hide it. Some of the Nexus personnel who sell merch of you might just think he's a loyal customer of theirs and buys all their stuff just to support their business (he was nice like that).

However, in reality, the scientist harbored a bit of a crush on you; a deep-seated admiration that stemmed from how much he liked your kindness and general goodwill. You were so genuinely nice, especially compared to everyone else in Nevada, and you helped them so much that it'd be impossible not to like you (in his opinion, anyway). He's quite the fanboy, hence all the merchandise; he just wants something that reminds him of you to be everywhere around him, from the keychain he keeps in his pocket to the prints he has framed and put up in his living space.

Is it an obsession? Perhaps somewhat, he'll admit that much. But as far as he knows, this is just what love for you is like. He's utterly infatuated with you, and he views his more...excessive behaviors with you to be normal since he can't recall loving anyone as much. It made complete sense that an elevated level of affection would lead to an elevation in the level of gestures he goes through just to experience/have something related to you.

He's a bit very jealous that Christoff gets to actually feel your control, but he can deal with that. You do have your reasons, and he's also helping his friend out as well, so if anything that'd make you both allies (it's a loose connection, but it makes him feel happy all the same). This only makes it better when you meet in person, and you subsequently give him a heart attack by getting in his personal space and leaning on him (muttering a small complaint about how tall he is in the process; cute).

Just experiencing your relaxing warmth up close, and feeling the weight of your complete attention on him was enough to make a giddy smile spread across his face, and he fights the urge to reach up to try and cover the bright blush that paints his features. Then you get closer, and he's trying not to let his crush on you be too apparent, because oh my god, you're right there. The person he's been fawning over for the past few months is touching him, showing him the same sweet affection he's dreamed about getting from you. (He almost squeaks when he feels your arms come up to wrap around him in a hug, which you find adorable.)

It's what he's been waiting for all this time, but now it brings to mind a more pertinent question: now that he knows you actually like him, what are the chances you could return all of these feelings he has? And how does he increase that probability?

#tw: yandere #10/10 art *chef's kiss* love it #hofnarr is honestly very underrated #other's art #ask #down-astronomical #fav

[grievedeeply]

Could you write some dating Andrew HCs from Little Hope?

god i was hoping someone would request this. i'm going to pretend like the end of the game was completely different than what it actually was, aka.. he's a real person, not just a figment of anthony's imagination. thanks for the request and i hope you enjoy!

gn!reader | tws: none!

NEW TAGLIST FORM!!!

dating andrew (little hope) headcanons

in the game, he mentions in a piece of dialogue with angela that he believes no girl would be interested in him, and he formally sticks to that idea. he doesn't think of himself as a good enough guy for anyone, and why would they like him, anyways? there are plenty of other people who are better than him

you first meet him through a college class, both wide eyed and anxious freshman who sat next to each other on the first day. no words are exchanged for the first few weeks, only friendly smiles and subtle glances at each other as though you were both anxious to start a conversation

you end up missing a day of class, and andrew is probably the only person you trust to have actually taken his notes. the next day, you'll ask him if you can copy them and he can hardly hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest

you're staring at him, waiting for a response, and all he does is nod. it takes him a few minutes, but he jots down his number on a post-it note and slides it over to you. you send him a text after class and he'll take pictures of every single page of notes for you

a sweet friendship blossoms after that, and andrew quickly develops a MASSIVE crush on you, one that he never intends to act on. he's afraid of losing you as a friend. he just wants you in his life

so.. you have to make the first move. it's definitely something casual, and when you ask he swears he's misheard you. a date? with him? he nods, and all you can do is grin

one date turns into a few, and you ask him to be your boyfriend. he still doesn't understand why or how you ended up liking him, but he doesn't want to dwell on it too much in fear that it would all be a dream... this poor boy

in a relationship, he is so attentive. not that he wasn't already, but he's practically at your beck and call. he just wants to support you in any way he can and acts of service is one of his love languages

he is SO big on hugs. he'll come up from behind you, his chest pressed up against your back.. it's so relaxing to feel you next to him. it really soothes his nerves

he really enjoys cuddling, too. he has trouble sleeping some nights and he especially loves it whenever you feel up to be the one holding him. your relationship is so loving and he is beyond grateful for you

honestly, he'll indulge in every love language. he loves spending time with you, even in silence. you could both be doing work for school in each others presence and it would be enough for him

definitely keeps track of things you say you like. every interest you mention, he'll remember somehow. you could mention liking something months ago and he'll show up with it on your birthday, and you wouldn't even remember bringing it up

words of affirmation???? he LOVES it. he loves showing his appreciation for you. you made dinner last night? he'll tell you he loved it. you breathe in his vicinity? he'll tell you he appreciates you. he needs you to know he cares for you

you're his first serious partner. the only person he's ever really.. loved. he's had crushes before, but they never went anywhere

he tells you he loves you for the first time completely randomly. you're probably just washing dishes or watching a movie with him and you laugh, and all he can think of his how much he loves you. his mouth moves faster than his brain, and he admits his love for you

much to his surprise, you don't break up with him on the spot. you tell him you love him too, and it's a huge weight lifted off of his shoulders, but your words open another door in your relationship

the future has always been a bit of a scary thing to think about for him, but he was alone up until he met you. he isn't really that afraid of it anymore. he knows he has you, and that's more than enough

speaking of him being inexperienced.. he has his first kiss with you

he swears he has no idea what he's doing, but the way his hands caress your cheeks and come to rest on your sides tell you otherwise. he's a very fast learner and comes to know what you enjoy with ease

very big fan of soft make out sessions after a long day. he just loooves kissing you and he cannot help it

you make him feel so safe and he hopes he makes you feel the same

he definitely pictures some type of future with you. a shared apartment, a dog/cat.. something. he yearns for it, almost

he can only hope you don't tire of him

but he has nothing to worry about. you never will

#little hope x reader #andrew little hope x reader #little hope andrew x reader #little hope #andrew little hope #little hope andrew #the dark pictures little hope #the dark pictures #the dark pictures x reader #the dark pictures little hope x reader

[archivewilliamrikerstblog]

"And You Love Every Second of It” - William Riker x Reader

Summary: The hour is later and Riker wants to cuddle, luckily for him that is not something his partner will complain about.

Word Count: 680+

Rating: SFW

Warning(s): You're in bed together. Riker is flirting. Clothes are on.

Author's Note: Maybe one day when I am less of a coward I will write an extension for this.

- - - - -

Climbing into bed and settling with your back supported by a pillow and the headboard; you reach for the PADD on your nightstand, hoping to get a couple chapters into your favorite book before having to retire for the night.

Swiftly becoming completely engrossed by the literature, you fail to hear the soft slide of the door. Very few had the ability to enter your quarters without command - and only one who would do so with the hour so late.

William Riker takes in the sight in front of him as he steps unimpeded into your quarters. Warmth floods his chest at the comfort this place - you - give him. The quarters are well-kept, not messy by any degree; yet they were clearly lived in, decorated and arranged to your liking. 

You had very clearly made a home out of the Enterprise; and Riker was thrilled to be a part of it. 

Riker does take notice that you don't seem aware of his presence, a notion that plants an idea in his head and with only a little more thought springs him into action. Trying his best to remain unnoticed, he makes his way across the small room to you.

"Will!" You exclaim, the small lilt of amusement in your surprised tone rewarded you with a deep chuckle as Riker plucks the PADD from your hands and tosses it onto the nightstand.

Riker dips down to press his lips against your forehead in a quick apology while you try to still your racing heart. It is now that you take the time to notice that Riker is out of uniform. Instead having chosen change into the blue silk sleep-ware that the both of you seemed to favor.

More than amused himself, Riker is quick to crawl into bed with you. His arms slip around your waist, tugging you down the bed slightly. Riker's weight is comfortable against you as he rests his head against your abdomen. A wide smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes as he innocently peeks up at you.

"So needy." You breath an exaggerated sigh as you feign annoyance, but the shake of your head and own soft smile betray you. Almost as if on impulse you reach out and start carding your fingers through his soft dark hair. 

"And you love every second of it." Riker counters after a moment or two, giving a gentle squeeze to your waist before releasing. Supporting his weight on his hands, Riker raising himself to hover over you, bringing himself closer to you.

"I must, otherwise I wouldn't have let you in here." Quickly catching on to this little game, you pull back just enough to fix Riker with a skeptical look.

Both of you can only contain your composure for so long before you break and the room erupts into shared laughter. Riker regains himself quicker, trailing off as he watches you with eyes full of warmth.

Slowly Riker leans closer, resting his forehead against yours as his eyes close and he breaths a sigh of pure contentment. You reach up to cradle his face, thumbs gently smoothing over the sides of his beard. Eventually, one of his hands comes to rest on your hip almost mirroring the movement of your thumb with his own.

You both stay like that for a few minutes more, simple basking in the presence of each other. Once more Riker pulls away and finally settles himself next to you in bed. Following his lead, you reach for the blanket that has pooled at the end of the bed.

You do your best to cover you both; Riker reaches out to distribute more of the blanket over you - knowing that if he gets cold that is simple a good excuse to hold you closer. Why else would he have opted to stay in your quarters when his own could have more comfortable housed two people? There are some perks to a smaller bed.

Comfortable nestled in with your head against the silk covering his chest, you throw an arm around his waist to hold him in return.

"Love you." You mumble, but the sincerity of your words are not lost. You can feel the rumble in Riker's chest as he give a small hum of acknowledgement. Resting his chin atop your head, you hear Riker breath out:

“Love you too.”

#william riker x reader #will riker x reader #riker x reader #star trek x reader

[sunsetcurve]

i still want to move mountains, i still want to change the world

wow, okay, it has been a very very very long time since i wrote anything here, but — i had to break off my writing hiatus, because it is @zackmartin ‘s birthday!!! nikki, i want you to know that even though i’ve been on and off a lot for a while, you’re still one of the brightest, bravest, and kindest people i know, and you’ve always been one of my biggest supporters. you show so much love to everyone around you, and you deserve all the love in the world in return! i am so so proud i get to know you and so happy to be able to call you my friend. i wanted to write a little one-shot for the amazing @zenryverse for you today, because i love and miss them all, and i’m a little rusty in writing anything beyond scripts but i really hope you like it! once again, happy birthday, and i hope today is spectacular and brings you so many good things. the title is from “when she grows up” by craig campbell. 

summary: He remembers being fifteen, is the thing. The restlessness of it, the dauntless way of looking at everything. None of Ray’s attempts to shut him down, tell him he was too young, not good enough, had ever worked — they’d only made him want it more. He can see it in her eyes; Izzy is itching for something to prove, and he knows where she got that from.

word count: 1,720

Henry had seen this coming, of course.

He’d thought — hoped, really, and in retrospect it just seems overly optimistic — that he could stave it off by a few more years, at least. Izzy is freshly fifteen, solidly in the middle of the teen-angst phase other parents had warned him about, but beyond a bit of door-slamming and incessant texting things have been good. Manageable. He and Zack aren’t perfect parents, by any means, but he thinks they’ve been handling it well.

He’s not sure handling it well extends to him standing outside his daughter’s bedroom window and waiting for her inevitable attempt to crawl out of it, though.

Izzy’s not the type of kid to sneak out much, or at least she hadn’t been before. But there’s been a sudden rash of crime downtown, and she’s been acting shifty this week, and Henry had spent dinner triaging the symptoms of a hero complex over spaghetti. He knows them well. He invented those symptoms. And now he’s passed them down to her, which is terrifying in a way that uncharted-parenting territory has rarely been before.

He doesn’t really have a benchmark for how to handle this. His own parents had been entirely uninvolved in his side job, and Ray was hardly a good role model. All Henry has is the person he was at fifteen, and he really, really does not want Izzy going down that road.

Which is why he’s loitering in the yard, in the dark, like some creepy stalker outside of his own home. It’s been about twenty minutes. He’s distracting himself with one of the phone games that Felix had gotten him hooked on and starting to think that maybe he overreacted when somewhere above him, a lock clicks. The window scrapes open.

Henry watches appraisingly from the ground as Izzy maneuvers herself through the window. She’s dressed in all black — where did she get leather pants? — and there’s a pink-and-black mask covering her eyes. It’s not a bad costume. She’s climbing nimbly into the tree that hangs beside her bedroom, and trying to shimmy her way down. One of the branches under her foot creaks alarmingly, and he hears her swallow a yelp.

“That one won’t hold your weight — try the one to the left!” Henry calls from the ground.

Izzy shifts her foot and breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Thanks, Papa—”

Then, she nearly falls out of the tree. “Papa?”

Henry’s heart skips a beat, but Izzy doesn’t slip despite her falter. She does, however, cast a panicked glance at him over her shoulder, still clinging to the branches. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Henry replies flatly. “Can you get down so we can talk?”

Izzy bites out something that sounds like a swear under her breath, but Henry chooses not to comment. He waits until both her feet are planted firmly on the ground to say anything at all, actually. It doesn’t take long — Izzy’s always been a climber — but once she meets the ground she turns to look at him with so much self-righteousness in her expression it makes him stumble over the speech he had planned out in his head.

“How’d you know?” she demands, glaring at him through a mask that, now that it’s up close, looks familiar.

“Is that my old mask?” he asks by way of an answer. He can see her flush a little even in the low light. “Did you spray paint it?”

Izzy shrugs, crossing her arms. “It’s just one of them. You weren’t using it.” Henry raises an eyebrow, amused, and she scrunches her nose at him. “Aren’t you going to ask where I’m going?”

“Oh, I know where you were going,” Henry says, trying to sound casual about it, like the whole situation hasn’t got his stomach doing backflips. What if he hadn’t been here, if she’d done this yesterday, if he’d missed her by a minute? He’s doing everything he can not to think about it. “Iz—”

“I know what you’re gonna say, okay? I’m too young, I’m not ready yet, it’s dangerous.” She tilts her chin up at him, fifteen-years-old and already so full of that indomitable defiance. “You’ve said it all before. But you were younger than me when you first started, and you didn’t even have powers! I do. I can use them.”

He wants to say, you’re just a kid. He wants to say, you don’t get it, yet, what you’re signing up for. It’s not that simple. It’s not so easy.

But he remembers being fifteen, is the thing. The restlessness of it, the dauntless way of looking at everything. None of Ray’s attempts to shut him down, tell him he was too young, not good enough, had ever worked — they’d only made him want it more. He can see it in her eyes; Izzy is itching for something to prove, and he knows where she got that from.

“C’mere,” he says, and jerks his head for her to follow as he rounds the corner of the house towards the front door. Izzy looks at him questioningly but obliges, and then they’re sitting on the porch steps, the driveway sprawling out in front of them and the streetlights glowing in pinpricks of gold down the road.

“I started fighting crime when I was thirteen,” Henry starts, and then has to tamp down a laugh when Izzy makes a face like she’s bracing herself for another dad-lecture. “Listen, just listen for a sec. Look…being Kid Danger meant the world to me. I loved my job. I helped a lot of people. But I made a lot of sacrifices for it. I didn’t go to prom, or graduate high school, or go to college — I didn’t have a normal childhood, and, look, I wouldn’t have traded it, but it wasn’t easy. Back then it seemed like nothing was more important than being a superhero.” Izzy’s looking at him with huge brown eyes, and Henry smiles a little. “And then I met your dad, and everything changed.”

“Gross, Papa,” she says, but it’s half-hearted, and Henry laughs.

“What I’m trying to say,” he continues, “is that…I know how you feel. I get it, okay? Right now, it feels like the only thing that matters is…is putting on a mask, and using your powers, and saving the world. I just want you to know that you have time for that.” He tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “The world isn’t going to end tomorrow. Your life is gonna be a lot bigger than that suit.”

Izzy’s mouth twists, and when she ducks her head he’s afraid, for a moment, that he’s said the wrong thing. Then she sort of leans into where his hand is resting on her cheek, and the tight thing in his chest loosens. “I know it’s not gonna be easy,” she says finally. “I’m not doing it for…for the laughs, or the excitement, okay? I’m doing it ‘cause I wanna help people.” Her voice goes small, then: “I wanna be like you.”

Henry wishes she were still young enough to wrap in blankets and pull into his lap and shelter from everything else, because he wants to keep the world away from his daughter. Instead he tucks an arm around her, and puts his chin against her hair, and tries to just breathe. His kid is here, right now, and that’s what matters.

“How long can I stop you for?” he sighs after a while, and he can feel her smile.

“That depends. How many nights are you planning to spend camped outside my window?”

Henry laughs, and then he pulls back to look her in the eyes. She’s staring right back at him, determined, fifteen-years-old and so much of him and Zack and herself. She’s growing up. He takes a steady breath. Then: “I want to do this right, okay?”

“Okay,” she nods, and tilts her head at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means none of the sneaking out at night,” Henry begins, ticking things off on his fingers. “Absolutely no running headlong into danger, especially alone, ever. School comes first, and I want you to stick with your friends, and your clubs, and your normal teenage experiences. No fighting crime until I say you’re ready—”

“But—”

“Iz,” he says seriously, with both hands on her shoulders, “I’m gonna train you. I’m gonna show you the ropes, and when you’re older, and you’re ready, I’ll let you come on some missions with me.” He watches her eyes light up, and smiles at her. “But if we’re gonna do this, we need to trust each other, alright? No lying. No secrets. I mean it. If you really want to do this, we do it together.”

He gives it a moment to sink in, the gravity of it. If they go through with this, things are going to be different, almost surely for good. He watches that understanding settle behind Izzy’s eyes. Slowly, she nods back at him. “Okay, Papa.”

He sticks a pinky out towards her and smiles. “Swear?”

She rolls her eyes, but loops her finger through his. “Swear.”

“Good.” He ruffles her hair, grinning, and she squawks out a protest but laughs anyway. “Now get to bed, okay? You’ve got school tomorrow.”

“What? I thought we were gonna train—”

“Yeah, on a Tuesday night? No way. We’ll start this weekend.”

“But Papa,” she starts to protest, and he stands up and cuts her off with a grin.

“Hey, if you focus on school this week and do well in training, I’ll talk to Aunt Char about making you a brand-new suit.”

She leaps to her feet, beaming, all protests dying immediately. “Are you serious?”

“If!”

Izzy stands on her toes to kiss his cheek and then scrambles for the door. “Gotta go, I’ve got school bright and early tomorrow!” she grins, throwing the door open, and he laughs.

“Good night to you too. Oh, and Iz?”

She stops for a moment in the doorway, silhouetted by the warm light from the house. Young and brave and so full of life. He loves her more every single day.

“You’re not gonna be like me,” he tells her, and smiles. “You’re gonna be a whole lot better.”

#i hope you like this ashgdjksf #nikki i love you so much! #dangerverse #henry hart #zack martin #izzy hartin #one shot #writing #my writing #//umanawrites #usernicolette #zenryverse

[problemswithbooks]

Something I’ve seen pretty regularly after ch. 351 is that Shoto still doesn’t fully try to understand Touya because he told him not to hurt people who weren’t involved in their family. That Shoto doesn't understand how Society is partially to blame for their situation. Pretty much the idea is that the story will end with Shoto realizing how the system is bad and contributed to their abuse. 

But, I’m not totally convinced if Hori will go that far. It might just be his odd writing choices but from how things have gone so far, I really don’t read Shoto’s reaction as him failing to understand his big brother. 

Because here’s the thing; this all is based on the preconceived notion that Touya actually, legitimately cares or understands how the system lead to his abuse, which I don’t quite believe. Sure, in his broadcast he badmouthed Heroes, and told people to think for themselves, but he in no way called out the system and populace for his abuse or really explained how it could lead to more people like him. In the end he just said the Heroes were terrible people and shouldn’t be called Heroes, nothing about how the system and society propped them up. There’s not anything in it about how the Ranking System driving Endeavor nuts, or how people enjoying it and cheering for it only made it worse. 

Touya talks a good game, but the end of his broadcast--after he mentions Hawks seems tacked on, like he added it last minute because he saw an opportunity. He even admits this was the case in some way; in the very least the Twice stuff was added on the fly. 

This only seems like a more correct interpretation since after that broadcast Dabi hasn’t said anything about other Heroes being shitty, not even to Enji’s sidekicks that were supporting his father. If Touya truly blamed Society you'd think he’d be equally angry at the sidekicks, or in the very least call them out for following his abuser. But he doesn’t care about them--he’s only focused on Enji and Shoto. 

The only other thing people bring up is how after the broadcast how the civilians called him annoying while Enji was left as the #1 Hero. That this is the story making commentary on how Society doesn't listen to victims, how Touya was even disappointed.  

Now, to me I don’t think these things are given enough weight in the story to use as evidence that this is a major theme of bnha (or at least not in the Touya plotline). It’s one panel and one minor insult (especially given what Touya had done) by some nobody characters. It’s not framed in a particularly interesting way that would make it memorable and show it was important.  

As for Enji staying on as #1--that more then makes sense. If the abuse had come out before the war, Enji keeping his job would better establish that he was getting unfair treatment. That his celebrity was effecting the public’s willingness to hold him accountable. As it stands, Japan is on the brink of collapse and Heroes are quitting on mass. Firing Enji (because under Japanese law that’s about all they could do) is just throwing away a limited resource they desperately need. 

And it’s not like Enji faces zero backlash. Even when he’s out catching villains he’s constantly harassed and told off. It’s not as if the public is blindly supporting him. They hate him and they make that more then clear. Sure, they don't seem to be angry over his abuse, but the mass destruction and the bodies on the ground caused by his son are far more pressing to them.  

Nor does Dabi seem upset that no one’s talking about his abuse. He smiles and says he didn't go far enough after the press conference, but given he wants to leave Enji a mental husk of a person, seeing his dad do anything but cry in a corner would probably get the same reaction. He’s not mad Enji still had his job--he’s mad his dad can still preform the job. Enji’s not mentally and emotionally broken, so he obviously hasn’t done enough to hurt him yet. 

To me it just doesn't feel like Shoto is misunderstanding his brother because Touya is actually some dep thinker who knows that domestic violence is perpetuated by corrupt systems and the people who are content to live under those systems. I don't think Touya even understands the role the stupid Ranking System played in Enji’s obsession, let alone how that was created by the government to help Heroes be marketable and trustworthy to the people they served. Touya doesn't have time to think that much--just like Enji he’s to obsessed with his goal that everything else is just a means to an end. If bad mouthing the Heroes hurts Enji he’ll do it, if it doesn’t, he won’t bother. 

#bnha spoilers #bnha critical #todoroki enji #endeavor #I guess I don't see how Shoto is misunderstanding Touya because he tells him not to kill random people #like i mean sure you could argue that under a corrupt system anyone whose not actively fighting for something better #is upholding the system and there for play a part #but if we go off the theory Dabi's kills were only other villains #then he ended up killing some of the few people who legitimately were transgressing against the system #and its not like he cared if they had been past abuse victims #what mean to say is that Dabi doesn't give a crap about some bigger picture #and so Shoto can't be more understanding because he's totally right about Touya #there isn't some deeper stuff Touya knows that Shoto doesn't #Touya is a very spiteful Himbo

[iwokeuplikethisxx]

Getting a grip

a guide to being how you normally are by nature when you’re taken out of your element

to avoid becoming a basic bitch who crumbles under the slightest amount of pressure, you have to know what it takes to maintain yourself. when you choose to perform at a high level and show up every day with absolutely no sign or sensation of tiring out, you have to look after yourself so you don’t burn out. you know this, and you are an extraordinary young woman. here’s your own advice, incase you forget.

there are multiple pillars to slaying at your full potential. you can’t neglect one for the other. if you’re serious about being your best you will learn to balance them all. they are:

nutrition

rest

mindfulness

sprezzatura

fun

fitness

spirituality

confidence

effectively, these all work together to aid one another, like a cycle. i’ll explain each one.

nutrition

the shit you put into your body is important. you will feel and see a difference when you eat the clean, healthy food. it affects everything. not eating or being hungry will throw you off your game entirely. it forces you into survival mode and that’s not something you’re used to anyway. it’s not optimal. eat your five a day, fuel your body, and eat regular meals. don’t skip.

rest

listen to your body. your body will force you to rest if you don’t make time for it yourself. not sleeping enough fucks with your hormones. you need to give your mind a break (even when you’re awake) from time to time. sleep in at least once a week. rest also affects everything else, like gut health does. there’s a vibe that comes from being well rested, and you can tell.

mindfulness

meditate, journal, scream. listen to yourself and express yourself, always. make time for mindfulness. you can’t let life pass you by without you acknowledging it and what it means to you. in life, you are your own best friend.

sprezzatura

the art of effortless cool. nonchalance. it’s a quiet, self assured charisma that is the ultimate display to yourself and to the world that you have an unshakeable self esteem and a quality about you that you just have to be born with. a je ne sais quoi. once you know you have it, it’s hard to ever walk like you don’t own the place again. something about never seeming like you’re trying makes everything you do hold more weight.

fun

every day, you have to have fun. you have to laugh, you have to have a dance party, you have to do something that’s fun. you have to make time for fun and sometimes there’s fun in breaking some rules and being a bit impulsive. I never understood the phrase ‘rules were meant to be broken’ until I made my own rules. Not like I was listening to anyone else’s anyway. It builds character- and anything that builds, or in your case, intensifies character is good. fun is what you want it to be right in that moment.

fitness

your usual stress free attitude is supported by the endorphins, dopamine, and serotonin. who gives a fuck about anything when they’re absolutely fucking shredded? sorry, I can’t talk right now, I have to go show off my minuscule waist to the world while running a mile in 2 minutes because i do pilates and it made me an optimal human being.

spirituality

this is so second nature that i can’t believe i have to write this but just incase!!! get in touch with the universe. practice gratitude. increase your vibrations. cleanse your energy routinely. pray.

confidence

see also: self esteem. self esteem is everything. everything. whatever you do, do it with full self acceptance and wear it well. do whatever you do with your chest. and if you’re really unconfident about something, change it.

remember, work now, slay later. or just slay while working. there’s no rule against that.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

You and me made 3. Prt 19

*** You and me made 3. Prt 19

Premise: Lance accidentally winds up pregnant and begins to reevaluate his relationship with his long term boyfriend

Scene: Lance works splitting his time between teaching on Altea and back on Earth his family. Keith works on both diplomatic and sneaky sneaky missions for Diabazaal and the Blades of Mamora. Things used to be good, but Keith’s been pulling away for months and Lance does the dumb panic. Set 5 years after season ewght. Supportive Shiro because I’ve been writing too much negative Shiro… and Curtis is a big arse nerd boy. Soooo much dialogue. Thank you to the Love/Sex Pistols manga. Showing my age with that one.

*

*

Laying on the examination bed, Lance had a firm hold on Keith’s hand. Coran had taken them to a private office, towards the back of the hospital. Lance just wanted the main show to happen already. Staring at the ceiling, Coran had left them after taking a few blood samples. Lance didn’t know why he needed to, but Keith had been kind of adorable and whined softy as he’d been the one in pain as they’d been taken.

Forced to wait in silence, Lance didn’t know what to say to Keith. He feared he’d say all the wrong things, when all he wanted to do was thank him for being there and not letting him delay everything. There’d been plenty of times in his life when he’d been this nervous, but this felt entirely different, as if bad news could really destroy everything between him and Keith. He almost sighed in relief as he heard the whoosh of the door sliding open, Coran’s voice louder than necessary, but Lance figured it was nerves

“Sorry, my boys! They’ll have the results for us shortly. Now, let’s take a look at that stomach of yours. Is there anywhere in particular you feel I should be looking?”

“Below my belly button… um, it feels solid…”

Walking over to grab out a pair of gloves from one of the numerous white drawers, Coran nodded as he then pulled them on

“Shirt up for me. No need to be shy, I’m sure Keith’s seen it all”

Keith “seeing it all” was exactly what had landed them in this mess. Forcing himself to let go of Keith’s hand, Lance’s hands shook as he pulled his shirt up. He didn’t like how bright the room was, nor that Keith could now see his stomach clearly. Even from his position he could definitely see his stomach area was raised

“Right, I’m going to have a little feel, let me know if there’s any pain”

Carefully watching Lance’s face, they played the game of “how about here?” and “nope, no pain”. Lance biting his lip hard enough that it caught Keith’s attention, his boyfriend poking his cheek to draw Lance to what he was doing unintentionally. Frowning never felt a good sign, despite Lance knowing it was because Coran didn’t know what they did

“I can definitely see some distension in your stomach and feel a somewhat firmness below the navel area above your pubic hair line. You’ve obviously lost weight also”

“I try to eat, but sometimes it comes right back up”

“Right, well, no pain is a good thing. I’m going to go ahead with the scan now”

Lance could only nod, Coran stripping off his gloves and taking up the data pad from the desk he’d dumped his gloves on. Keith’s hand finding Lance’s as his boyfriend buried his face against Lance’s hair

“Whatever it says, I’m okay as long as you are”

Lance doubted it. He’d kind of maybe grown attached to the idea of their family once Keith had said it was okay too. If he wasn’t, then he knew Keith would be devastated. Turning the pad on and activating both scanner above him and the results screen, the same images that had come up when Lance had done his own screening appeared. It was easier to stare at them rather than looking at Coran’s face.

“Elevated heart rate… which is a given seeing you’ve been worried…”

Coran tapped the data pad screen, purple lines appearing across Lance’s body on the scan

“Hmm… traces of foreign DNA… and what’s that?”

Altean tech was whack. Lance didn’t need to see inside himself, yet that’s exactly what Coran was showing them. Well, not exactly, it wasn’t like he’d pealed away Lance’s skin, but he was able to pull up those two dots and the general outline of Lance’s internal organs

“Well… that’s unexpected…”

Coran was killing him. Lance’s heart had gone from racing to pounding, grateful Keith had no patience for the vagueness of their weird space uncle’s observations

“What? What is it?”

Coran hummed as he zoomed in further, Keith letting out a groan at the lack of a clear answer

“Ahhhh… I see… How amazing…”

“Coran, spit it out already”

“Yes, well, hmm. The scan would seem to indicate you’re going to be parents. Tell me, this isn’t common for a male of your species, is it?”

Lance nearly threw up at the confirmation, squeezing Keith’s hand tightly enough for his boyfriend to growl, before squeezing back just as hard. They might be adults, but neither of them wanted to do the adult thing and reply. Coran continued

“No, no. I’ve seen your scans before. Tell me, Lance, and I need you to think very carefully, have you come into contact with any strange flowers in the last five or so phoebs?”

Lance blinked, having absolutely no idea what the fuck flowers had to do with anything… flowers… he loved flowers. New Altea always had something in bloom…

“I bought him flowers from Diabazaal”

Keith’s low voice made Lance jump. Keith had too. It’d been the time before Keith’s last stay where he’d spent most of his time on his comms, they’d fucked, and then Keith had to go be all “princely”. Lance playing it carefully

“Keith’s right… he did. But… Coran, you said we’re going to be parents… I’m… I’m really confused right now and kind of really freaking out. I don’t have the parts for baby making”

Coran’s next words had Lance’s stomach dropping

“I always knew you were special. Even with Allura gone, I always felt as if you carried a piece of her inside of you since she gave her life. Like you carry part of her soul… her very essence. You see, there’s a very rare worm that grows in soils… you can see you lack ovaries around what is now your womb. They’re drawn to those with high quintessence levels, yours have always been high but perhaps the boost from Allura… She would be so proud…”

Lance wanted out. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get why Coran was talking about some worm and why Allura had to be part of this. Realising he was beginning to panic, Keith took half a step forward as if trying to protect him from Coran, while Lance pushed himself back against the bed trying to escape when he couldn’t

“Coran, Lance is Lance. He’s not Allura. Tell me what’s going on with my boyfriend!”

“It’s a womb worm. These little blighters show up from time to time. I’m assuming one must have hitched a ride from Diabazaal on those flowers. It really could have infected either of you, but it’s entirely possible it was drawn to Lance due to him being the one spending more time with the flower in question”

So it could have been either of them? It could have been Keith pregnant. There was no Altean magic… just dumb luck. Manipulating the data pad, Coran pulled up an image of a small red worm with black stripes, the little dude was kind of cute

“As you can see they may not look like much, but it does have the unique ability to set its self up in a hosts body. The body develops a womb, which drains the worm of their life and makes an ovum in the process. Funnily enough, only males are capable of this as females ensure the continuation of the species. It most likely found the bowel a suitable habitat and most accessible to semen”

“So Keith gives me funky flowers and now I’m carrying his babies?!”

Lance’s voice bordered on hysterical. He’d been infected by a space worm. Out of every single damn thing he’d wracked his brain about trying to work things out, it was a space worm?!

“Don’t make it sound like I did it on purpose”

The huff in Keith’s tone rubbed Lance all sorts of the wrong way

“I’m not fucking saying that!”

“And I’m not saying I did it on purpose!”

“And I didn’t say you did!”

“You blamed the flowers!”

“You gave me the flowers!”

“Because I thought you’d love them!”

“I might not have if I knew they were going to get me pregnant!”

“I’m sorry I knocked you up!”

Coran clapped his hands, ending their bickering as they both glared in his direction. Coran clearing his throat and turning the screen back to Lance’s wormy womb

“Now, you’ve both had a shock. I’m sure neither of you planned this, but let’s make the most of this. Now we have a confirmed diagnosis, let’s take a look at your babies. Oh, I wish Allura could see this. She’d be absolutely delighted. Oh, my. You seem to be about 4 and a half phoebs along already!”

“That doesn’t work, Keith didn’t fuck me then”

Coran frowned with a hum, Keith very pointedly looking at the screen. This wasn’t how Lance had thought this might go. They weren’t supposed to be fighting. Feeling himself starting to cry, Lance didn’t want any of these feelings

“You’re definitely a little while along. Perhaps 15 or so of your Earth weeks”

Now way was he 15… he would have literally died without Keith around for 13 weeks

“I’m no more than 11… roughly”

“Well the worm does work differently. Human pregnancies are 40 of your human weeks? Perhaps… your species doesn’t suffer accelerated pregnancies, do they?”

“No… what do you mean accelerated?!”

Coran hummed, Lance wanting to take the pillow from behind his head and smother him

“Just an idea… two is also highly unusual. Yet there seems to be steady heartbeats from both. We can also accurately sex them if you would like”

“No. Nope. No. You tell me they’re okay, and that’s what I need to know”

“You don’t seem as shocked as I would expect, now that I think about it”

Keith just had to dob him in

“Actually, we already kind of knew. The scanner said as much”

“Oi. How do you think I felt peeing on a stick then seeing the first scan?”

Before they could bicker again, Coran made Lance feel infinitely worse

“You suspected? My boy, why not tell me? I thought you knew you could always be honest with me”

Lance broke, pulling his knees up, he couldn’t stop his word vomit

“I peed on a stick and it told me I was pregnant! I’m sorry I freaked out, but I was a perfectly normal guy. No womb. No baby making capabilities outside of sperm. It was me, Keith, Kosmo. That was our family. And all of a sudden this happens and I don’t know if I’m insane or because Allura changed my body and I felt enough of a freak. It’s not about not trusting you, it’s about me being absolutely terrified. Me and Keith had been shaky, I didn’t even know if he wanted to break up and just didn’t have the heart to tell me because he’s so good to me. I didn’t think he’d want me even more messed up. This wasn’t supposed to happen and I couldn’t make a choice without him if it was true but how was I supposed to know it was some weird space worm?! I was happy with what I had and everything went and changed! I do trust you!”

As Lance started openly sobbing, Keith put aside his anger. His boyfriend sitting on the bed and gathering him up against him

“Babe, I’m not mad. Coran isn’t mad. He just didn’t understand. I know this is a lot, but now we know why it happened. I’m still crazy about you, weird space worm womb and all”

“I… I just want you to be happy!”

Keith snorted at his yell, his boyfriend rubbing his back as he rocked him. Lance didn’t even know when he’d let go of Keith’s hand again, only that he was clutching him by the zipper of his open jacket

“I’m happy. I’m so beyond relieved you’re okay. They seem to be okay too”

“But they’re too big! The timing doesn’t line up!”

“Space is really quiznakking weird. You’re okay, babe. You’re okay. Come on, deep breaths”

Lance hiccuped down a few breaths before finally catching his breath

“I’m sorry, I’m just… so confused and relieved”

“Me too. Coran, both twins are okay, right?”

“Fit as little fiddles! I guess you’ll be making an announcement soooooon?”

Lance sniffled with a shake of his head

“Not yet… please don’t tell anyone. Shiro and Curtis know but for now… I want to explain it to everyone properly but not until our mother’s know. God, the morning sickness has been awful. And poor Keith’s been putting up with all my moods. There’s… there’s no he’s infected is he?”

“I doubt that’s the case, but if you’re worried I can do a scan. I’m guessing he’d also be pregnant and displaying symptoms but these little worms are rare. Males tend to fight it out and only the strongest survive”

“Can you please… can you please check?”

“Not to worry, the scanner is above both of you”

Coran’s “not to worry” didn’t make Lance worry any less as Keith was scanned. The few ticks it took felt like years

“No signs of abnormal DNA and no signs of a worm womb”

Lance could have kissed God at the news. Keith seemed pretty relieved by the way he slumped against him, before sitting back upright

“Wait. If this gave him a womb, how are we meant to get the babies out?”

Keith had a valid point. There were only a few things Lance allowed near his arse, his vibrator, his boyfriend, and a toilet seat… outside of clothing

“Not to worry. The mucus membranes of the womb soften and adapt the tissue to something more accommodating for birth. There is of course the surgical option of removal”

Lance grimaced at Coran’s wording

“It’s called a c-section. Nothing is coming out of there that big”

Skipping his mumbling, Keith seemed to have far more questions than Lance could brain

“What about sex? I mean, I can’t get him pregnant again… but I’m not going to get infected, right?”

“Provided Lance is feeling up to it, sexual intercourse is perfect fine and natural with no chance of reimpregnation, or transfer of worm material. It’s only by a sheer miracle that you purchased flowers with a worm. To think one of our teachers will soon to be bringing life into the world… and to think my little Paladin’s…”

Coran broke off sniffling. Lance half wanted to lie back and enjoy the moment now, but he’d also been hurt by Coran’s words about Allura

“I’m kind of feeling sick. Is it possible to get a copy of the scan video? I think I want to go back to the apartment and lie down”

“Sorry, my boys! I wasn’t recording. Shall I record now?”

The moment had passed. The twins first “official” scan and Coran hadn’t filmed it… Lance got that Coran had no clue that they’d known or what he’d find, yet he’d assumed it was all recorded

“No, it’s okay. But can Keith and I go now? I know I said we’d catch up, but… yeah”

“Of course, of course. I’ll let you know if the blood work shows anything we need to be worried about. It’ll be an honour to provide care for you during your pregnancy. Allura really would be so proud. I’m so proud of you both. You know, Coran is a highly respectable name. And don’t you worry about work…”

Coran had given him the opportunity before he’d had to ask about it, and even if he hadn’t talked it out with Keith, Lance kind of wanted to just go ahead and say it, so he did

“For now, I’d like to take about a few movements off further. Keith and I will be staying here for a bit, but when he goes back to Diabazaal I’ll be going with him. That way we can tell Krolia in person together. I’m really… I’m really grateful for the job here. I never knew I could love teaching and I love the kids. If it weren’t term holidays I would have been even more of a wreck when I left. I don’t want to just quit teaching, but I need time to plan things out with Keith, especially if we’re going to be parents. I’d already decided this provided everything was okay. I think maybe I’d like to do some video classes from Diabazaal too. While the past is important and we shouldn’t forget, we kind of owe it to the kids to show them that there’s still hope for a peaceful future”

Coran sighed softly

“I’m not going to say I’m not going to be sad to see you leave, because you’ll be back. It really won’t be the same without you here, boy. But I completely understand. I think the classes would be a fine idea. Perhaps we could even host a field trip to Diabazaal?”

“That’d be awesome. Keith and I will be able to let you know once we’re there and settled. Thank you for the scan… and for finally being the one to be able to tell us what happened and how. For now I just need to be with him”

“Keith is always welcome on New Altea. You’ve been carrying a lot of stress, go back to the apartment and rest. Keith, I expect you take very good care of our Lance”

Keith snorted out a laugh

“You don’t need to tell me twice. Thanks, Coran. We’ll be at the apartment if you need us”

“Once again, I’m very happy for you both. Perhaps Allura might also be a good name to consider, or Alfor?”

There it was again… Lance feeling angry all over again, yet forced himself not to show it

“Yeah, maybe. Keith and I have a lot to talk about and won’t be making an decision about names for a bit”

“Ah well, as long as you think of us. Now of you two pop, you’ll need to make the most of this free time before your hands full all the time”

Thanking Coran again, Lance leaned into Keith as they left. A womb worm of all things… he wasn’t sure he could really believe it’d happened to him, yet it was apparently so. Holding his boyfriends hand, he was sure Keith was freaking out as much as he was, only doing a better job hiding it. He’d had nothing but Keith’s love and support all morning, yet as soon as they got back, he wasn’t sure Keith wasn’t going to get caught up in his mood. He had some very choice things to say, and his boyfriend was absolutely the only person he could say them to.

#you and me made three #you and me made 3

[masteraqua]

kh2 just does........the worst job of conveying org. xiii as morally gray antagonists

#it's kinda sad too bc nomura was obviously very interested in that idea at one point #but the writing in this game just. does not hold enough weight to support such a complex idea #i don't even think i realized that's what the devs were going for until one of my later playthroughs #they're just the most basic garden variety of shadowy schemers #it'd be like trying to paint cobra from G. I. Joe as sympathetic villains #caitlin's cousin plays kh2 #edit: i think back cover actually does a good job portraying a group of people with complex & morally ambiguous motivations #so at least nomura got another try!

[lemondropdancer]

Grounding Techniques

Mental Distraction Techniques

Pick a category of objects and try to think of as many objects as possible that fit within that category (e.g., types of dogs, cities, types of trees, crayon colors, sports)

Pick a letter and think of emotionally positive or neutral words that begin with that letter

Pick a color and look for things of that color. Notice differences in their exact shades

Say or think the alphabet backwards or alternate letters and numbers (A1, B2, C3, D4, etc)

Count backwards from 100 by 3s, 6s, or 7s or count up by prime numbers or perfect squares

Play "fizz-buzz" with yourself. Begin counting to 100 (or over!), but replace any number that contains the number 5 or is a multiple of 5 with the word "fizz" and any number that contains the number 7 or is a multiple of 7 with the word "buzz." For example, 1-15 would be "1, 2, 3, 4, fizz, 6, buzz, 8, 9, fizz, 11, 12, 13, buzz, fizz." When you mess up, compliment yourself and start over

Think of the words to your favorite song or poem or think of facts related to a specific theme

Pick a word or your name and see how many other words you can make from the letters in it

Describe an every day event or process in great detail, listing all of the steps in order and as thoroughly as possible (e.g., how to cook a meal, how to get from your house to your place of work or school, how to do your favorite dance)

Read something technical or meant for children or read words backwards to focus on the process of reading and not the words

Watch a children's television show or movie or watch cute or funny videos on Youtube; it might help to have a playlist already prepared for this

Look at a current news article that is not likely to be upsetting or distressing

Distract yourself with Tetris, Solitaire, Sudoku, word searches, or other puzzle games

Reorientation Techniques

Say or think to yourself: "My name is _________. I am safe right now. I am _____ years old. I am currently at _____________. The date is _____________. If I need help, I am with ________/can call _________. Everything is going to be alright."

List reaffirming statements ("I am fine. Everything is going to be okay. I am strong. I can handle this.")

Ask yourself where you are, what day of the week it is, what day of the month it is, what month it is, what year it is, what season it is, how old you are, and other present-focused questions

Notice things in your surroundings that indicate to you that you're safe or that you're in the present (e.g., locks on your door, electronics that didn't exist when you were younger, the presence of trusted people, a phone so that you can call for help if you need it)

Describe your surroundings in detail, including sights (objects, textures, shapes, colors), sounds, smells, and temperature

Name five things that you see, four that you feel, three that you hear, and two that you smell or taste, and then name one good thing that you like about yourself

Pick four or five brightly colored objects that are easily visible and move your focus between them. Be sure to vary the order of your gaze and concentrate briefly on each one before moving to the next

Think about a fun time that you recently had with a friend or call that friend and ask them to talk about it with you

Sensory-Based Grounding Techniques

Run cool or warm (but not too cold or hot) water over your hands or take a cool or warm bath or shower

Spritz your face (with eyes closed), neck, arms, and hands with a fine water mist

Spray yourself with your favorite perfume and focus on the scent

Feel the weight of your body in your chair or on the floor and the weight of your clothing on your skin

Touch and hold objects around you. Compare the feel, weight, temperature, textures, colors, and materials

Keep a small object with you to touch or play with when you get triggered. Good examples include a smooth stone, a fidget toy, jewelry, or a tiny plushy

Bite into a lemon, orange, or lime, suck on a sour or minty candy or an ice cube, chew cinnamon-flavored gum, or put a few drops of Tabasco sauce on your tongue. Notice the flavor, scent, and texture

Eat something or drink warm tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, and describe to yourself the taste and texture in great detail

Place a cool wash cloth on your face or hold something cold like a can of soda

Listen to soothing or familiar music. If possible, dance to it

Hum, sing, recite poetry, or make up a silly poem or story as you go

Pick up a book and read the first paragraph out loud

Hug another person (if interpersonal touch isn't a trigger). Pay attention to your own pressure and the physical sensations of doing so

Hug a tree! Register the smells of being outside, the wind, and the sights around you

Movement-Based Grounding Techniques

Breathe deeply and slowly and count your breaths

Grab tightly onto your chair or press your feet against the ground as firmly as you can

Rub your palms and clap your hands or wiggle your toes within your socks. Pay attention to the physical sensation of doing so

Stretch out your arms or legs, roll your head on your neck, or clench and unclench your fists

Stomp your feet, walk around, run, jump, ride a bike, do jumping jacks, or do yoga

While walking, notice each footstep and say to yourself "right" and "left" to correspond with the foot currently moving

Squeeze a pillow, stuffed animal, or ball

If you have a soft pet (dog or cat), brush its fur and stroke it. If you don't, brush your own hair slowly and without pulling too much

Color in an adult coloring book, finger paint, or draw anything that comes to mind without worrying about quality

Write whatever comes to mind even if it's nonsense. Try not to write about whatever is upsetting you until you're more capable of doing so without increasing the upset

Write a list of things that make you happy or look for cheerful pictures to make into a collage

Pop bubble wrap or blow and pop actual bubbles

Dig in the dirt or garden, jump on a pile of leaves, or splash around in puddles or mud

Rip up paper or stomp on aluminum cans to crush them

Imagery Techniques

Picture yourself breathing in relaxation, calm, positive feelings, or strength. Picture yourself breathing out whatever is upsetting you. It may help to pair this with imagery of breathing in soothing colors (usually blue, purple, or green) and out more intense colors (usually red or black)

If you need to relax, envision a soothing white or golden light slowly moving up your body, warming and relaxing every part of you that it touches. You can also think of it as protecting you from negativity or from harm

If the problem is intense or uncomfortable emotions, physical sensations, or memories, picture them being surrounded and neutralized by a bright and healing light, temporarily placed in a mental box to be stored for later, or dialed back by an internal controller of intensity

If you have a clear mental picture of what's upsetting you, mentally change it to something silly or harmless. If you're a fan of Harry Potter, cast a mental "riddikulus" to banish the negativity

Picture yourself calm, focused, and able to tackle whatever problems you're facing. Focus on how that would feel in the moment. What would your expression and posture be like? Make whatever changes you need to in order to make your reality reflect your goal

How to Make a Grounding Box

Get a box or basket

Personalize and decorate it with construction paper, wrapping paper, ribbon, stickers, drawings, paint, photographs, glitter, sequins, or anything else that you like

Keep within it:

A list of grounding techniques that you know work for you

A list of positive affirmations and happy memories

A list of the contact information of trusted friends or family who are willing to help and support you

Small sensory objects such as: scented candles, perfumes, or lotions; hard candies or gum; soft fabrics, a stress ball, a stuffed animal, or a fidget toy; happy pictures of you with friends; a CD with relaxing music or meditation tracks. Try to cover all of the senses

A list of possible distractions such as books to read or movies to watch

Small portable distractions such as a pack of playing cards, a small game, or a joke book

A list of comforting things to do such as taking a bubble bath, snuggling up in bed, or meditating

A small journal or notebook

In the Case of a Flashback

Tell yourself that you are having a flashback and are safe now

Remind yourself that the worst is over, and you survived it. What you're feeling now is just a reminder of that trauma and does not fit the present moment

Remind yourself of when and where you are, who you're currently with, and who you can contact if you need help (use the reorientation-focused grounding techniques)

Breathe deeply and slowly. Count your breathes and make sure that you're getting enough air

Use other mental, sensory, movement, and imagery techniques in order to distract yourself, calm yourself, and reorient yourself within the present

If possible or necessary, go somewhere where you can be alone or with a close friend, where you will feel safe, or where you feel protected or shielded

If there is anyone who you can trust or who will support you, reach out to them, let them know what happened, and let them know what you need, what would be best for you, or what they could do to help

Be gentle with yourself and take the time to really recover. If what helps you to recover is to color, take a bubble bath, hug a stuffed animal, or watch a children's movie and if it would not be disruptive to do such things at that point in time, embrace those options whole-heartedly

If possible, note or write down what triggered the flashback, what techniques you tried to use to disrupt the flashback, and what techniques helped

#panic anxiety #panic disorder #panic attack #anxiety #anxiety attack #grounding techniques #grounding #mental health #mentalwellness #mental disorder #disordered eating tw #eating disorder recovery #recovery #ana #anamia #bulimia #mia #thinspo #thinspiration #skinny #thin #depression #bipolar disorder #flashback #ptsd #complex ptsd #trauma

[225s]

for jude i think it would be cute if you could write something based off one of his recent matches where he went off on a teammate and just consoling him and understanding that he’s young and carries a lot of the weight so the pressure gets to be a lot

bad patch (jude bellingham)

For the first time since you started going to Jude's games, you find yourself counting down the minutes until the final whistle blows - even wishing the game would somehow be finished earlier, praying for a sudden snowstorm that'll make the field unplayable. You feel bad for thinking this way, but the scenes playing out in front of you are simply unbearable to watch, and you're clearly not the only one who's had enough of it. A handful of home fans around you makes their way up the stairs, walking away from the disaster on the field while the opponents celebrate their fifth goal of the evening, as if the first four weren't enough yet.

Your eyes wander from the cringy, badly choreographed celebrations to your tired boyfriend who's yelling at his teammates, frustration written all over his face and posture. It's become a familiar sight in the last couple of weeks, every loss only adding to the sour mood. You can't say you're looking forward to the rest of the evening, knowing Jude won't be a sunshine and will probably barely even say anything, and even after all this time of dating, you haven't fully mastered the art of comforting him yet.

When they finally leave the pitch, heads hanging low, you decide to wait for Jude in your car, feeling a bit awkward about seeing the other players' girlfriends as your boyfriend spent the last thirty minutes yelling at their lovers.

It doesn't take long till you're joined by Jude, the car door slamming shut behind him a good indication of his current mood. He doesn't even acknowledge you, eyes fluttering closed as he sighs, head falling back against the chair. You both just sit there for a while, trying to collect your thoughts and looking for words to say. Jude's the first one to succeed at this, tiredness evident in his voice as he speaks. "I'm sorry you had to see that disaster of a game, I know you've got better things to do than watching us lose every damn time."

"Hey now, you don't need to apologize." You reach out to cup his cheek, trying to get him to meet your eyes when you talk. "You know I'll always come to your games, even when you play in the worst sunday league team that gets relegated every single year, I'll still be on the sideline screaming your name. There's no better thing to do than watch you do something you love."

You feel a little sense of achievement when you see his frown subside just the tiniest bit, but there's still a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart hurt. "You do still love it, right? Football?"

"Yeah, of course." He nods decisively, his body melting into the passenger seat. "Just wonder whether the rest of our team does, too. Sure doesn't seem like it sometimes."

"You guys are just going through a bad patch, it'll get better, I swear." You just hope it'll be sooner rather than later - you can't stand seeing your boyfriend like this, so defeated and exhausted. You miss his smile after a win, lighting up the stadium and warming the heart of every supporter, you miss dancing in the living room to celebrate his goal, you miss him.

"I really wanted to score for you," he mumbles softly, his words barely audible, "Hate disappointing you. And the fans."

"Hold up." Your other hand moves to his cheeks as well, holding his face so that he stops staring through the window and looks at you instead. "You're not disappointing anyone, okay? Not me, not the fans, no one. Every time you step onto that pitch, you give it your all and that's everything we ask for and more. You're so young, you shouldn't feel like you've got to fix all of this shit. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Your thumbs are quick to wipe away the tears slipping from his eyes, lips following suit, placing tender kisses all over his damp cheeks until a small smile breaks through on his face.

"Thank you," he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours, "I really needed to hear that. You might have to repeat it a couple of times though."

"I'll make it a part of my morning routine," you smile and place another kiss on his lips. "Speaking of routines, I was thinking of a pamper night? You know, ice cream, face masks, bubble baths and stuff, to destress?"

"I can think of something else to destress." Jude wiggles his eyebrows at you, a cheeky grin on his face that soon turns into a pout when you softly slack his arm, murmuring a 'perv' under your breath. "I meant a massage! You're the pervert here, babe. Gee, seriously, get your mind out of the gutter."

"I swear to God, next time you lose I'll just make fun of you."

#hope you like it! #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurbs #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham one shot #footballer imagines

[choking-on-tae]

ATEEZ Reaction to: Your first time together

A/N: I wanna write more stuff for ATEEZ because I love them so much and I thought this would be cute. I miss Mingi so much I really hope he's doing well <3. Anyways as usual gifs aren't mine and credits to the rightful owners! xx

Seonghwa

This man would be so fucking soft. Just like with your first kiss he wants everything to be perfect and had everything planned out. A nice dinner at your favorite restaurant then you'd go back to his place where his bed is covered in rose petals and there's a bottle of wine with two glasses on his nightstand. Pretty perfect, right?

You chuckle at his cheesiness as you playfully shake your head. Seonghwa chuckles at your reaction as he feels a blush creeping up to his cheeks. He didn't do too much, did he? Seonghwa starts to second guess himself for a bit, awkwardly scratching the back of his head as he looks at you.

You notice his reaction and feel your eyes widen. "Hwa, don't worry this is perfect. I think this is really sweet. Thank you."

Seonghwa's doubts vanish as a bright smile spreads across his face. He makes his way towards you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him as he leans in to press a kiss against your forehead. You place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him down so you can press your lips against his.

Seonghwa instantly kisses you back as he pulls you tighter against him, a soft groan escaping his lips when he feels your hands trail down his chest. He moves to sit down on the bed, pulling you with him as straddle him. Your lips never leaving his as he moves to lay down fully. You smile against his lips as he turns you over so now you're the one who's laying on their back.

Seonghwa hums against your lips as he places his hands on either side of your head, pulling back slightly so he's able to look you in the eyes. Smirking down at you as his finger trails down your chest.

"You've no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

Hongjoong

I feel like Hongjoong would try to do much, like Seonghwa, but it doesn't end up working out that way. What I mean by that is that your first time together wasn't planned. It just happened when you invited Hongjoong to his apartment, even thought it was 2 am. You knew he was up and working in his study. When he texted you that he was going back to the dorms you invited him over to your place. Hongjoong was surprised that you were still up but came over anyways.

That's how you two ended up on the couch, the movie in front of you long forgotten as you talk about everything. Hongjoong tells you about everything that's been bothering him and you listen, which isn't something he's used to, but he appreciates it a lot. Once he finishes talking he cuddles up to you, laying down on your chest as he wraps his arms around your middle. You lean down to press a kiss against his forehead, which makes Hongjoong chuckle as he presses himself up enough to kiss you.

You respond immediately, grabbing his collar to pulling him closer to you. Hongjoong smirks against your lips as he hears you let out a soft moan. He pulls back and crooks his eyebrow, biting down on his bottom lip as he stares at you.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He asks, eyeing you up and down with that same look of hunger in his eyes.

"I am, but maybe we shouldn't do this on the couch, hm?"

Hongjoong hums in agreement as he helps you off of the couch, grabbing your arm and dragging you to you bedroom. You can't help but giggle as you two hastily make your way inside.

"A bed is much more comfortable than a couch anyways."

Yunho

Yunho would be somewhere in between Seonghwa and Hongjoong. As in that he did plan something, but didn't go as out as Seonghwa. He took you out for dinner first, to your favorite restaurant and now you two are cuddles up on the couch, watching a new episode of your favorite series when you feel Yunho's hand creeping up your thigh, making you giggle softly.

"I thought you wanted to watch the new episode."

Yunho smirks at you as he wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh and playfully push him away. "Oh my god stop that."

Now it's Yunho's turn to laugh as he leans closer to you, trapping your body underneath his own. You smile up at your boyfriend as he gently brushes his thump across your cheek, pulling your face slightly closer to his so he can kiss you.

Yunho deepens the kiss almost instantly as his hand moves to your neck, tilting it so he has better access. You tangle your hand in Yunho's hair as you pull him closer so he's not fully on top of you. Moving one hand to support his weight while the other moves down your body.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look at Yunho with big eyes. "Do you want this too baby?" He asks, his voice soft while his eyes are clouded with lust.

The fact that he still asks for your consent makes you smile. So you nod your head and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down again as he chuckles softly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were really-" "-I am! Thank you for asking, but I really do want this. Probably as much as you do."

Yunho's eyes widen upon hearing your words as a cheeky smile spreads across his lips. "Oh really? Prove it to me then."

Yeosang

I feel like with Yeosang there wouldn't be anything planned. Yes you two talked about it before but he didn't take you out to dinner of something like that when it happened. Yeosang was staying over at your place, playing your favorite game when he became distracted. He suddenly didn't feel like playing anymore when he saw how cute yet beautiful you looked. You had just taken a shower previously and aren't wearing any makeup. That's when Yeosang finds you most beautiful. Yes he thinks you look pretty with makeup on but he prefers to see you without it, or with minimal makeup so he's able to see your natural beauty.

You're so caught in your game you startle a little when you feel Yeosang tug a strand of hair behind your ear. You pause the game before turning to him, raising your eyebrow at him as you see him smiling softly at you.

"What's it?"

"Nothing. I just think you look beautiful like this."

Your cheeks flush as you nervously bite down on your bottom lip. Yeosang chuckles at the sight as he moves closer so his legs are touching yours. This time he reaches out to gentle cup your jaw, bringing your face closer to his for a kiss. You respond immediately as you throw away the controller and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Yeosang smirk against your lips as he pushes you down gently so you're laying on your back, climbing in top of you as he reconnects your lips. This time the kiss more desperate than before as you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on his locks as he groans softly.

"You really don't want to know what I'm thinking right now." He groans, pulling back slightly so he's able to look at you.

A teasing smirk spreads across your face as you tilt your head slightly, staring up at him with a playful glimmer in your eye.

"Really? Well, maybe I do want to know. Why don't you show me?"

San

I feel like it could go both ways with San. I see him as someone who's quite romantic so I think he'd might plan some things such as your favorite takeout, or something like that. Or it'd be completely spontaneous. Let's go with the first one. San didn't particularly plan on having your first time happen that night but after you had finished eating and were settled on the couch it popped up in his head again. You had talked about it in advance, so it wasn't like he wasn't sure if you were ready yet. With that out of the way San wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, making you chuckle.

"What are you doing?"

"I just want to cuddle."

You look up at your boyfriend and notice a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Shaking your head playfully as you gently brush your thump across his cheek. "I don't think that's all you want to do. Am I right?"

San feels his cheeks heat up as he nods his head, his shy demeanor immediately making place for a playful one. San pushes you down gently until you're laying on your back and climbs on top of you, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as neither of you can hold back your laughter.

You softly hit his chest as San smiles brightly at you, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours before pressing a soft kiss against your cheek.

"Do you want to..?"

You nod your head as you grab the back of his neck and pull him down so you can kiss him properly. San eagerly responds as he rests his weight on top of you, practically pressing you against the couch as he grinds his hips into yours. You gasp into his mouth at the friction and pull his hair, making him moan in return.

Mingi

You two are just laying in bed, talking about random things when he brings it up. "I was just wondering.." He starts off, suddenly feeling quite nervous as he looks at you.

You softly nod your head, encouraging him to keep going, which he eventually does. "We've been together for a while now and I thought that maybe we could.. uhm.. you know.. if you're ready fo-"

You chuckle softly as you rest your head on your hand, staring at your boyfriend lovingly as his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. Mingi nervously bites down on his bottom lip as he waits for your response. Sensing his nerves you move a little closer to him and take his face in between your hands, bringing it closer to yours to press a kiss against his lips.

When you pull back Mingi is smiling brightly. The nerves from before disappeared as he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach.

"Of course I want to. Are you okay with this?"

You've never seen Mingi nods so fast in his life. Realizing that he must appear a little too eager he chuckles softly as he hides his face behind his hands. You laugh at his reaction as you take his hands in yours, pulling his back from his face so you're able to look at him again.

"Don't hide from me baby. I want to see you when we make love."

Wooyoung

You and Wooyoung have made out countless of times before, but you never went further than that. That's how you find yourself on your couch, your body beneath Wooyoung's as he's trapped you between his body and the couch. He might have gotten a little too jealous catching you talking with one of your friends. Not that you mind in the slightest when this is how he responds. He groans against your lips when he feels you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against you.

Wooyoung pulls back, panting heavily as he stares down at you. Lust evident in his eyes as he tries to compose himself.

"Y/N.. I.. I don't think I'll be able to hold back if we continue this."

Instead of nodding and pushing him off of you, like he expected, he sees you smiling up at him and grabbing the collar of his shirt. Pulling him down so his lips are barely brushing against yours. His eyes find yours as he gulps softly, trying to look for any sight of discomfort. Only to see your smile turn into a smirk as you crook your eyebrow at him.

"Well, what if I don't want you to hold back?"

Wooyoung's eyes widen slightly before a bright smile spreads across his face. He crashes his lips against yours as his hands move down your body. You eagerly kiss him back as you run your nails down his back, making Wooyoung groan as he deepens the kiss. One hand finding your jaw as he tilts your head so he has better access.

Jongho

I think that with Jongho is would be a spur of the moment kind of thing. He hadn't planned it out but neither of you were complaining. The movie you had picked turns out to be quite boring, so instead of continuing to watch it you come up with a better idea. You swing your leg across Jongho as you straddle him, making his eyes widen as he reaches for the remote. Pausing the movie to give you his full attention.

"What's it baby? I thought you wanted to watch the movie?" He asks, his hands immediately finding their way to your hips as he looks into your eyes.

"Well, the movie is boring. I thought we could do something more fun."

Jongho instantly catches on as he chuckles softly, raising his eyebrow as he tightens his grip on your hips. "Ah really? Well what is it you're thinking about then?"

You smirk at your boyfriend as you run your hands down his chest, making Jongho gulp as he tries to keep his eyes on yours.

"Well, remember what we talked about the other day? I'm ready. If you are too."

Jongho hums in response as he leans in until his lips are brushing against yours. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

That's all Jongho needs to hear as he crashes his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him standing up, carrying you to what you assume is your bedroom as your back meets the matrass. Jongho climbs down on top of you as he reconnects your lips immediately. You run your fingers through his hair as his hands run all over your body, making you moan softly against his lips.

Jongho smirks against your lips as he pulls back enough to be able to look at you. "I've really wanted to do this for a while now. I can't wait to make you mine."

#atz #ateez #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez smut #fluff #smut #reactions #ateez au #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jung yunho #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut

[dilfwaynes]

durante la notte

summary: natasha always deals the cards first, but always ends up being the first to fold them as well.

✎ word count ; 1.5k

⚢ pairings ; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

genre ; smut

✗ warnings ; mean power bottom!reader, undertones of elitism, strap on use, degradation, pwp.

a/n ; natasha x Italian!reader cos i was finishing italian hw while writing this and thinking in Italian LOL not edited !!

translation: fangool / go do it in an ass, / marone / damn it / il mio piccolo tesoro / my little treasure.

you lick your lips slowly, lifting the petite glass and bringing it to your lips, tasting the rich krug flat on your tongue. fingers wrapped around tightly as you watch natasha flaunt around the bar end of the restaurant, collude deep with a full view of her little display with your table only a few feet away. rolling your eyes you pick up the cigarette pack aside from you, fumbling down your drink and lighting it up, blowing out the thick french scent smoke.

“excuse me, could you please put out your cigarette,” your eyes flash towards the man some tables away, eyebrow cocked in annoyance and distrain. you stare blankly, tapping away the burnt ashes off the tip and turning your attention back to natasha.” ma’am.”

“marone! leave the fucking smoking section then!” you snap towards their direction, eyes harden and un amusement fading to anger fast, glaring. “proletariat, fangool!” shifting back to the russian, catching her eyes and bridging the intensity of her green, inhaling once more. sliding the champagne again to your lips, raising an eyebrow over the rim with jealousy burning in with the alcohol. are you finished with your game?

natasha smirked over her slightly hauled shoulder, your expression lamely and stoic but faded underneath is the whole reason she’s continuing on her show. still, she peers at you from the corner of her while fingers shims around the younger girl’s arm, your rings grasping tightly against the glass, the cartier sleek love band, and the golden diamond aside it as well a panthère slimed around your wrist. truthfully you looked good enough to eat with the white silk pressed on your tanned skin, giving you more of a glow with the golden  accessories.

brushing back the stray hair behind the girl’s ear she watched as your mien fallen and a rushed snap of your fingers has the waiter ushering you the bill, eyes set on natasha as you mindless throw money for the check and tip. 

“natasha,” waving a hand behind your back to beckon her to tail from a distance, and like always she obeyed. following you into the car, muttering something in Italian before the chauffeur starts the car. you turn your attention back on her calmly, nodding before reaching a hand and yanking her head to rear in your pleasing.” what a show you’ve put on tonight beloved, but i didn’t care much for your co-star.” you laugh softly, pulling her upper to meet her eyes. your nails running along the back of her neck with your lips attaching to the base of her throat.

“but i don’t think it’ll do well,” you sigh, the mock of sympathetic patent with a now pout in place. natasha’s lips quirk upwards, deciding to play along.” that’s mean to say baby.” her eyes trained on your lips, the red curling into a pleasing smile, the hold within her hair loosens, and a soothing hand pushing her streaks back.  

“don’t worry, you can be the main star of my show,” you say quietly, intertwining your hand with hers and bringing it down to your thigh under your dress, your gaze flickering back towards her.” and mine will be a lot better and successful.” your fist tightening withholding her hair once more and roughly pushing her towards you, slamming your lips against hers with a smothering kiss.

“but i don’t know if you quite deserve it, touching that filthy puttana,” you whisper nearing the shell of her ear, voice edged with a low seething.”i shouldn’t even let you touch me. i bet if i let you, you’ve spread that whore out and fucked her, hm? or would you have done that if i wasn’t there?” your words meant to come out as teasing but natasha heard the undertones, and she knew you knew, that she knew.

“no,” natasha lets out shakily, holding back a groan of the feeling of your teeth nipping at her exposed neck.”don’t want her, just you.” your head falls against her shoulder, smoothing a kiss on the blade.

“just me?” your relaxed features now sneering, your grip a little tighter at the movement of the car stopping. nodding,” just you.”

giving her another kiss before opening the door, an unspoken command for her to follow you into the penthouse. kicking off the satin heels, peering over to the entrance where natasha stands.”c’mere il mio piccolo tesoro,” you coo, tapping a spot for her to join, smiling to ace the act. natasha doesn’t need to see the calm before the storm to understand how this is gonna play out. draping your legs over her lap, catching her face between your fingers,”such a pretty girl,” you murmur, shaking your head.”too bad she’s such a little fucking slut.” you finish, though the tone still mockingly sweet, your smile replaced with a lazy grin now.

without any response from natasha you shift towards her lap, your legs between her waist and gripping her thighs with a bruising kiss, wrapping her legs further around her waist. alining your sex to brush right against her bare thigh, sighing out at the friction, the thin panties the only thing keeping your pussy from her warm skin.”stay put.” you hiss, sealing it with a pinch to her arm, laughing at her little groan of pain.  striding towards the chest tucked into the corner, picking up the silicone and a small bottle of lube. 

“make yourself useful for once and lube that bitch up,” you laugh at your own words and take no mind to natasha, she rolls her eyes stripping herself of her top, watching your little tease show of taking off the silk, and as expected a matching white set underneath. rolling her hips up through the harness, squeezing some of the lube into her palms and running it along the fake length. lifting her gaze and meeting your steps to her, your bra unclasped and somewhere thrown but your panties remain. she cocks her eyebrow downwards, silently asking why they’re still on. you don’t reply, simply pooling them down, and reaching for natasha’s face by her jaw and shoving the expensive lace into her mouth, very well enjoying her wide eyes of curiosity and then surprise.”don’t give me those eyes, i don’t wanna hear you after that shit you pulled with that puttana.”

slowly sinking yourself on the strap, slapping a looming hand of the red head underneath you, taking the cock with a burning stretch leaving you aching, moaning when you feel the tip hilts, natasha drooling at seeing the fake cock poke out some from your stomach. waiting a few moments before lightly grinding on the strap.”see, if you weren’t some stupid bitch i would’ve let you fucked me,” you tell her, grabbing her shoulders for support, rising your hips up and slamming them down again. natasha grits her teeth, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you literally anything.”please.” she muffled out.

you chuckle at her barely audible beg, her eyes glossy and her voice so whiny, you loved her like this. you decide to throw her a bone and grab one of her hands to give some attention to your tits. speeding up your pace with the added pressure of natasha tugging your nipples between her fingers.”fuck, fuck, fuck play with my clit baby.” you gasp out, your eyelids fluttering with the coil in your stomach ready to snap. podding her thumb against your clit, watching your face falls into pleasure and soon you’re crying out and gushing all over her lap. alcohol always made you extra sensitive.

ripping the makeshift gag of your panties from her mouth, she stares at you for a few seconds.”i’m fucking you at least once tonight.”

“if you can even do that right beloved.”

your words get stuck in your throat as your back drops to the couch, natasha between your legs and pushing the tip inside, arousal pulling at the slick coating the strap. holding your hips still she snaps hers, filling you up. her mouth dry seeing tears peak the corner of your eyes, your legs shake around her already and she hasn’t even moved yet. supporting her body weight with her hand against the side of your head, grabbing the arm of the couch and thrusting up, her grunt going straight to your core. she smirks at the strings of high pitched moans she’s getting out of you, your nails dragging across her back and digging in, your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably with the sound of natasha fucking you, the couch dampening under the pressure of natasha’s hips against yours.”don’t stop, i’m gonna cum you better fucking make me cum.” leaning down and smashing her lips down to yours, reaching a hand to where you both connect and rubbing circles on your clit.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, your grip on natasha unbreakable and your body shaking under her from your second orgasm of the night. giving out a few more trusts to ride out your climbmax, kissing the side of your temple and staying inside you. panting slightly, burying her face inbetween your neck and the Italian leather.

“does this make me forgiven?”

“we’ll see.”

#natasha x reader #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff headcanon #mcu smut